Death Deceivers [English]

10. Death is unique

The painting was still in the same place where Carmichael had left it.

It seemed as though destiny had chosen to hide it, leaving it there until the right person came to retrieve it. Frederick Carmichael was that person. This was his purpose. Despite how traumatic it was for him to be in the same cemetery where he left a trail of blood, seeing the statue of the grim reaper next to where he died and, fortunately, his body had been found, and seeing the abandoned tomb where he buried the Altamirano.

His head was spinning and his hands were trembling. This was terrifying to him. He feared that this was some sort of test and that Death wanted to force him to transcend, thanking him for his services but insisting that it was time to rest in peace. He was also afraid that when they finished this, the person who left the note would confess everything to Lady Death, his deception, his great sin. Until now, he had not realized how scared he was.

However, the idea of remedying an error that was a side effect of his crimes was more satisfying to him than his terrifying fears. At least, if he was going to hell or suffering an eternal punishment, he could say that his last action in a life of evil was a good one.

With a sigh, he finished digging the tomb. He removed his gloves, now filled with dirt, and with his bare hands, he took the canvas, still wrapped in that brown paper, but the latter was dirty and worn. He had no idea what the state of the painting would be after so much time underground.

"Here it is," he showed it to Nina and Andrew. Nina was stunned to see it, paralyzed and with tears in her eyes. There was the cause of everything, hidden and protected while others suffered.

"If you're going to blame anyone, don't blame the painting," Carmichael said. "Blame me."

Nina snapped out of her daze and hurriedly shook her head.

"No... I don't want to blame anyone. It's just that...," she approached cautiously and with the tips of her fingers, she brushed the wrapped canvas. "I never thought it could be this close."

"It's incredible," Andrew agreed, examining the canvas. "Despite the years, it's still here. Will the painting be okay?"

"That's the least of our worries," Carmichael asserted.

"We could check," Nina suggested, reaching out to snatch the Altamirano, but Carmichael didn't allow it.

He stepped back and hugged the canvas to his chest, confusing his comrades.

"Carmichael?" Andrew asked.

He shook his head urgently.

"We can't open it," he said. "The painting inside is...it's dangerous. It's the product of insane obsessions. Whatever is inside should not be seen by anyone. Its image was the trigger for all of this conflict."

"We're already dead, it won't affect us," Andrew pointed out.

"We don't know that," Nina sighed. "I hate to admit it, but I think Carmichael has a point. If it really has the ability to obsess others, I don't think it's wise for us to take the risk. It could make us go crazy and, in our state, I don't think it's a good idea."