A woman approached the back door to, what she was told, the company she sought to investigate. She looked around for a second, before she pulled a locksmith key out of her coat and picked the door open. She quickly slipped in and closed the door shut so noone would notice.

Once inside, she noticed how dark and dingy the place was, almost like the school's boiler room in a way. Slowly, she took one step at a time down the stone stairwell, and noticed the rats scurrying about, trying to avoid the path of the woman that was many times their size... vermin.

It was by her choice that she came here, however; she was originally put off the case by her chief, but she wanted to take care of the job by herself, while they were waiting a long time for a warrant. A rash move, but she didn't want to risk any more lives that could of possibly fallen into the hands of the cult.

The cult comprised of former staff members of the company, that previously worked on a computer simulation environment. However that same program was recalled because of many reported deaths of its customers and users. Now, the cult wants to continue to kill more victims using that same program... But why..?

She had only one way to find out; and it was getting behind the walls of their lair. She cautiously made her way down the corridors of cement and flickering lights, pulling out a gun from inside her coat.

The slender fingers of a right hand embraced the lower cheek of a thin face, the soft palm pressing against clean skin. The supporting elbow was rested upon the artistic lines of an ebony wood counter that also folded and flattered the rester's feminine locks. These tresses where a clean white, made cleaner and more imposing by their unadorned simpleness. The tilt of the resting head brought stray threads of white in lines across a beautiful face, giving a look of wistful boredom.

A soft sigh seemed to charm the dim lights overhead into a shy tremble. The movement passed unnoticed by the eyes, eyes whose color were either a softer gold or brighter brown. Eyes, closed to contemplate a feeling of unfulfilled inspiration.

He loved beauty. The rest of his kind consumed a rougher form of attraction. He had tasted this before and found it not his liking. It had made him feel as if he were suffocating, drowning in something with too sweet. It sometimes creeped too slowly down his throat, other times refilling his mouth before he had swallowed the first bite. His meal was controlling how he ate. While others perhaps were fascinated by this feeling, he was disgusted.

He was an artist. And in this world he could create, but had currently surrounded himself with nothing but three dim lights and a countertop. Of course, he had created many beautiful worlds before. Complete worlds, which he had presented to gasping audiences. They had been pleased with him and for a while, he was pleased with them. But now he was growing bored.

The women that were given to him were pretty, but cheap. He would construct a world with their desires, masterfully warping reality to please them. But they were pleased much too easily. Or worse, they would grow as dirty as his companions and bring the repulsive feeling of choking back to his throat. He was bored with imperfection, tortured by a world he could manipulate in every way but to have what he wanted.

It had been three days before the last one, and despite his wrathful outbursts, a meal had not been offered to him. His interest was short, as was his temper. Projects, such as the unfinished cafe he was sitting in, were left, barely started, in a fit of temper.

Perhaps the next girl would please him. But they all did, at first. There was something beautiful about each of them. Their eyes, their legs. Their tears, their laughter. Their tempers, their jokes. It always faded. They always changed, deluding themselves into thinking that they were as perfectly beautiful as him and his creations. But they would please him at first... And one had been promised to him today by a trembling man he had spoken with earlier.

"Today," he mused, something dark in his musical tones. "Or I shall take one of them."

For of course, there was also beauty in murder.

The black hair that was normally in her eyes was put aside by a simple barette, so as to see more clearly with her ruddy eyes. Aruca surveyed her surroundings a moment before she continued to make her way further into the company.. she could feel herself going deeper.. but where could the supposed program be...?

She continued further in, until she was at a door of sorts, made of stainless steel. "That's odd... almost sci-fi.." She mused to herself. She wondered if this led to the monstrosity that the company staff had been working on. She could only hope that her guess had been correct...

She slowly reached out to the door, but before she could open it, it automatically opened. She was surprised at first, but she wouldn't hesitate to go inside. What greeted her inside the room at first was darkness, but as she took a few steps in, she gasped as the room spontaneously lit up, revealing itself to be a stainless steel lab, covered ceiling to floor in it. And at the center of the room was a hi-tech, cylinder-shaped object that could appear to be a coffin... Was that what they were working on...?

Mmm...? Although the artist resided within his own works, his perception still extended to the general area where the console lay. However, his sense of the other world was dull. It was a stumbling dancer overlooked within a stage of moving art, not worth the effort it would take to concentrate upon. And it took a great amount of concentration to see more than a twitch of static. And while reception was poor, this static probably represented movement.

