<strong>Seven Steps to Success College, Art Studio B</strong><br/><br/>As he touched the painting easel, time itself seemed to freeze if only for a moment.  The captivating beauty of the painting seemed to illuminate itself in all its beauty and glory, impossibly and platonically perfect.  The painting seemed to turn, the eyes of the lovely young woman staring back in warning with moist cyan paint.  "<strong>They hide in the shadows</strong>," the painting spoke, and after that instant, everything was calm and normal, the easel easily turned around, everything except for Cassandra.<br/><br/>Her skin was just wrong, as if she'd torn out the skins of other human beings and stitched herself back together like some sort of unholy puppet.  The stink of death and decay filled the room as if the wretched thing which was still painted as a pretty nubile girl had been dead for weeks.  Rather than her nose seeming a little too big, it looked like it had fallen off, and she'd done her best to use clay and paste to stick it back together.  "It's truly beautiful, Mr. Biron," she said politely, gliding towards her purse with a practiced grace that her mortifying flesh still maintained.  The cloth covering slipped slightly, and she took her sweet time in covering herself, but thankfully the lights were too dim to see the wretched thing completely exposed.  "I simply must have it.  Will a thousand dollars suffice?"  Even her voice sounded wrong, as if the breath working its way through her once-ample chest tore through fields of broken glass and decayed lungs in order to provide her croaking words.