Jack has always seen art in death. The splash of red that always leaves behind that familiar jolt. That euphoric sense of madness.

He was always looking for more work but something whispered on the wind. Something about a grand masterpiece.

Leave your tools behind.

But his tools-knives, guns, swords-they were like his children. How could he possibly…

It will never be yours, then.

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Jack was getting more and more annoyed with these voices. Why couldn’t they show themselves? Why the tricks?__

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Leave them behind and the dream you desperately cling to? Will be yours. Don’t? Your chance will be gone.

He reluctantly left his children behind.

Time passed and he saw nothing that could be considered art. Until he walked out to the forest.

Blood red leaves littered the canvas, shining just right as the sun was just overhead.

He noticed wandering through the forest, a woman.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen one before. No he used many for his “paintings”. But this particular one was different. She seemed to scream perfection. With his babies? He could resume his work but he would have to use his hands this time. He got closer to her perfect body, perfect skin, eyes of blue pools, hair that glistened off the wind.

He never met someone so perfect in his life. Then she spoke:

“Something told me that I could come here to die.”

She said those words like it was a fleeting thought and strangely enough? It surprised him.

“Why do you want to die?” He asked like he hasn’t caused so many himself.

“Oh…just my parents died, my pet just recently passed, no one in my family is around, I have no friends or any relationship with anyone, I’m quite alone.” She said calmly.

Jack couldn’t believe that she was so calm after all that has happened to her. To accept death so willingly? It seemed wrong.

“Oh, you need more? Let’s see…I lost my job, twice. I now live in a box where people walk by as if you’re already dead already. So? I’m taking there advice.”

The warm wind basked through.

“Are you my reaper?”

Jack embraced her, the smell of lilies hung in the air as he began to cry. But he was smiling. For after all this time his masterpiece wasn’t what he wanted. It was something else entirely.