Crimson red

“Darlene” – he would whisper that name over and over. The very way he was pronouncing her name, the tenderness and delicacy he enclosed in that word would convince even a complete stranger that he was in love. It wasn’t the routine, ordinary love that we see around so often, but rather the burning, enrapturing and consuming feeling that left nothing intact on its way.

She was passing by his window every morning – black-haired, bright and beautiful. Any great portraitist would desire to immortalize her on canvas – for that embodiment of pure beauty to be kept forever. Every morning she wore a different dress and walked down the street gracefully, keeping her head up and not looking around – how can we blame the passers-by for their inability to take their eyes off her?

Our young man was watching Darlene every morning. How long could he see her? Two, maybe three minutes which was enough for him to forget whatever he was doing before and create her perfect image. It’s hard to know for how long he was depicting her, but the only thing we know for sure is that the walls of the room were all covered by paintings featuring nothing but her.

This day was destined to be the same, but something went sideways when he realized that this time, he can’t resist the temptation to follow her. He didn’t know if the unplanned walk turned out to be longer than expected or it was just his perception of time twisted by feelings, but the artist was getting closer and closer to regret. Buy soon she approached to the two-storey house and so did he. consumed looking inside he couldn’t hear the muffled sound of steps as someone approached him from behind. A split second of sharp pain was the only thing he could feel before he fell down unconscious.

“Where am I?” It took him a gargantuan effort to open up his eyes. “Oh, my head...”

“I know everything.” She was standing in front of him. “You’ve been following me the whole day.”

He tried to get up but it turned out he was tightly tied to the chair. This endeavour was quickly going off rails.

“How…, how did you notice me?” Words hardly came out of his mouth.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you literally made three laps around my block”, Darlene laughed. “I’ll probably regret my curiosity but I really want to know the person who followed me for two hours straight.”

He got so lost admiring her that Darlene was prompted to repeat herself. And Noah told her that instead of explaining he could show her.

“Nobody in a sane mind would ever do something like that.” But the unbearable curiosity took its toll on her. “Lucky you, I’m not an ordinary girl. I’ll regret this but I just want to see what you have to show. Wait here for a moment” And after some time she came with a guy that would accompany her.

They took a taxi to his place. Nothing disturbed the complete silence in the car. What could you talk about in such a situation? Eventually they approached his home.

“I can’t let him in,” he said. “I can show it only to you.”

For a moment her partner wanted to object but she didn’t let him.

“It’s ok, I’ll be back soon.”

They took the stairs, and when the artist opened up the door she gasped,

“Oh my God…”

She slowly walked in and nothing could stop her from admiring the paintings.

“Is it all me? All of this? All that time?”

She just couldn’t believe in what she saw.

“But when, how, why?

And he told her. Told her about how her passage by the window was keeping him alive, how he would forget about everything and devote himself completely into depicting every minor detail of her dress, how that became his daily routine that substituted everything that was there before.

She could barely speak. “I’m speechless, there is just nothing I can say…”

But then, as if immediately coming back to her senses, she said “You devoted yourself to this and I don’t even know your name.”

“Noah, my name is Noah. I’m an amateurish artist...”

“What do you mean?! This is beyond imaginable! You have to show this to the whole world!”

“Thank you, Darlene, but I don’t deserve all of that. I just happened to come across my very first model and I’m happy it was you.”

“Nonsense, your talent is obvious and I will help you to show it to the world.”

“But how?” Noah couldn’t even think about such an opportunity.

“We…” She paused for a while. “We should organize an exhibition! Why not, we have time and you can make more paintings.”

“But would you…” He couldn’t dare to finish the question.

“I promise to walk by your window every day!” her peaking enthusiasm was contagious.

“Thank you, Darlene, thank you for appearing in my life.” The emotional overload left him in complete stupor.

The next day, at the arranged time Darlene walked along the street by Noah’s house. She was wearing a crimson red dress that fell down to her knees and curved there revealing the elegant ankles of the lady. Her body resembled the shape of the hourglass, her flying step and graceful movements emphasized the best in her image. She pulled up her hair opening the thin curvatures of her neck that completed the appearance that simply radiated with pristine beauty.

