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“You are...quite magnificent...”

The ropes that bound you felt like claws digging into your skin. You seemed limbless, tied to that chair with your arms and legs all wrapped up in rough fibers, and you only felt all the more helpless when you saw the way he was looking at you.

In his eyes...or eye, rather...you were not a human being. No...you were like...clay. Like a canvas, upon which he would paint a bloody masterpiece. Something malleable, from which he would carve something monstrous. All the while he would be smiling in that sinister manner, maintaining that look which he was currently giving you, as you sat there in the center of that dimly lit room. Alone, with him, under the spotlight.

“...What is it you want from me...?”
Thankfully the grueling aftermath of whatever he'd stunned you with in the first place had started to wear off, enough so that you were able to form some weakly spoken words. And you were weak. Outwith all this, outwith Union and this entire STEM nightmare, even away from all the dreadful monsters and gutturally croaking zombies, you were weak. That was just your personality. Tender and soft, certainly not someone who could look lightly upon the sight of a dead person. Yet they must have seen something in you, to send you in here. Surely you weren't just a...distraction.

Right?

“So innocent...”
Or perhaps that really was the case. Perhaps you really had been sent in here only because MOBIUS felt you'd be a fitting form of bait for this madman. Someone who would definitely scream how he wanted them to. Someone who would shed tears and only look more tragically picturesque in the process. Someone who would make a fine piece of art.
“...You wonder what I want? Well...I would have thought it was clear by your surroundings.”

Stefano, the tall blue-eyed bastard that he was, gestured with gloved hands to the darkness, as if you were somehow supposed to see the room you were situated in. You were glad you couldn't. No doubt it was no different from the rest of this horrible place. 'Quaint little town'? Hardly.
“-Did you not see my art as you wandered this place? Did you not lay eyes upon my perfect pieces?” Stefano questioned, and with a smooth motion doubled over and brought his face to your level.

You weren't particularly tall in the first place, but this 5'11” male seemed like even more of a giant what with you being tied to a chair and all. Though you wished he hadn't come so close to you, for now you stood no chance of escaping that cruel gaze. Nor his touch, which graced against your left cheek, trickling down until his fingers were dancing under your jawline. It made you tremble, and those little shakes of yours only served to bring him more pleasure.

“Yes...” he breathed out, lightly dusting your face with warmth in the process. He slid his digits deftly under your chin, keeping it tilted up, although the edges of your face and the majority of your neck still felt so numb that you doubted you could have looked down anyway. Tying you up seemed like nothing but a garnish when you were already practically paralyzed.

And where would you run to anyway? This was his domain. His all-seeing eye, his lens would catch up with you soon enough. You could run and run and hide and hide, but in the end, he'd capture you.

“...This is exactly what I sought. This...this...fear. Ah...you fear a lot of things, don't you?” he spoke as if he could read you like a book. His hand turned so the back of it now stroked your skin, an oddly comforting motion considering what was likely to come next.

“I can tell you are not particularly strong. Of mind, perhaps, but not of will. I will enjoy this...” Stefano inhaled with anticipation and suddenly pulled away, straightening up and venturing out of the light to fetch something. Panic suddenly wracked your body, and you tried desperately to free yourself. The feeling in your nerves came back like lightning, the sheer adrenaline pushing the wooziness aside. This was something you had never experienced before. The sensation of truly being on the precipice of death. Yes, the creatures in here with you both were terrible, sure. Yet you had been able to avoid them thanks to your quiet and careful approach.
That approach couldn't save you from this situation though. All you could do was beg.

“P-please! Please, please don't kill me! Please, I don't want to become art!” You started to sob, hot tears spilling from your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you bumped the chair against the floor a few times with your efforts. Still, it wasn't enough to help snap the thick threads he had tied you up with. You remained in place, and eventually he returned, looking all too happy about commencing the next steps of his creative procedure.

At first, you almost didn't notice it. You were busily scanning his body for signs of scalpels, razor wire, a gun- anything and everything that could be used to give you a gruesome yet 'beautiful' death. You hadn't expected this though. Those same gloved hands that had touched your skin before were now clamped firmly to a crossbow, upon which a bolt was already loaded. The smirk on his face said it all, and instantly your body was sinking into the wood it was sat upon, hopelessness swallowing you up and keeping you prisoner.

“There is a nuisance...a man who has come in here to stop me, yet cannot appreciate my art in the same way I'm sure you do. Well...assuming you bothered to pay attention to any of it-” For a brief moment, the man seemed bitter, but he swiftly carried on as he drew closer, “-Regardless...he has quite the penchant for using this kind of device. So I decided I would try it out myself. It does seem quite capable of killing quickly...”
His eyes glazed, as he came to a standstill several meters in front of you.
“And that moment, that instant where death occurs, though quick...is by far the most mesmerizing part of it all. That second-” he raised one hand to snap his fingers, then set it back on the weapon again, “-where you see the light leave the eyes...is breathtaking.”

