Innocence Lies in Silver

I woke up. My breaths—shallow, uneven. Hands, sticky. Warm, wet. Iron. The smell—iron. Familiar. Too familiar. Blinking, I tried to focus. The studio. My studio. But—no. I had clocked out at noon. Told my manager. So why—? Why was I here?

The iron scent thickened, clinging to the air, souring it. Death. The stench of death. Panic. My eyes darted around—searching. New sculpture—strange, but mine. Mine? Couldn't remember. Didn't matter. Focus. My eyes—down. Hands—crimson. Blood.

"Not again," I whispered. My voice trembled. My hands shook as I stumbled to the nearby sink. Cold water, clear, then red. I scrubbed harder. The crimson refused to disappear, clinging to my skin like a curse. But it was alright. Yes. It would be alright. They hadn't caught me before. They wouldn't catch me now. Five times. Five failures. Was I a genius? A genius, yes. Not my fault. Not my fault. I was asleep.

Drying my hands, I glanced at the sculpture—my latest masterpiece. She lay there, still and perfect. Her skin, silvered. Gold, glinting, catching the dim light. Her face—peaceful. I captured her peace. For Lumiere. The expo. Next week. She'd bring a pretty penny.

I circled her, inspecting. Every inch, every crack, every curve. Perfection. But—no. A flaw. Crimson—on the tip of her fingernail. My heart—thudding. Small, but it had to go. Had to. My secret—mine alone.

It was the fifth time. The fifth. And if you've been listening, really listening, you know what I mean. Five people. Five masterpieces. Guilt? No. There was no guilt. How could there be? I wasn't there. Not really. I was asleep. Just asleep.

A knock. A month ago, on September 21st, 2022, there was a knock at my apartment door. I remember it clearly—too clearly. My heart raced, pulsing with a twisted kind of excitement. I knew who it was—Elise, my love, my only weakness. She'd kept her promise—she came alone. But the gun—ah, the gun—was pointed at me. I didn't mind. Couldn't mind. The amusement curled on my lips before I could stop it.

The sculptures had become a sensation. Everyone marvelled at how lifelike they were, how they seemed to capture the essence of humanity in a way that was both beautiful and grotesque. Elise, though, was no ordinary admirer. She was smart—head detective of Neopolis smart. And she knew too much. Smart. Too smart. But—I loved her. But—my art. My art mattered more.

When I saw her that day, despite the gun pointed at me, I couldn't help but smile. She had kept her promise; she was alone. I let her into my dusky, dim apartment. My heart thudded with excitement. The tall lamp flickered as she stepped inside, casting shadows that danced across the room- mine a monster- hers an angel. Her hazel eyes searched mine, piercing, questioning. "I got the letter, Tanner—so tell me, did you do it?"

I stepped closer. Slowly. She backed away. But there was nowhere to go. Trapped. The gun in her holster—empty. I knew. She trusted me. Always trusted me. She shouldn't have. Not now. Not anymore.

I smiled. Answered nothing. Just—smiled. She knew. We both knew. But saying it—would hurt her. I didn't want to hurt her. Not yet.She demanded an answer, her voice rising, desperation creeping in. But I remained silent. The lamp flickered again. A sign? A warning?

A step forward. Her body tensed, instinctively backing away. I could see it in her eyes. Fear. Uncertainty. No escape. Step by step, I closed the distance, her back against the wall. Trapped. My body leaned in close, so close I could feel the heat of her breath. Her hazel eyes, searching, pleading, but it was too late. Too late. The man she loved was gone. Gone.

Her hands shook, the gun heavy in her grasp. Empty. She thought I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know. It was empty. I knew she trusted me. Always. My, was she mistaken.

She was beautiful. So beautiful. I wanted to keep her like this. Forever.

The blade was in my hand. I didn't remember taking it out. But there it was. Her throat... so delicate. I didn't think so. I just... acted. The blade went in. Her gasp... soft, almost like a sigh. Her eyes... hazel, losing light. But that was alright. Now she was mine. Truly mine .I could sculpt her, mould her into the ethereal beauty she was meant to be. Forever.

And my secret? Safe. Secure. Mine.

Today, as I admire the silver-gold embellished sculpture before me, I can't help but whisper to myself, "Elise, my love, my muse, my madness, my obsession and always my favourite " I glance at her form, hanging elegantly on the wall. The lamp flickers one last time. Again?

Footsteps. Outside the door. Heavy. Determined. The bastards think they've found me. They think they know.But they don't. Not really. As the door bursts open, guns raised at me. I know I am innocent. I was asleep. Just asleep.

I smiled.

For, my only crime was Elise.