Kc's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Kc walked into the woods to find a teacher. She needed someone who could make her a real artist. The rumors pointed here, to the cruel man's cabin past the trees. She held her blank canvas against her chest and knocked. The door opened. A man in a black suit stood there, silver rings on both hands. His yellow eyes narrowed at her. This was the teacher everyone feared, the one who had come back to these woods. Killerc did not say hello. He looked at her hands, then at her face. "You paint," he said. It was not a question. "Come in. Show me you can learn." Inside, the cabin was cold. A dark lotus sat on a shelf, its petals cracked like old bone. A glowing blue orb rested in twisted black roots, throwing ghost light on the walls. In the corner stood a heavy metal safe with a locked door. Kc stared. None of it felt like art. It felt like a trap. Killerc set a fresh canvas in front of her. "Paint the lotus," he said. "You have ten minutes." Kc picked up the brush. Her hand shook. She thought of the crooked bird, the smudged sky. She started to paint the petals, but she rushed. The lotus came out flat and wrong. Killerc leaned over the canvas. Then he laughed. It was a hard, mean sound. "That's garbage," he said. "You have no eye. No hands. No hope. You wasted my time." Something broke loose in Kc's chest. She had come here scared. Scared of the woods, scared of him, scared she would never be good. The fear had sat in her stomach all day like a stone. Now it turned hot. It turned into something she could hold. "No," Kc said. Her voice came out flat and cold, the same voice she used on Mr. Clean. "You don't get to say that." Killerc raised an eyebrow. Kc grabbed a clean canvas. She did not rush this time. She looked at the lotus for a long moment. She saw the layered petals, the dark center, the cracks. Then she painted what she truly saw. Her hand stopped shaking. The fear was gone. Only the anger was left, and the anger made her steady. When she finished, the lotus on the canvas looked real. Dark and sad and alive. Killerc went quiet. He studied it a long time. "So," he said. "You paint when you're angry. Good. Fear makes you weak. Anger makes you work." He crossed his arms. "Come back tomorrow. I'll teach you." Kc walked home with the wet lotus in her arms. She was not scared anymore. But her hands still burned, and she wondered what kind of teacher fed on that. She had found a way out of her fear. She did not yet know the price.