The Lost Emperor

"Paint me." He hears it, and it's his voice, he knows it's his voice, Krist's voice.

Taken by something he can't name, he stares at the empty bottle and picks it up.

"Enough!" he says.

"Please paint me phi." He hears him say and that's enough. He throws the bottle on the floor and screams at the top of his lungs, he screams because it's all he can do.

Tears run down his cheeks, hot, burning. His breathing is uneven.

"Paint me." He closes his eyes feeling exhausted, feeling helpless and empty, compelled by his own delusions.

"All right," he says, his voice strangled. He dries his own tears.

"All right."

He walks towards his easel. He searches for a blank canvas and positions it.

"Paint me."