A streak of blue swept across the canvas as Dillan moved the brush.  It ran parallel to a broader stroke of green but they both merged into a cloud of brown.  Dillan leaned back in his chair and tried to see where the painting was going.  Nothing good could be created today, because he was tired and confused. He had been working too hard and staying up far too late.

"This is ****." he thought to himself.

The brush landed amidst the paints on the table beside him when he threw it down.  He scooted his chair back to take one final view of his work.  It simply wasn't right.  The blending of the colors into the skin was tacky and the ribcage was just not supporting the image at all.  What bothered him most, was how horrible the curves around the neck had been done.  Nothing was right.  Giving up, Dillan rose out of his chair and patted the body nailed to his basement wall.  He walked towards the steps while pulling a out a cigarette from behind his ear.  The basement was well lit and for each wall there were two bodies attached to it.  Some were well into the late stages of decay and a few were still fresh.  Each held on its skin a brilliant piece of art except for two: the one he had just been working on and Ben who was the latest captive.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Ben yelled as Dillan stopped to light his cigarette.

"Wow, Ben." Dillan said, shooting him a thumb up.  "Most people don't have the energy to talk by now.  You must be one of those strapping, corn fed boys, eh?"

Ben looked at him with hate and a hint of desperation.  "You didn't answer my question."

Dillan looked Ben over; he had lost quite a bit of weight so far and was rather pale.  All of the other people, now dead, had been pinned to the wall with nails.  It wasn't done in classic crucifix style but the nails had been driven through the excess skin on all of the limbs and the torso. It was like in the cheap Robin Hood movies when Robin would shoot arrows all around a person.  Dillan had gotten lazy for Ben, though, and decided to use his staple gun instead.  It had worked well enough.

"Do I need a reason?" Dillan asked, exhaling smoke.

"There's got to be some reason for why you're doing this?" Ben gasped.

Dillan ran his fingers through his shaggy, black hair and scratched his head.  He pursed his lips and thought a moment.  Snapping out of it, he said, "I guess I just enjoy it."

"What the ****? Can you even comprehend what you're putting me through? How much pain I'm feeling?"

"I don't know." Dillan said.  "You're the guy stuck to my wall with crap I bought from Home Depot, so why don't you tell me."

"**** you!"

"It's amazing how all you people become so rude after you go through a little bit of pain." Dillan said.  He opened his mouth to say something else but was interupted by the doorbell.  He looked at Ben wide eyed and with a child like grin.  Clapping his hands lightly, he said, "It looks like you might have a new roommate Ben!  I'll make popcorn and we can put on PJ's and we can have a pillow fight and we can talk about boys and our periods! Yay!"

Ben looked at Dillan with confusion more than anything else. 

After holding the ecstatic face for a second longer, Dillan dropped it becoming completely deadpan.  He started walking up the steps, towards the light from above, and said, "Who knows...it might be a psycologist or something.  That way you can have someone else to bitch to."  He continued up the steps and vanshed from sight.

Ben let loose a sigh as he stared at the concrete floor.  After a few seconds the lights turned off and voices echoed from upstairs.  All he could do was wonder who his new roommater would be.