It dripped down the walls slowly, the colour gradually covering the whole surface. She stood back and admired her handiwork. It had taken a while, but soon it would be complete. Glistening as it dried, it looked as though it was filled with diamonds. Washing her hands was a long process, but she wanted to be thorough. She couldn’t leave any of it on her. Blood soaked walls drying, she looked over to the corner. Now what was she going to do with the body of the person who had told her she’d “missed a spot” after painting all weekend?