By Subhancy Jaiswal
Cold — that's what she feels.
She works day and night just for a meal.
“Hola, señorita! You are very pretty,
My God, what a fantastic beauty!”
She thought, Did he call me pretty?
No… I think the word was pity.
The stranger said, “Though I make paintings muy bonito,
I don’t know if I can paint such an exotic glow.”
The lady spoke, “Lo siento, do you know me, señor?
Even if you do, you don’t know how I suffer.”
The painter offered, “I can take all your suffering and your pain.
Let me paint you—and you will never have to work again.”
Listening to this, the poor girl began to gain interest.
What he said next… also earned her trust.
“I will never do anything without your permission.
Painting you is just my mission—
But I want your full submission.”
The excited woman phrased, “Offer accepted! I hope I won’t regret it.
But can I ask—how much will I get for it?”
The painter smiled, “I will draw three paintings, if that’s your concern.
And I will give you whatever you want in return.”
She was happy.
To her hunger, he gave food.
To her sleep, a warm bed.
If this is a dream, I never want it to end.
The painter said to the beauty,
“I will paint you today—my lady, please be ready.”
She entered the room with delicacy.
He smirked—If only she knew my conspiracy.
“Look at this apple on the table and admire it with no complaints.
Your lips shouldn’t move until I say,” he explained.
The painter took hours to complete.
Then he asked, “Tell me, what do you need?”
She replied, “I need a house—muy grande,
Along with a lot of clothes to wear every day.”
She got an answer she expected—
The painter said, “Be ready tomorrow. Your wish is granted.”
The next day, he said,
“Buenos días, señorita—ready for your next session?”
She smiled, “Sí, señor—without any question.”
The apple was still on the table.
She frowned, “Do I have to look at it again?”
“Yes and no,” he continued,
“Look at it as if you want to touch it.
I won’t hold the brush
Until your expression seems fit.”
It was hours, but the canvas was naked.
The beauty just wanted the painting to be completed.
She remembered his words again—
Then focused on the apple, with seductive eyes.
That caught the painter by surprise.
He held the brush with a pleasing grin.
He smirked, “Now just one more—then it’s a win-win.”
“The work is completed.
Let me fulfill your next wish, as I promised.”
The hesitant woman said,
“The casa grande will seem empty…”
“Very well, mi vida—I’ll fill it up with servants, plenty.”
The second painting is done. My time here is trimmed.
I should be happy, not feel grimmed.
The beauty was lost in thought when the painter arrived.
He smirked, knowing in her heart, something thrived.
The painter entered, “Time has come for the third painting.
Meet me tomorrow, at the usual place, the usual timing.”
The beauty went to him the next day—with a heavy heart.
The painter began instructing her… but she didn’t want him to start.
He pointed at the red apple.
“You’ve seen it. Even hoped to touch the blood.
Now fight your battle…
And eat la manzana, my beloved.”
A desire burned inside her.
Now, she wished to live with the painter,
Year after year.
Instead of the apple,
The beauty looked at the painter—
Who snickered in joy.
She had finally been caught in his ploy.
The painting was finished.
He asked the beauty for her last wish.
The beauty smiled seductively,
“You said you’d fulfill my wishes—whatever they may be, mi pintor.
Then I seek you. I yearn for you.
Never let me go—even if I suffer.”
The painter stepped forward,
“Una mujer, so attractive!
You had to be my captive.”
No one heard from the couple after the event.
“So what happened next?” the readers asked my intent.
Years later,
The painter completed his third painting… with another beauty.
This beauty is also stunning—oh, absolutely.
Is she your new target, 'painter'?
“Well, yes she is… I’ve already tainted her.”
Tell the readers what happened to 'that' beauty.
Tell us—what are you going to do with 'this' beauty?
“What a wonderful way to pursue me…”
The painter took out a red jar—unbothered.
Inside was an apple, covered in red liquid.
What are you doing, wicked?
“Peeling una manzana.”
What is the red liquid?
“It’s blood… blood de la belleza.”
He heard a scream behind—
“You are a monster!”
“No, mi amor.
Just a painter.”