My Masterpiece•Edluca

04 ☆ Don't move, I'm coming!

       ❁ཻུ۪۪ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈
        ┊Let me hold you.
        ┊If not now,          
        ┊then forever.                                    
         ✧ ˚ 　· 　 　 . •
        ┊ ┊
         ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

Running across the map, sweat spewing of off his brow. Gripping his paintbrush, he had managed to memorise the hunters face. I mean, it wasnt that hard. He's nothing but a monster for hurting people. Maybe not innocent people. Edgar knew he wasn't one of the innocent people.

     He came here for one reason. To find his next masterpiece. But for that he needed more.. red. Red was a brilliant, bright colour. Red could be anything- a flickering fire, to a velvet-smoothe carpet. Red was a soft, gentle colour, but yet had the power to become hatred, pain... Agony.

     Unlike his other colours, his red never ran out. Even when it did, it would always be back in a few hours.

     Dragging the thin brush against the canvas, he began to mix the colours together to create the dark, looming beast. He only had black paint, which was supplied in the paintbrush. He just needed to press a button and the black paint would seek through the bristles. He only had enough paint for two canvases, although. Especially with what he created.

     A black shadow with white eyes staring back at the viewer was in the centre. A dark background, glistening and snarling as the monster contrasted out.

     It didn't take long until he was done creating the beast. Once that was done he was close enough to the chair to see Andrew chaired, the near-white haired male's head resting down against his chest, his black gloves gripping his shovel.

His frame was shaking and shivering, his visible crimson eye shut tightly. He was preparing to die, but he wasn't letting that happen.

"Andrew! Head in the game!" Edgar exclaimed out, shooting forward.

Hastily, he began to mess with the ropes to untie him from the chair. Andrew's eyes slid open in surprise, and almost instantly he began to shake his head.

"No- no no, get out of here! He's here, in the other world!" The grave keeper exclaimed loudly.

Edgar didn't stop. Hauling him from the chair, he shoved Andrew away just before the hunter appeared directly behind him. Once more the painter entirely took the blow, flinching as another cut was created on his skin.

Andrew launched away, stumbling in his step. A crimson trail stained the dark blades of grass as he bolted.

Edgar, while Joseph readied to strike again placed the canvas down, launching himself away.

Before he could do anything, a golden glow danced across Joseph's skin, and the painting had crumbled before him. It wasn't long enough,and Joseph's blade had struck him again. His breath cut out, and he stumbled forward. He was glad he had that one goddamn skill to help him launch away instead of being downed instantly after saving.

Going the opposite way of Andrew, Joseph had followed after the painter.

Edgar's breathing wavered from long, deep breaths to short, desperate gasps of air. His hand constantly pressing his crimson clothing against his wound, the brush rattling in his hand. The blood was barely visable from his red, dirty, ragged overcoat, a simple darker shade weaving and spreading through the fabric. The blood stained his pale, shaking hands, his nails digging into his body. His grip on his singular painted canvas tightened, his shoes thudding against the leaf-cloaked ground. He launched away, his teeth gritting together as he furrowed his chilled blue eyes. Sweat danced on his forehead, sweeping down the side of his face. He didn't have much time- he had to escape now.