The Bleeding Canvas Mystery: Why My Father Is Threatening Legal Action Over a $28,500 Portrait
👉 Previous Decision: You chose Option A – to ignite the canvas in the workshop fireplace immediately.
A primal fear seized Julian. The painting, with its bleeding fingers and shifting posture, felt like an active threat. He gripped the heavy wooden frame and dragged it towards the brick hearth of his workshop fireplace.
He picked up a utility lighter. Its plastic felt cold in his hand.
A spark flew, then a small flame ignited, dancing in the dim light. Julian pressed the fire to the lower edge of the canvas.
The old varnish, brittle and volatile from thirty years, reacted instantly. A whoosh of intense blue flame roared up, swallowing the portrait within seconds. The heat pulsed outwards, making Julian take a hurried step back.
Toxic chemical fumes billowed, thick and acrid, stinging his eyes and catching in his throat. Julian coughed, waving a hand in front of his face, unable to look away from the inferno.
Through the shimmering heat, just before the canvas fully shriveled into ash, he caught a brief, agonizing glimpse. A small, dark shape within the wooden stretcher bars. It looked like a hidden brass plate, melting under the intense heat.
A loud, insistent rattling shook the front door. Julian’s head snapped up.
He heard muffled voices through the heavy wood. A cold dread settled in his stomach. The process servers, with their court papers and legal threats, had arrived. But the evidence, whatever it was, had already been reduced to nothing but smoke and ash.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 3 to continue the story
More Stories
+ There are no comments
Add yours