As pure white snow cascaded from the clouds, a feeble young man was roaming in the vicinity of his school, like usual. His breath was erratic, each one drawing out a haze of visible air. The subtle sun was descending from its zenith, welcoming deep shadows dancing along Indrath's path, and with that, an eerie sense of foreboding.
As his head drooped towards the ground, a violent breeze assaulted his jet-black hair, leaving his ghastly, viscous left eye exposed. He swiftly placed the veil of hair back to conceal his lifeless stare. While his left eye was like a pale, glassy orb reflecting the world without ever seeing it, his right eye flickered with apprehension and forlorn. Then he continued walking, staring into the ground, drowning in the abyss that is his thoughts.
Feeling the hours bleed away, the young man gazed at the skies — his head stretched back behind his neck while his limp arms helplessly flanked his body. He forced down a nervous swallow. The mournful twilight had presented itself to his beholding, bathing him in crimson light and crisp snowflakes. Yet, being the only thing illuminated by the dusk, like a scintillating angel surrounded by harrowing darkness — he still had a dejected look on his cold, glowing face. Because he knew that this harrowing darkness was nothing compared to where he would go next, and that he was not tantamount to an angel.
He was the devil.
***
"No, silly! That's not how you're supposed to do it. You have to divide the constant with the coefficient."
Indrath was sitting cross-legged, huddled around a table, scrutinizing his homework. On the other side of the table, lay his new private tutor, a young woman in her late twenties, Miss Mina. With long shimmering blonde hair, an adorable set of blue eyes and an overall amiable personality, she was nothing short of breathtaking. What's more, her graceful body reinforced her sublimity — a svelte figure that captures the gaze of every man.
'Focus on the homework damn it!'
Indrath let out a heavy sigh at himself, then blurted out, "Miss Mina, could you show me how to do it? I'm a little confused."
She promptly stood upright and gave him a compliant nod. Then, she proceeded to walk over to Indrath's side of the table, before falling to the ground and putting a palm on her cheek, reading the textbook — eyes squinting and fingers tracing the lines.
The young man caught a furtive glimpse at his new private tutor, and he immediately got mesmerized. From this side of the room, Miss Mina truly looked resplendent. The white light directly hit her face, emphasizing her perfect porcelain skin while her sweet rosy perfume sent Indrath into a cascade of reveries.
Haunting reveries.
"It's quite simple, look here."
yShe began instructing her student on how to solve algebraic formulas, but her teachings were consigned to oblivion — Indrath was not paying any attention to her. Instead, he was staring at Miss Mina, deep into her soul, as if his right eye could unravel all of her secrets. But of course, that was not the case — he was studying the top of his tutor's head.
"Uh... Indrath, were you even looking?" Miss Mina retorted while meeting the young man's gaze, with one corner of her lips upturning in an awkward smile.
Trying to stay calm after failing to keep his focus on his work and instead being a creep — and getting caught at that, he simply shrugged and acquiesced with a nod of his head.
"Well then, it's getting dark, so I should get going now. You be sure to study, alright?"
It was indeed late. In fact, Indrath had come home way past dusk, giving her poor tutor the burden of teaching him up until eleven at night. Because of his habit of circling the school grounds after classes, he always came home late.
"Wait, Miss Mina. Before you go, I wanted to give you a gift. You know... for always keeping up with my tiresome schedule"
The tutor's face gleamed with mirth. In all her gentle grace, she smiled at Indrath — cute dimples glamorizing her cheeks. Then, knowing what was to come next, Indrath excused himself out of the room in a hurry.
In that moment, those haunting reveries came back, tormenting him once more.
Indrath impulsively ran to the bathroom, uneasy with his own sudden thoughts. Upon closing the door, the first thing he fixed — with his one good eye, was the painting above the toilet. Frowning, he was filled with dread at the scene of the macabre depiction — his glassy left eye reflecting all the horror before him. It was as if the painting had manifested a hand of pure tenebrosity that was endeavoring to crush his heart.
"Goddamn it."
Reaching a nervous hand towards the loathsome painting, he unmounted it from the wall, revealing a secret compartment inside. A cold sweat ran down from Indrath's forehead.
Because therein lays the tool to which hundreds had succumbed, including himself.