Life Imitates Art
Written by TwistedSnakes
Illustrated by JackalLabs
E-reader link (Mobile-friendly, themes, EPUB and PDF format)
Moonlight shimmered through the many glass windows that lined the studio wall, bathing the high-ceilinged room in its soft blue glow. Harmonising with the navy hues were the yellow lights of two lamps, each one mounted on a slanted drawing desk. One was empty, but a white wolf was seated at the other one, fervently scribbling away on a sheet of paper.
Scratching could be heard as the graphite left its dark grey marks in the form of swift strokes. After a few minutes, the wolf put the pencil down and sat back, considering the sketch with his artistic gaze. He frowned, then swiped the paper aside. It slid off the desk and fell to the floor, joining more sheets of doodle-covered papers. The scratching resumed as the artist resumed sketching.
A lizard entered the studio, holding a cup in his hand. He went up to the empty desk but didn't sit down. Instead, he took a sip from his cup.
"Coffee?" the wolf asked without taking his eyes off the paper.
"It's cold," the lizard replied.
"Oh?"
"I fell asleep waiting for the coffee machine."
"You can always brew another cup." The wolf chuckled.
"And fall asleep again? Nah man, we have work to do."
"You can head to bed, you know. There's nothing much you can do until I come up with the idea."
"Hey! Don't put it like that." The lizard looked hurt. "It's not my fault you're the ideas guy."
"Huh?" The wolf paused. "Wait, no, that's not what I meant. Look, my ideas are nothing until they become reality. You're amazing at doing that, you know? I really appreciate you for it."
"Yeah?" The lizard smiled.
The wolf nodded, returning the grin before resuming his sketching. The lizard bent down and picked up a few sketches on the ground.
"Oh, these are fantastic."
"Which ones?"
"There's this hanging arrangement of glass crystals intertwined with fake muscle tissues. Very dramatic. Then there's a tree with its branches embracing a giant heart, veins and all."
"Oswald won't like it. He rejected the other proposals."
"Eh, what would an old man like him know about real art?"
"I don't know, maybe it's because he's the manager of the Noble Museum of Living Biology?"
"It's no art museum." The lizard shrugged.
"Yeah, but if he doesn't approve the commission, we don't get paid."
"Ah, the universal bane of the artist." The lizard rolled his eyes. "Oh heavens, I beseech thee, free us from the chains that tether our creative souls to the practicalities of this mortal realm.
"Go to bed." The wolf chuckled. "Aren't you tired?"
Careful not to step on the sketches, the lizard walked behind the wolf and slid his arms around the canine's neck.
"Yeah, but how can I sleep easy while my favourite artist slaves away at the desk at 3 in the morning?"
"It'll be easier to focus if you're not distracting me."
"Ah, fine."
"The camping bed is in the corner."
The lizard retrieved the contraption of metal poles and canvas and put it down behind the wolf. Fiddling with the joints, he unfolded it to form a bed. The stretched canvas wasn't as comfortable as a mattress, but it would do. He went back to the corner to take a pillow and a folded blanket out of a plastic bag, setting them down on the makeshift bed.
"I'm just lying down. I'll still be awake to accompany you, so just call out if you need me."
The wolf nodded. The room was silent except for the scratching of the pencil. Sketch after sketch fell to the floor. The moon retreated as the early rays of the sun started streaming through the windows.
"This is it."
The wolf stared at his newest draft.
"This... this is it." He grinned. "Jarren, come look at this. Jarren?"
He turned around to see the lizard fast asleep. The slumbering reptile let out a snort and rubbed his nose, before snoring again.
The wolf gave a tired smile. He picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and tucked the lizard in.
"Decro? You done?" The lizard mumbled with his eyes closed. "Decro?"
"You're awake?"
"Of course. The waiter is here. Help me order the tenderloin steak and the... mnfgn..." He started snoring again.
"Will do, will do."
The wolf stood up and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. He was heading out of the studio door when he paused and turned around. The lizard was still peacefully asleep. The wolf sighed. He put down his bag and took a second camping bed from the corner, setting it up beside the lizard.
"Good night Jarron." He laid down on the bed.
"Mmm... 'nights." The lizard mumbled.
As the sun bathed the studio in gold, its warmth washed over the two sleeping artists.
"Forget it." The stag stood up and left the meeting room. "This is a waste of time.
Decro and Jarron picked up their bags and rushed into the corridor after him.
"Sir, please," the lizard caught up with him, making two strides for every one of the stag's. "It'll just take a minute."
"I don't like this idea. You two have been coming up with uninspired--"
"Mr Oswald, give us a chance to explain this," the lizard pleaded. He opened the leather folder, revealing pages of sketches and diagrams.
"It's just a statue of a floating person," the stag grumbled.
"No, no. A real person will be in there."
The stag stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Jarron with a raised brow. "What, so this is life-sized?"
"Yeah."
"And there's going to be a person, living and breathing, in the glass?"
"Resin. And yes, alive."
"How?"
"The person will be hooked up to tubes for air and food. He will be on a liquid diet, so the only waste is urine, which will be drained away with another tube."