Suddenly, with that final word, he wasn't wasting time anymore. Stefano stopped talking and started raising the bolt point until it was level with your head. You could tell where he was aiming for. Your eye. Your right eye.

“Please!”
That pained beg came again, a choke emerging afterward. You didn't know what to say. What could you say to a man like this? This was no fairytale. Stefano wasn't a misunderstood soul who could be softened with tender words. He was detached, the epitome of cruelty and selfish desire. All he cared about was making art. Your screams, your cries for mercy would only add to the enjoyment.

That certainly seemed to be the case. And yet...something suddenly happened which you did not expect. No, what you had expected was that Stefano would plunge a metal bolt through your eye, splattering matter against the wall behind you. He'd be so sure and certain with his aim that he wouldn't miss, not even if you squirmed. When that was done he'd finally untie you, and carry your stunned and dead body to whatever place he intended to frame you. This set-up did seem a bit dull after all...

You were wrong though. Stefano did none of that. Instead, the artist brought the device down again, a moment of clarity coming to his eye. Not innocence, mind you, never that. However, it was definitely a change of thought. He sucked in his bottom lip before breathing out again in a long sigh.

“Ahh...perhaps this is a bit quick. After all, you aren't like any of the other projects I've had. The Core is an exception to everything of course, but you...you certainly are intriguing...” Stefano purred, his lips curling up and teeth showing as he walked toward your shocked figure.

“Wh...why...you...? Why did you...?” The words didn't come out right. He seemed to grasp what you were saying though.
“I've devised other plans for you my dear.” Stefano's voice became slightly obscured as he crouched down at the back of your chair and sliced the rope apart. He'd freed you, and somehow you were alive when it happened. Baffled, you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt a quick getaway, only sitting there obediently until he pulled you up himself. With weakened legs you stumbled forward and ended up against him, to which the sinister man only smirked. His palm met your back and pulled you closer, while his lips moved down and by your ear. His soft low voice spoke in a whisper against it, tickling the shell.

“You...will be my greatest work yet.”
Stefano smirked again, as his lips left a chaste kiss upon your cheek.
“You...will be my masterpiece.”

Description
“You are...quite magnificent...”

The ropes that bound you felt like claws digging into your skin. You seemed limbless, tied to that chair with your arms and legs all wrapped up in rough fibers, and you only felt all the more helpless when you saw the way he was looking at you.

In his eyes...or eye, rather...you were not a human being. No...you were like...clay. Like a canvas, upon which he would paint a bloody masterpiece. Something malleable, from which he would carve something monstrous. All the while he would be smiling in that sinister manner, maintaining that look which he was currently giving you, as you sat there in the center of that dimly lit room. Alone, with him, under the spotlight.

“...What is it you want from me...?”
Thankfully the grueling aftermath of whatever he'd stunned you with in the first place had started to wear off, enough so that you were able to form some weakly spoken words. And you were weak. Outwith all this, outwith Union and this entire STEM nightmare, even away from all the dreadful monsters and gutturally croaking zombies, you were weak. That was just your personality. Tender and soft, certainly not someone who could look lightly upon the sight of a dead person. Yet they must have seen something in you, to send you in here. Surely you weren't just a...distraction.

Right?

“So innocent...”
Or perhaps that really was the case. Perhaps you really had been sent in here only because MOBIUS felt you'd be a fitting form of bait for this madman. Someone who would definitely scream how he wanted them to. Someone who would shed tears and only look more tragically picturesque in the process. Someone who would make a fine piece of art.
“...You wonder what I want? Well...I would have thought it was clear by your surroundings.”

Stefano, the tall blue-eyed bastard that he was, gestured with gloved hands to the darkness, as if you were somehow supposed to see the room you were situated in. You were glad you couldn't. No doubt it was no different from the rest of this horrible place. 'Quaint little town'? Hardly.
“-Did you not see my art as you wandered this place? Did you not lay eyes upon my perfect pieces?” Stefano questioned, and with a smooth motion doubled over and brought his face to your level.

You weren't particularly tall in the first place, but this 5'11” male seemed like even more of a giant what with you being tied to a chair and all. Though you wished he hadn't come so close to you, for now you stood no chance of escaping that cruel gaze. Nor his touch, which graced against your left cheek, trickling down until his fingers were dancing under your jawline. It made you tremble, and those little shakes of yours only served to bring him more pleasure.

