Horrifying Horror Stories

The Painting

The silence of the museum was odd, especially since it happened to be during the lunch rush. The man crept forward, his grip on the black backpack getting tighter. His eyes observed the large, glass dome as he brushed off white lint from his black outfit. Everything has been set in place and tonight, the man would be pulling off the biggest heist of his life; the Mona Lisa.

The building seemed to tower over him as the front of the museum had barriers that connected to an entrance door, the door one of the ones hat you push to have it spin, like a spiral.

The man ran a hand through his greasy black hair, the hair spray seeming to set it into place. No one seemed to be around as his brown eyes swept over the garden out front. In a swift moment, he took a deep breath and walked in, trying to dodge the many cameras.

The inside was lit brightly due to the glass, the paintings seeming to glow. The man knew where he needed to go, and yet it still seemed quite puzzling. He turned to try and find someone to help him, but saw no one. The lady that stood at the front desk had disappeared, along with the few guards. While many would have found it odd, the man found it as an opportunity. The museum had been gifted the painting for a few months, and since there was no security, it made for an easy snatch.

The man walked through the halls, stopping every few minutes to admire the paintings, as he himself was an aspiring artist.

The click of his boots sent echoes through the large hallways, the ceilings built tall above the floor. As he wandered, his eyes kept watch for anyone, though still found no one guarding anything. If he had enough time, the man could grab more paintings to sell and he would make millions.

"May I help you sir?" the man jumped at the sudden voice, turning to see a well dressed woman, her pantsuit a white color with red splotches. At first, the man could've sworn it was blood, but he was too caught up with how youthful she looked.

Her curly red hair fell inches above her shoulders, her bangs held neatly back with a silver butterfly pin. Her blue eyes held curiosity while her expression showed nothing.

"Yes...actually," he said aloud, his voice strong and older.

The woman nodded and expected a quick answer, only to receive an awkward silence. "Well...?"

"Oh! Yes, where might the Mona Lisa be?" he asked, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. The woman nodded, walking forward with her head held down, muttering incoherent words under her breath.

The man followed slowly, still admiring the works of art. He was stopped by crashing into her body, and, expecting yelling from her, she only smiled and turned, walking down the long hallways.

He looked after her with a confused look, only to look forward and up the next second. His eyes widened at the sight of the painting. He was astonished by how beautifully it captured the girl and how the paint was carefully put on.

Looking for anyone who might be around, he got to work, pulling off his backpack to shuffle through it. He threw out his crowbar, only bringing it due to thinking the painting would be in a glass case. In all honesty, all the man needed were his black leather gloves.

He turned back to admire the painting one last time, only to fall back at the sudden movement of the girl in it.

He fell on his back, his hand trying to find somewhere to balance himself, only to hit against another painting. He expected to rip through it, but the dark colors melted against his skin, burning his hand. He brought his hand over to his face to look at the paint, only to see his hand back at its natural, tan color. Stupid imagination. He thought, going back to the painting.

Again, the painting morphed and this time the girl's hands wrapped around the golden frame. Her body pushed out, the girl's face falling, her eyes whitening. The man yelled out for help, but the girl's hand reached inside his throat, making him gurgle and choke.

From afar, the woman from earlier watched with a smirk, chuckling slightly as the girl from the painting pulled her hand out covered in guts.

"Poor man, never saw it coming," she said aloud, her soft laughter getting louder as the girl crawled back into the painting, dragging the man's body in with her.