"That sounds unsightly."
"Not at all, Mr Oswald." The lizard grinned as he picked up his pitch. "The tubes are transparent, so they are practically invisible in the resin."
"Okay..."
"He'll only be in there for the two-week Miracle of Life exhibition. His vitals will also be monitored remotely, both for safety and as part of the art display. For instance, his pulse can be replayed through speakers in the room, and--"
"Shut up and give me a second to think."
Museum staff nervously skirted around the trio as they passed them in the corridor. Decro and Jarron waited.
"Fine. I'll let you make the installation. Central Hall. Talk to my secretary for negotiations and logistics."
The stag stormed off.
"Did he not like the idea?" the wolf frowned.
"Are you kidding?" Jarron turned to him. "He gave us Central Hall. It'll be the first thing people see when they come in. He loved it!"
"Really?"
"Heck yeah. Let's bring your idea to life."
"I'm hungry." Decro slumped on his studio desk and grumbled.
Jarron looked up from his laptop. "Was there not enough for lunch? We can increase--"
"Nah, it's just the liquid diet. My body still thinks it's starving because my stomach has been empty for days. It's not like I feel weak or anything, so I think it's fine. I just need to get used to it."
"Tell me if you need anything, alright?"
"You should focus on the logistics. I can take care of myself. I appreciate it though, really."
The lizard nodded. He went back to typing on his laptop, only to pause again.
"Well..."
"Yeah?"
"You don't have to do this, you know? We can hire someone to be the installation."
"I can see the ad now. 'Hiring for a gig. Must be willing to be a statue for 2 weeks.' I'm sure that will go well." The wolf chuckled.
"I'm sure there are people on bondage forums who would pay us to be--"
"Instant veto."
"Fine."
Jarron pondered for a while.
"I could be the installation."
"We've discussed this before. You're the architect of this project. You know how to do all the setup, the casting, everything. Me? I'm just the ideas guy."
"I could teach you. It's not that difficult to--"
"And what, put your life into my clumsy hands?"
"I trust--"
"This is dangerous. Something could go wrong. The tubes could get twisted, the life-support machine could fail. You could get hurt or even die."
"What about me? What if I mess up and injure you?"
"You're smart. If there's anyone I trust with my life, it's you."
Jarron blushed.
"I'll make sure you're safe. There'll be a lot of safety features on the life-support device as well as a backup generator in case of a blackout. If all else fails, there'll be a chisel and hammer nearby that we'll use to smash the resin and get you out."
"See? That's why I have full confidence in you."
"Thanks." The lizard scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "It means a lot to me."
The room was silent except for the hum of the studio's air conditioning as it eased the warm heat of the afternoon sun.
"Why don't you get some rest? You did a lot for the project. Let me take it from here."
"I'm good. Besides, I'll have a lot of time to sleep."
"Hmm?"
"Two weeks is a long time."
Decro sat on the edge of the camping bed. There were two tubes fitted in his nostrils. One of them was a feeding tube, extending into his stomach so he could be fed a liquid diet. The other tube was for air; it was attached to a valve with two more tubes attached. One air tube was for the intake of humidified oxygen, the other for the outflow of carbon dioxide.
The wolf shifted uneasily. The nasal tubes were uncomfortable. It felt like his nostrils were stuffed with wads of tissue paper all the way down his throat. He clenched his throat muscles, feeling the tubes shift within him. They felt intrusive and violating, and the wolf hated the sensations.
Jarron entered the studio holding a white cardboard box.
"Let's get your catheter fitted?"
"Mmm."
"Take off your pants."
The wolf took off his pants and underwear and sat on the side of the bed.
"Ready?"
"Mmm."
"Not in a talkative mood?"
"Tubes hurt."
"Yeah. The nurse says you should get used to them in a few hours."
"Mmm."
Jarron brought a bucket over to the wolf, positioning the bucket between them before sitting down beside the wolf.
"Bucket?"
"For your piss."
Decro frowned.
"The catheter will let it out, whether you like it or not."
"Mmm."
The lizard tore the seal on the cardboard box and put on the surgical latex gloves inside. With his free hand, he pressed his fingers on either side of the wolf's sheath. He pushed the folds of skin aside, revealing the pink tip of the canine's manhood. With a damp cloth, he wiped the red rocket clean, getting the area beneath the furry sheath.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like a medical manikin."
Jarron chuckled at the imagery. "Does that make me a doctor, then?"
"Only a trainee."
"Fine." The lizard chuckled.
He took out the transparent catheter from the box and removed its plastic wrapper. With a tube of surgical lubricant, he generously coated the end of the catheter. Holding the catheter in one hand, he used his free hand to comb the wolf's fur aside to expose the tip of his urethra. He pushed the tube against it.
"Breathe in."
He inserted the tip of the catheter into the slit.
"Oww!"
"Relax, it's going in."
"Oww, oww. Wait, please stop."
Jarron stopped. "What's the matter?"
"Hurts."
"Is it sharp? Or aching."
