Karen got out of the car.

"The trunk is open."

Karen walked to the back and opened the trunk. There was a hiking bag inside.

"Bring it up."

Karen lifted the hiking bag. It was a bit heavy. From the feeling of previous contact, there were a lot of equipment inside.

"Is this your paintbrush inside?" Karen asked.

"Yes, you once called me a mediocre paintbrush."

"If I knew that the artist was you, madam, I would have worshiped under your skirt."

"go inside."

"Okay, ma'am."

Pushing open the courtyard door, Karen walked in carrying her bag, followed closely by Mrs. Hughes.

Karen was wondering if she could knock Mrs. Hughes down if she picked up the hiking bag and threw it backwards.

Immediately, he gave up the idea because he doubted whether he could pick up the bag.

Moreover, what Karen noticed was that Mrs. Hughes held the gun very steadily.

"Do you know when Mary and I met?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

According to normal logic, one who runs a funeral service and the other who runs a funeral service must know each other through business cooperation;

But Aunt Mary had not been a undertaker for very long, and Mr. Hughes was originally managing the Hughes Cremation Society. After Mr. Hughes left, Mrs. Hughes took over.

"The first time I met Mary was one afternoon. I had just won the shooting championship. Before I went on stage to receive the award, Mary came to do my makeup."

"Madam, you can rest assured that I am very timid and I will completely follow your instructions."

"Okay, now, open the door."

"I don't have the key."

Karen put her hand on the doorknob,

"Click",

The door was opened.

This door is actually unlocked!

What Karen didn't know was that a few days ago, a young man named "Jeff" had stood here and expressed similar emotions to this door.

"We've moved all the valuables in the house, why do we need to lock the door?" Mrs. Hughes said with a smile, "Even if the door is locked, I still have tools in my bag to pry it open.

Now, go in."

Karen carried her bag and entered the house.

"Keep going."

"OK."

"Snapped!"

Mrs. Hughes turned on the light.

"Madam, if you turn on the lights, you will easily attract the attention of the neighbors." Karen reminded kindly.

"This is an indifferent society. I don't think that a neighbor who has just moved a house will notice whether the lights should be on at this time, let alone someone who is bored and calls the police on this matter.

Of course, even if you call the police, by the time the police arrive, what should have happened has already happened."

"I agree with you madam about the police. Their dispatch speed is not even as fast as our hearse."

"Go upstairs."

"Okay, ma'am."

"Master bedroom."

"Okay, ma'am."

"Now, put your bag down, and then you lie down on the bed."

Karen walked to the bed and sat down.

Mrs. Hughes held a gun in one hand, slowly squatted down, opened the bag, and seemed to be pulling out the tools inside.

"Madam, if Aunt Mary hadn't insisted on dragging me to have barbecue together, you would have..."

"Yes, the subject of my creation tonight was originally supposed to be Mary. She is my best friend and I know her very well. After she is integrated into my work, I can have a great sense of involvement.

Just like Cole, who knows my sensitive zones, and old Darcy, who has been following me for so long.

You should understand that the most important thing about art is resonance."

"Yes, ma'am, I think so."

There was a sarcastic smile on Mrs. Hughes's lips:

"Shouldn't there still be levels?"

"Believe me, madam, that is the blasphemy of sacred art by a layman like me. I have repented for it countless times in my heart."

Mrs. Hughes took out a knife from her bag. This knife was very similar to the knife used by butchers in the market. It should be very convenient when chopping ribs.

"You can lie down now. Or, you can choose to resist now. Because this is your last chance.

Mink Street is not one of those homeless neighborhoods, and the security has always been very good. Therefore, a gunshot will definitely alarm a lot of people, but please don't worry, I can guarantee that the gunshot also means that you have been shot.

Several holes.”

"It's really a difficult choice." Karen said with emotion.

"indeed."

"Madam, your first work is a religious painting from the Berry Church, and your second work is a religious painting from the Church of the Abyss. I'm very curious. Your third work is going to... No, don't answer it yet, I'll try it.

Just take a guess...

I guess it’s the Cult of Kosmos?”

Mrs. Hughes was a little surprised.

"Did I guess it right?" Karen pretended to be surprised.

"Yes, you guessed it right."

"Let me continue to guess... the one you want to pay tribute to is the painting of the God of Order punishing his daughter Ankara, Symmetra, right?"

"Karen, I have to admit one thing, that is, you really understand me."

"Yes, ma'am, I think we have too many similarities in aesthetics and have too much to talk about, so..."

"That's why I choose you, Karen!"

"..." Karen.

"Actually, you are not Mary's substitute. My first choice for this work is you. If you come back later in the afternoon, then I can only take a step back and choose Mary."

"Madam, I think you must plan well before creating. Ankara's body is divided."

"Yes, so, I'm ready. I will chop you into pieces, um, after you die, so that you won't feel any pain."

"But how do you plan to show the scene of the beast being swallowed up by its huge mouth? I don't want you to repeat the regrets of old Darcy. You know, you actually failed to complete the painting of old Darcy."

"This time, I have a good idea."

At this time,

Karen suddenly noticed a black spot appeared on Mrs. Hughes's face, and the black spot was slowly spreading, covering one of Mrs. Hughes's eyes.

And when saying the next sentence,

Mrs. Hughes's voice was changed to include a man's tone, making it thicker:

"The way I present my art this time is to chop you into fine pieces and then eat you bit by bit."

Karen is very familiar with this timbre;

On the phone: You are interrupting my artistic creation.

That's the sound of that time!

So, what happened to Mrs. Hughes?

Of course she cannot be a man disguised as a woman like Piaget, she is a woman, Karen can be sure of this, because when driving at night, Mrs. Hughes, who was lying in the back seat, lifted up her skirt, and

Under her skirt, she was still wearing very thin and narrow lace.

Although Karen didn’t look intentionally,

But with just a few glances, it was already clear.

Therefore, Mrs. Hughes is definitely not a man!
To be continued...