Noah was standing by the window and when saw her for a moment, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, completely immersed into absorbing each and every ray of light that she reflected. Soon, however, he got himself together and tried to picture her image. His hand always did everything on its own, but today something was wrong, something was missing and he was losing himself trying to finish the painting. Finally, though, he found a solution.

Darlene came in, out of her breath, eager to see the final result.

“Sorry, I am a little bit late, but I can’t wait to see the picture. How is…” She stood in his room, completely shocked by the terrifying image that opened up to her. Words were stuck in her throat leaving her as a speechless witness to the horrendous ritual that Noah was committing. The picture was almost finalized and it was perfect. Noah managed to get an unique shade of red that looked thousand times prettier than the colour of her dress, however, the way he found that colour was the source of her shock. Noah stood in a pool of his own blood that was slowly flowing from his right hand. It seemed that he didn’t notice that at all, he was busy adding new layers of this nightmarish colour.

Darlene screamed and ran to Noah. She wanted to help to stop the bleeding but he didn’t let her to do that.

He seemed to be in some kind of trance. “Please don’t stop me now, Darlene, I can’t leave this painting unfinished. Even if you stop the bleeding I’ll open the wound again to finish my masterpiece.”

“This is not funny, Noah, what are you doing?” she asked in fear.

“I couldn’t paint your image as I did before, so I found a way around. This is my masterpiece, my best creation. Look, how irresistible it is.”

For a while there was only silence distorted only by drops of Noah’s blood falling on the floor.

“I understand that you can’t accept it but this is art, art has no limits to it. If you want you can leave.” Darlene couldn’t believe this is the same person she talked with yesterday.

“However…” he paused thinking about something. “If you could add a little bit of your blood to this painting – I can’t even imagine how much better it will get. Come on, just a little wound, it won’t hurt you much” he said, calmly approaching her.

Darlene finally managed to throw away the fear paralysis. “Stay away, you crazy monster! You completely lost yourself, don’t you dare to touch me!!”

These words echoed in Noah’s mind, his eyes lost the fanatical shine and now he was completely lost. “I…, I’m so sorry Darlene. I know you’ll hate me forever. I’m begging your forgiveness…” His voice started shaking after he realized what he was about to do.

“You’re crazy, Noah. My forgiveness won’t change that at all. I’m going to leave, please stay away from me.” Her look gave up the disgust she felt to him. Everything was irreversibly broken now, forever.

She ran out of Noah’s house trying to get as far as possible to forget the horror she just witnessed. When she was leaving the room she accidentally injured her shoulder by one of the nails that he used to hang the paintings. That didn’t stop her – later she wouldn’t even remember about this incident. Noah, however, came up to the nail and absorbed all her blood with his brush. He took his time to breathe in the aroma of her blood and, back in his madness turned to the unfinished painting. The slow, patient movements of his brush were transforming the dress, as it blushed and flourished even more becoming the embodiment of the perfection in the deranged eyes of the poor artist.

“How beautiful you are, Darlene!” He sat on his chair, pale and powerless, to admire his creation. With the last sparkles of consciousness Noah realized he was falling into madness. The painting became his new love, making him forget the real Darlene that couldn’t understand his sacrifice. He created his own one, the version that loved him back and was always there for him.

Next day he took off all the old pictures and burned them in the fireplace. There was only one that was worthy of his attention now, only one that he now devoted himself to.

It was getting dark already, the sun sending its last rays almost from behind the horizon. However, the man that was hurrying down the street wasn’t enjoying the beautiful sunset. Quite the opposite, he walked fast, frowning and distorting the quiet harmony that reigned on the neighbourhood. He looked up for a moment, distracting from his thoughts to check which street he was on and then it happened.

He was staring on exactly what he was looking for, which happened to be the Noah’s painting that was visible through the window. Not losing his time, he almost ran to the house and knocked the door, politely but quite insistently. Noah opened the door, exhausted and pale with his red eyes sunken and greeted him in a rude tone.

