Crimson Kiss

The Studio Shoot

Lauren Strauss’s apartment studio was a testament to her meteoric rise. Ring lights, tripods, and sleek cameras took up most of the space, with every corner carefully curated to maintain the aesthetic she had so meticulously built for herself.

The soft glow of a ring light illuminated the pristine white walls, bouncing off the mirrored surfaces and the carefully arranged props in the background. On the far side of the room, a makeup station was tucked into a corner, an assortment of beauty products neatly lined up, waiting for the next transformation.

The room buzzed with quiet but undeniable energy as Zack, the man who had become Lauren’s unofficial right-hand in this ever-growing empire, fiddled with the camera angles. His expression was one of intense focus as he adjusted the lens, making sure every shot was just right.

“Move it a little to the left,” Zack muttered, stepping back to assess the frame. His voice was low, and there was an almost obsessive quality to his movements as he tinkered with the setup.

“Perfect. Lauren, you ready?”

Sitting in front of the mirror, Lauren was halfway through transforming herself into Ella, the latest victim whose tragic story she planned to embody. The makeup artist, Lara, worked her magic with practiced precision.

She was a quiet presence, but one who understood the art of creating the raw, unsettling realism that Lauren had come to be known for. As Lara meticulously blended bruises onto Lauren’s cheekbones, added dark circles under her eyes, and adjusted the tattered gown Lauren had customized for the shoot, the room filled with a sense of anticipation.

The transformation wasn’t just about the makeup; it was about capturing the essence of a victim’s pain, bringing their stories back to life, even if only for a brief moment.

“Almost there,” Lara said, her voice a gentle murmur as she applied the finishing touches. “Just give me five more minutes.”

Zack leaned against the table, crossing his arms, his eyes scanning the room, making sure everything was aligned with their plan. “By the way,” he said, breaking the silence with an air of casual curiosity, “why’d you agree to go to Steve’s lodge in the Rockies?”

Lauren glanced at Zack through the reflection in the mirror, her expression unreadable at first. Then, she caught his skeptical look and arched an eyebrow.

Lara’s brush paused midair as Lauren shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play off the question as if it wasn’t a big deal. “He told me there are tons of mysteries up there. Fresh content, Zack. It’s a chance to take this channel to the next level.”

Zack’s brows furrowed in disbelief, his skepticism growing stronger with every word. “You know that place has a reputation, right? People say weird stuff happens there. Folks disappearing, ghost stories, the whole nine yards.”

Lauren rolled her eyes, exasperated by his concern. “Ghost stories? Really? Come on, Zack. That’s just superstition.”

Zack’s posture stiffened, his tone serious as he leaned in slightly. “I’m serious. The place has a bad vibe. And you’re not exactly traveling with a Boy Scout, Lauren. Steve Walton isn’t as squeaky clean as he acts.”

Lauren turned her body slightly, catching Zack’s gaze through the mirror. She could sense his unease, but she wasn’t going to let it deter her. “It’s just a lodge, Zack. I’m going to film content, not go ghost-hunting. Plus, Steve’s been super supportive. He gets what I’m trying to do here. He’s been offering me more than just a place to stay. It’s an opportunity.”

Zack exhaled sharply, shaking his head in frustration. “Supportive, huh? Or is this just about you and Steve getting cozy?”

Lauren’s cheeks turned a soft pink, a subtle blush creeping up her neck as she avoided his gaze. She crossed her arms in defense, though there was a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Maybe a little of both. What’s wrong with that?”

Before Zack could respond with another pointed comment, Lara chimed in, her voice light and persuasive, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened in the room. “Zack, why don’t you just come with us? Think of it as an adventure. It could be fun.”

Zack hesitated, running a hand through his hair, his uncertainty evident as he mulled over the idea. “Fine. If you two are going, I guess someone has to keep an eye on things.”

Lauren grinned widely, her face lighting up with a gleam of satisfaction. “Knew I could count on you. You’re the best, Zack.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, though a reluctant smile crept onto his face. “Let’s just get this shoot done first.”

With that, Lauren stood up and moved toward the set, her transformation nearly complete. The torn gown hung loosely off her shoulders, the fabric barely clinging to her form in a way that made it look as though it had been violently ripped from her body. The bruises, cuts, and wounds on her arms and legs—painstakingly applied by Lara—looked disturbingly real, as though she had just escaped some horrific ordeal. As she positioned herself on the cold, hard floor, her body twisted into an unnatural pose, mimicking the crime scene photos Zack had painstakingly studied in preparation for the shoot.

When Zack and Lara looked at her, the scene was so chillingly convincing that they both exchanged uneasy glances. Lauren’s ability to channel the plight of a victim, to embody the raw emotions of pain and fear, was unmatched. It was a talent that always left them both a little shaken. She made it seem so real, so hauntingly believable.

“Rolling in three, two, one,” Zack said, his voice steady, though there was a slight tremor as he initiated the recording. The camera’s lens shifted into focus, and the live broadcast flickered to life on Lauren’s t****k account.

Her pre-recorded narration began to play softly in the background, weaving a haunting, tragic story about Ella’s final moments. The audio was layered with the sound of rain, faint and eerie, almost as if the atmosphere itself mourned the life that had been lost.

“Ella was found here,” Lauren’s voice intoned, its cadence slow and measured, “Her body bruised, her spirit broken. She fought until the very end, but no one heard her cries. Today, we remember her story.”

The camera panned slowly across the set, capturing every haunting detail: the overturned furniture, the scattered belongings, the broken pieces of what was once a home, and finally, Lauren herself. Her expression, frozen in a twisted mixture of terror and pain, was so real, so raw, that it made Zack’s heart clench in his chest. It was the kind of performance that left no room for doubt. Lauren had become Ella.

“She was a daughter, a sister, a friend,” the narration continued, each word falling like a stone in the silence. “Her life mattered. Yet her killer walks free. What did Ella do to deserve this fate?”

Lauren slowly rose to her feet, her movements deliberate, slow, and eerie. She stared directly into the camera, her green eyes wide with a mixture of defiance and sorrow. At that moment, it was as if she wasn’t Lauren anymore—she was Ella, pleading for justice.

“If I ever met her killer,” she said, her voice steady, yet filled with emotion, “I’d ask them why. Why did Ella have to die?”

Zack ended the recording with a sharp click, exhaling the breath he had been holding. “Another hit,” he said, flashing Lauren a thumbs-up, though there was a touch of unease in his eyes.

Lauren leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply. She wiped her hands on her gown, still processing the weight of the scene. “It’s good, but I need more, Zack. Bigger stories, bigger risks. Steve’s right—Colorado could be the game-changer we need.”

Zack folded his arms, a frown still etched on his face. “I don’t trust that guy. But if this is what you want, I’ll back you up. But just remember…”

He paused, his expression softening. “It’s about the stories, not the glitz. Don’t lose sight of why you started this.”

Lauren smiled, nodding as she shifted back to herself, shedding the character of Ella like a skin.

“I know, Zack. But sometimes, to keep telling those stories, you’ve got to play the game.”

Lara, who had been packing away her makeup kit, grinned playfully. “And Lauren’s always been a pro at that.”

Lauren laughed, though it was a sound tinged with an edge of ambition. “The game’s the only way to stay in it, Lara. And if I have to play a little dirty to win, well…” She trailed off, her smirk playful but determined.