A/N Hi. How's your day been?

Have you guys heard 'Love in the Middle of a Firefight' by Dillon Francis ft. Brendon Urie? Its so effing good man. I've been listening to it all week.

" I want something dark. Something tragic. " your client tells you, " I want people to feel the sadness and/or anger the painting will give off. "

Ideas are already rushing into your head as you listen carefully to your client's instructions.

His instructions were very vulgar. If any other normal person would have heard this, they would immediately deem him a psychopath and decline.

But in all honesty, you weren't exactly bothered by his taste. If anyone were to go through your shelves, they would find you insane due to the amount of horror/thriller books occupying most of the space on your shelves.

You have a couple of video games of the same genre as well, but you haven't been able to play it often.

" So what do you think? Can you do it in the next three weeks? " he asks you.

" I believe so. " you reply, with a sheepish grin.

" Great! You know, I'm really glad you agreed to do this. I've already called two other artists, but they both ran for hills. " He laughs and so do you.

Again, if some other person heard you two, they would think you both were psychopaths or planning a murder.

. . . . .

You can't run from me. I'll always find a way.

That was one of the many messages sent from the same unknown number for the past few weeks. You already showed it to the police and they tried reassure you when they said they would track down the number.

But that was four days ago.

The messages were still incoming and they have still found nothing. You were starting to think they were just slacking off, eating donuts in their police car.

It was getting pretty hard to focus on your work, especially with the messages coming in daily, but the guys always managed to get you back on track.

Joe loved to tease your painting while it was still unfinished because it looked kinda weird in that state, but you didn't mind.

Andy kept track of your health and your supplies. He helped give you ideas on your painting when you couldn't focus.

Pete was hilariously weird with you and the guys and sometimes he would share pizza with you just so you could be motivated. You later learned that he doesn't share pizza with just anyone.

Patrick offered you food and movies whenever you needed a break and even when you don't need one. He once lured you with lasagna so you could go sightseeing in Paris with them.

Oddly enough, none of the guys questioned your little episode a few weeks ago and you intend to let it stay that way.

" Why are you doing such a dark painting. " Patrick asked, leaning closer to the easel.

" Because my client said so. " you replied, standing up and snatching a pizza piece from Pete's stash.

" Hey! " Pete tried to reach back for it, but he was too late.

" Yeah, but why'd you agree? Don't you think its a bit too much? " Patrick asked again.

" Ever heard of Arthur Suydam? "

" Nope. "

" Also known as the Zombie King. He's a comic artist for Batman, Deadpool, The Walking Dead, Marvel's Zombies, and other zombie and gory related stuff. " you say, showing him Arthur's works with your phone, " And you know I love those kind of things. "

" Oh wow, this guy is good. " he mutters, taking your phone in his hands before looking back at you and placing your phone on a desk, " Well, that explains a lot. "

" Damn right it does. " Pete says, leaning in the same manner as Patrick as he drapes an arm over him while holding a piece of pizza in the other.

You walk back to your easel, but not before grabbing your bag of supplies. " Oh for goodness sake, I'm out of grey paint. " you said, throwing the bag on the floor beside the easel.

" Finally, something to do. " Andy says as he stretches before going out the door with his wallet and phone.

" I'll come with. " you said.

" Us too! "

. . . . .

You walked slowly across the aisle with the guys trailing behind, in which they played with random things they passed by.

" Quit it! " you whisper-shouted as a pencil flew and hit your head.

" Sorry (Y/n). " Patrick apologised and you sighed.

" Hey Andy, what should I go for? Light or dark grey? " you asked.

Andy quickly stopped playing with the brushes, " I don't know. You're the artist, not me. "

You shrugged and grabbed both shades of color to the counter. After paying, you got out of the store, the guys undoubtedly noisy.

Your phone started to chime and you immediately answered it even when its an unknown number.

" Hello? "

" Miss (L/n)? " a female voice asked.

" Yes? "

" I'm sorry to say this at a late notice, but he's escaped and now finding a way to get to you. "

A/N Yes I know, there's no fluff. I'm sorry. I just wanted to put some suspense I guess.