Ahhh...! Irritation marked itself with creases upon the bridge of his nose. His hand slid clumsily up to soothe the stirring sense of nausea gathering at his forehead. Another reason he prefered to keep his eyes on familiar ground. As he recovered, the dim lights overhead disappeared completely, along with their source. They were making his head feel worse. And besides, someone was coming.

He had not seen enough to determine whom his guest was and therefore, could not prepare ahead of time. He had been promised a new companion. However, the man he had spoken with earlier had the shifting eyes of a liar and had stumbled away looking rather doomed and miserable.

The artist rose from his seat, his slender frame straightening with movement as graceful and flexible as water. Already the counter had gone, stored with the lights. Another half-finished scene stored away to be recalled at whim. And the figure that had once decorated it? The body had been stored away for later use, the mind parting into two other scene.

The first of the two had not yet been created. It was like a studio awaiting use. A blank piece of paper surrounded by paints of every hue, watched by the various drafts hanging at the walls. The second was more defined, an elegant sort of meeting hall with a touch more of cliche satanic touches than usual.

Planning mutilation and charm in the same train of thought, he waited.

Aruca cautiously approached the machine, and examined it throroughly. She then noticed a slight crease on the more rounded surface, and reached her hand out to it. Like before, it opened by itself before she could even touch it. That's odd...

She began to lean in and examine the inside, but before long, she felt a force push her into the hi-tech coffin. "AH!" She landed on the cushion on the device, and before she could look back up through the opening, it closed shut behind her. As well, she felt something grab her, turn her around and press her back against the leather cusion, pinning her down. "Wh.. what's going on..!?" She thought aloud in panic, and just then, she felt two plates press against her temples. And just then, she felt an electric shock to her brain.



Aruca lied on the ground in nothing but white. She slowly opened her eyes and could feel a surface, but she couldn't see it. There was white, everywhere. Slowly, she got up, and began to look around, hoping that there was at least something here...

A breeze began to whisper through the nothingness, touching the faces of both artist and subject with hands of gentle cold. There was an open window now, behind the woman. The fluttering curtains were a subdued gray-blue, patterned with whimsical ivory swirls. And all this was attached to a wall. The wall was connected to other walls, walls that weren't there before but were now. The ones in this room- for there had to be more rooms up the stairs and through halls that had appeared- were decorated with thin lines of pearl and thicker lines of pastel blue. The thicker lines had flowers within, in the off-white color the thinner stripes were.

"To whom do I owe the honor of your company, pretty madame?"

The words had come from her left, where he stood. A slender man with a youthful face. He almost looked casual, but the shine in his cinnamon eyes and the tremble on his smiling lips betrayed his shyness. In his white-gloved left hand was a hat with a red ribbon, his right curled over his chest as he bowed in greeting. His blonde curls trembled about his pretty face as he glanced up at the end of his bow, to see if the woman was pleased.

"My name is Jesse, pretty madame," he offered, inching closer to her. "What is yours?"

Aruca looked around a bit at the change in surroundings. She was in a victorian room, which was according to her tastes... but... she thought she was in the room with the machine earlier... did she end up inside the program..?

She then heard a voice and turned around, noticing that it was a young man around her age, trying to appear shy and flattering.. However, needed to keep her guard up here. "Aruca.. Aruca Thelmoore." She said, with a light curtsey.

Jesse stops a few feet away from the young woman, his honey eyes fixing a docile gaze just under her eyes. Although she had responded kindly, he could sense the unease in her emotions. It was not unusual for his guests to panic, anywhere from the first few hours to the first few days in his company. And most women did not take well to having a computer program comfort them, not until they had been deluded to believe in his reality.

"Miss Aruca," he repeats, speaking her name in a breath. It sounded almost as if he had whispered her name to the wind. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman~"

He continues to watch her for a moment. While the demure nature of his gaze did not change, he was examining her as one might examine the ingredients to a future dinner. She was a fair creature, but average at most. However, she had good sense. An idea of what was beautiful in this world. Then, glancing at her woefully skinny frame... Maybe not.

Having figured out that the woman was not planning to say anything else, Jesse speaks. "Pretty Miss, you bless me with your company. What do you require from me?"