“Yes...” he breathed out, lightly dusting your face with warmth in the process. He slid his digits deftly under your chin, keeping it tilted up, although the edges of your face and the majority of your neck still felt so numb that you doubted you could have looked down anyway. Tying you up seemed like nothing but a garnish when you were already practically paralyzed.

And where would you run to anyway? This was his domain. His all-seeing eye, his lens would catch up with you soon enough. You could run and run and hide and hide, but in the end, he'd capture you.

“...This is exactly what I sought. This...this...fear. Ah...you fear a lot of things, don't you?” he spoke as if he could read you like a book. His hand turned so the back of it now stroked your skin, an oddly comforting motion considering what was likely to come next.

“I can tell you are not particularly strong. Of mind, perhaps, but not of will. I will enjoy this...” Stefano inhaled with anticipation and suddenly pulled away, straightening up and venturing out of the light to fetch something. Panic suddenly wracked your body, and you tried desperately to free yourself. The feeling in your nerves came back like lightning, the sheer adrenaline pushing the wooziness aside. This was something you had never experienced before. The sensation of truly being on the precipice of death. Yes, the creatures in here with you both were terrible, sure. Yet you had been able to avoid them thanks to your quiet and careful approach.
That approach couldn't save you from this situation though. All you could do was beg.

“P-please! Please, please don't kill me! Please, I don't want to become art!” You started to sob, hot tears spilling from your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you bumped the chair against the floor a few times with your efforts. Still, it wasn't enough to help snap the thick threads he had tied you up with. You remained in place, and eventually he returned, looking all too happy about commencing the next steps of his creative procedure.

At first, you almost didn't notice it. You were busily scanning his body for signs of scalpels, razor wire, a gun- anything and everything that could be used to give you a gruesome yet 'beautiful' death. You hadn't expected this though. Those same gloved hands that had touched your skin before were now clamped firmly to a crossbow, upon which a bolt was already loaded. The smirk on his face said it all, and instantly your body was sinking into the wood it was sat upon, hopelessness swallowing you up and keeping you prisoner.

“There is a nuisance...a man who has come in here to stop me, yet cannot appreciate my art in the same way I'm sure you do. Well...assuming you bothered to pay attention to any of it-” For a brief moment, the man seemed bitter, but he swiftly carried on as he drew closer, “-Regardless...he has quite the penchant for using this kind of device. So I decided I would try it out myself. It does seem quite capable of killing quickly...”
His eyes glazed, as he came to a standstill several meters in front of you.
“And that moment, that instant where death occurs, though quick...is by far the most mesmerizing part of it all. That second-” he raised one hand to snap his fingers, then set it back on the weapon again, “-where you see the light leave the eyes...is breathtaking.”

Suddenly, with that final word, he wasn't wasting time anymore. Stefano stopped talking and started raising the bolt point until it was level with your head. You could tell where he was aiming for. Your eye. Your right eye.

“Please!”
That pained beg came again, a choke emerging afterward. You didn't know what to say. What could you say to a man like this? This was no fairytale. Stefano wasn't a misunderstood soul who could be softened with tender words. He was detached, the epitome of cruelty and selfish desire. All he cared about was making art. Your screams, your cries for mercy would only add to the enjoyment.

That certainly seemed to be the case. And yet...something suddenly happened which you did not expect. No, what you had expected was that Stefano would plunge a metal bolt through your eye, splattering matter against the wall behind you. He'd be so sure and certain with his aim that he wouldn't miss, not even if you squirmed. When that was done he'd finally untie you, and carry your stunned and dead body to whatever place he intended to frame you. This set-up did seem a bit dull after all...

You were wrong though. Stefano did none of that. Instead, the artist brought the device down again, a moment of clarity coming to his eye. Not innocence, mind you, never that. However, it was definitely a change of thought. He sucked in his bottom lip before breathing out again in a long sigh.

“Ahh...perhaps this is a bit quick. After all, you aren't like any of the other projects I've had. The Core is an exception to everything of course, but you...you certainly are intriguing...” Stefano purred, his lips curling up and teeth showing as he walked toward your shocked figure.

“Wh...why...you...? Why did you...?” The words didn't come out right. He seemed to grasp what you were saying though.
“I've devised other plans for you my dear.” Stefano's voice became slightly obscured as he crouched down at the back of your chair and sliced the rope apart. He'd freed you, and somehow you were alive when it happened. Baffled, you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt a quick getaway, only sitting there obediently until he pulled you up himself. With weakened legs you stumbled forward and ended up against him, to which the sinister man only smirked. His palm met your back and pulled you closer, while his lips moved down and by your ear. His soft low voice spoke in a whisper against it, tickling the shell.

“You...will be my greatest work yet.”
Stefano smirked again, as his lips left a chaste kiss upon your cheek.
“You...will be my masterpiece.”