A Coincidental Consequence

A young woman sits on the worn couch in her small living room from the house she recently rented out. The woman had dirty blonde hair with corresponding light brown eyes. She was wearing a dark green tee shirt with denim jeans and her hair was pulled up into a low ponytail. She stared blankly at a painting on the wall which remained inside the house when she went searching for a temporary home.

The picture was a profile of a gorgeous woman with dark, black curls who had evil, beady red eyes. She was smirking in a cruel way, as if she just achieved a malicious act. The woman noticed a similarity with the figure in the painting to a mythical creature of fiction- Maleficent. The picture showed a beauty resembling goodness, but the hidden evil within the wicked woman represented her instinctive cruelty. 

The woman stood up from the couch and walked toward the painting. She had a closer look and observed the golden frame of the picture which had magnificent engravings with many intricate details. But, a hint of silver caught her eye on the right side of the frame, two tiny hinges bolted to the wall. 

She squinted her eyes at the sight and traced her finger onto a tiny hinge. Then, she moved her hand over to the other side of the picture, wrapped her fingers around the edge, and started to pull.     

She was interrupted by the beep of the oven, notioning the food inside was finished cooking. She removed her hand from the picture frame and left for the kitchen, giving one last look at the painted chilling witch.

Once she removed the dish inside the oven, she served herself a lonesome dinner. She then returned to the couch, in front of the eerie picture, and ate her dinner silently. And the silence was key at this moment, because the woman tilted her head when she heard an interesting noise coming from before her. 

The noise was some sort of ticking, but instead of a clock, it sounded more like a bomb. With each tick, though, there was a noise of a creaking door, as if the tick was drawn out slowly with suspense.

She kept her wide eyes peeled on the painting while she hurriedly ate her dinner. Once she was done, she cleaned up the dishes and went into her bedroom. There, she did the normal nighttime routine- sweatpants and tee, brush teeth, and a single braid. She went to bed quickly, with a full mind drowning in confusion. 

That night, she had a dream. This was far from normal, because she never had dreams. But in this illusion, she was back in front of the painting, yet this time with a moving woman inside. She was humming an unnerving song as she swayed back and forth. 

When the blonde woman took one step forward, the lady in the painting snapped her head up and stared right at her, her red ones met the other’s blue. The villainous figure notioned for the other to come to her, using her index finger with a long, black nail extending from it.   

The blonde woman wanted to run, yet she couldn’t stop herself from walking forward toward the painting surrounded by a gold frame. She wrapped her hand around the left edge of the frame, like she did before, and pulled. When the hinges snapped and the frame started to open, she instantly woke up from the dream. 

It was almost like the picture wanted her to know what was inside, yet something or someone didn’t. She looked at her phone to realize it was five in the morning, and although it was much earlier than her normal rise, she got up anyway. She went to make herself a coffee, maybe grab a book and enjoy herself on the couch for an hour. But, she knew there would be a constant distraction in the living room.  

When she couldn’t take it anymore, the suspenseful ticking and the beady red glare, she went up to the frame and pulled hesitantly. The picture opened to a black shelf with a singular object sitting by itself. It was a device, of some sorts. 

Not an average technological device, like an iphone or laptop. It had one large, red button at the top and several smaller ones below. She grabbed it off the shelf and then closed the painting, locking it with a click from the hinges. 

She sat down on the couch, twiddling the device with her fingers. It was very heavy for its size, symbolizing some kind of hidden talent. The whole situation was quite hidden and confusing for the blonde woman, so instead of dealing with the machine herself, she decided to call the authorities. 

Once the police arrived at her house, she opened the front door happily. They urgently came inside the home, heading right towards the painting with the wicked woman. After investigating every inch of the picture and the shelf inside, they came to the blonde woman and took the device, searching each and every button with wide eyes. 

They continued until they heard the irregular ticking which piped up loudly and started speeding up. The officials and the woman started panicking, as anyone would to the suspenseful noise. But, the woman accidentally smacked the device out of an officer’s hand, a dangerous coincidence holding an unknown consequence. 

The impact of the device pushed the main red button down, which instantly ceased the ticking. The officers and the woman calmed down, and more authority vehicles pulled up in front of the house, including the bomb squad. 

A few hours later, the woman sits in the back of an ambulance truck with a blanket wrapped around her with comfort. An officer was asking her questions related to the owners of the house and any information she had of the painting and the device.

In a turn of events, the woman’s mistake of hitting the device out of the officer’s hand saved their lives. Someone had planted a bomb in the house, with a device to stop it. Someone with a savage mind and a tricky ego. 

Someone like the witch in the painting.