Tom realized that his time is limited and let go the storm inside him. “Please, give me a moment. I have an art gallery downtown. We’re having a huge exhibition at the end of the week and the main wall is still empty. I just got rejected by another artist and thought I was going to cancel the whole event! Why won’t you let me see the painting of a lady in red that was in your room upstairs? Your help will be greatly appreciated! I just need to know who is the artist...”

“I’m the artist”

“Fantastic! Could you demonstrate your creation?”

Noah was unsure. No one deserved to see the masterpiece, the treasure he created. There was, however, another problem. The salty aroma of dried blood was still surrounding the canvas. He didn’t even frame it yet, so this seemed a great chance. Noah asked Tom to wait for a moment (he wasn’t going anywhere anyway) while he was busy framing the painting and spraying the air freshener. Moyer stood in silence for half of an hour until the artist invited him in.

That was it, that was the painting that had to be the centre of his exhibition. For a moment he lost his dealmaker appearance staring at the picture. And after learning that it was Noah’s creation he suggested him to paint a bigger one for his gallery. Noah agreed but only with one condition – that Darlene would be his model again which appeared to be not so easy problem.

Thomas Moyer wasn’t experiencing that kind of emotional uplift though. What happened between the artist and the model? How is he going to bring peace between Noah and Darlene? Is it even possible? There was a lot to think about when he was approaching Darlene’s house the next day.

Darlene disagreed and told him the reason. Moyer had to use all his creativity to convince her that it’s just the odds of great artists. She didn’t agree that day, but Tom kept asking her for that last painting. Eventually, she gave up. Two days later after the first conversation, Noah was making the new portrait. The Great One. He was back to life, with his cheeks blushed, despite the fact that Darlene wouldn’t even look on him. The awkward silence wasn’t bothering both. He remembered the great days of his sitting in front of the painting of the lady in red. How easy it was to see his great painting so love him back, calming his fears and bringing the peace into his mind. Noah already was eager to finish and get back home, to his real love.

However, once the Great Picture was getting closer to the end his attention shifted to it from the original. He couldn’t wait to see it complete. But there was just one problem. As soon as the draft was ready and Noah started working on coloring, Darlene left, to stay away from any possibility of repetition of the horror she had. He lost himself again, the colours would not become what he wanted, there was something missing and he already knew about it. The little amount of sleep that he had before was gone completely. There was only one thought occupying his brain making him scream in silence. The colour.

Suddenly, he stood up and left the gallery. Moving eased that pain and after a while of brisk walking he was in front of her house again. The torture won’t left him so he knocked the door, more furiously than he had to. Darlene approached the door frightened and asked who was there.

“It’s me, Noah, open the door, I beg you. I won’t hurt you, I just want to apologize. My conscience torments me, I cannot sleep anymore. Please, let’s just talk for a moment”.

He mixed the lies and the truth. Of curse he was tortured but there was nothing about apologies at this point. Nevertheless, touched by his words and seeming sincereness, Darlene opened the door and invited him over.

The next day began as usual, the sun rose as it did for thousands of years, and everything was pretty much the same. Noah was busy in the gallery for the remaining two days and never let anyone in. The day had come, and the doors were finally open for guests. The huge crowd was standing in front of the main wall observing the striking beauty of the painting of a lady in crimson red dress. It kept people hypnotized, there seemed to be some kind of aura around the picture.

Thomas Moyer and Noah were standing by The Masterpiece and you wouldn’t recognize the artist if you say him a day before. Calm and happy, Noah was flowing on the waves of glory.

Impatient, Moyer asked him. “Did you see Darlene? She promised to show up for the exhibition opening.”

“There she is” was Noah’s short response while he pointed on the painting.

Thomas Moyer, being unable to believe in something so terrifying, though that was a stupid joke.

The day was coming to its end and the gallery was finally empty. Only Noah was left in the empty hall, in front of his creation. He loved that girl in crimson red dress, in which all Darlene’s blood was saturated.