"Mr. Allen, you haven't answered my question. Are you happy?" Lucas slowly pulled an apron from his small bag and tied it on. The moment Samuel caught sight of the apron, his eyes widened in shock.
The apron was smeared with dried, blackened blood. If not for the faint remnants of white fabric at the edges, Samuel might have thought it had always been black.
"What... What are you trying to do? Don't come any closer! Don't make me call for help back at the camp!" Fear flashed across Samuel's face. But as Lucas pulled out a scalpel, his legs froze in place. The smile on Lucas's face stiffened into something grotesque.
"There's no need for that, Mr. Allen. You can't escape. I absolutely won't allow such a flawless piece of art to vanish before my eyes. I've lost it several times, and now I