"Pinching."
"That's normal for a catheter. Can you endure the pain?"
The wolf looked around nervously.
"Okay. Grab my arm. Just squeeze to release the pain, okay? We'll do this together."
Decro nodded. Jarron pushed the tube deeper down the slit. The wolf's claws were digging into his skin. He winced.
"Come on, you can do this."
"Mmm!"
He added more lube to help ease the tube further into the urethral tract, then pushed it further. The wolf squirmed and shifted his hips.
"Try not to move. We're halfway there."
The wolf's grip was firm but warm. Jarron blushed. Despite the sharp claws pressing into his arm, it felt good to have Decro leaning on him. Relying on him. He carefully guided the tube deeper into the wolf.
"Almost, almost."
A stream of clear urine dribbled down the tube and into the bucket.
"Not yet. Just a bit deeper."
Jarron pushed the tube further in so the end of the tube would sit snugly inside Decro's bladder.
"And done."
The wolf let go and opened his eyes. He looked at the catheter sticking out of his member as his liquid waste was drained away. The stream turned into a dribble, eventually coming to a stop. Jarron wiped the end of the tube.
"Got to make sure it doesn't slip out." He attached a surgical tape to where the catheter emerged from Decro's urethral slit. "And we're done."
"Sorry," the wolf mumbled.
"Hey, hey. This is normal, okay? Nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone with a tube down their bladder is going to piss themselves silly. You're fine."
Decro nodded. Jarron hugged him.
"You're just tired after the trip to the hospital. You've been really brave. I'm proud of you."
The wolf hugged back.
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
They released each other.
"What's next?"
"I'll need you to sleep here tonight. I'll hook you up to the life-support machine so we can test it overnight. And don't worry, I'll be here too."
Decro nodded. "So what's for dinner?"
"Take a guess."
"Hmm, what could it be? I'm thinking... a feeding bag full of nutrient solution?"
"How'd you guess? Are you psychic?"
The two artists chuckled, then fell silent.
"You look nervous."
"I am."
"You'll be fine." Jarron reached out and squeezed the wolf's hand. "You'll make a breathtaking art display."
"An art display, eh?"
"Only the greatest masterpiece the world has ever seen."
The studio looked like the laboratory of a mad scientist when Decro entered. In the middle of the room was a cylindrical column made of four curved plexiglass walls. One of its walls was mounted on hinges like a door. The entire thing was mounted on a steel frame that lifted it two steps off the ground. It reminded Decro of a sci-fi containment tank for test subjects. Beside it were two large screens with vital sign metrics on display, all of them with readings of zero.
"Decro! You're here!" Jarron came over with a grin.
"Where else would I be?"
"Well. To be honest, I was secretly afraid you'd chicken out and not show up."
"I wouldn't do that to you."
"Aww. Thanks."
Decro adjusted the tubes sticking out of his nose. He had tucked them into the neck of his hoodie so it wouldn't dangle about on the way to the studio.
"So I'm going to be suspended in that tank while you pour resin in?"
"Not quite."
The lizard guided him over to a plywood box on the floor. Lengthwise, it was slightly taller than Decro, and its width was slightly shorter than his arm span. Its four walls were just high enough to reach his knees. It was filled up a quarter of the way with resin, already cured into a solid transparent block.
"You'll be lying in this box while I cast you in the resin, forming a solid block. This makes it easier to pose you. After that, I get you out, buff the surface, then cast you a second time in the column for the final composition."
"Makes sense. Are we... doing it now?"
"If you don't mind. The process will take about 18 hours. Cast, cure, polish, cast, cure. You get the idea."
"We can start now. I don't want to keep you up."
"Let's go then." The lizard clapped his hands together. "Take off your shirt, please. And pants too, while you're at it."
Decro stripped down to his bare fur and folded his clothes in a neat stack. The nasal tubes and catheter dangled in the air without his clothes for support. While waiting for the wolf, Jarron picked up a tiny circular device on a table covered with electronics.
"Hold out your hand with your palm facing up."
"Which hand?"
"Either works. You won't be using your hands, anyway."
The wolf stretched out his hand. Jarron brushed aside the fur on the wolf's forearm, looking for the thickest blood vessel.
"Needle incoming."
He uncapped a needle that was attached to the device by a white tube and plunged it into a dull blue vein. Within seconds, the numbers on the screens changed. Decro's heart rate was reflected on the electrocardiogram, its red line pulsing up and down with the beating of his heart. Other numbers indicated his breathing rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, and more.
"Whoa, is it monitoring all my vitals?"
"Yeah. It's communicating with the life-support machine so it can adjust your intake levels accordingly."
"And if it runs out of power?
"There's a thermoelectric generator. Body heat, basically. There's also a backup battery, just in case. Overkill for just two weeks, but safety first."
Decro nodded. "How do we hide it?"
Jarron centred the device in the wolf's palm. "Close your hand."
The canine complied, and the device's white casing camouflaged perfectly in his snowy fur. He turned his hand around, examining it from all angles.
"Looks good."
He waited for the lizard's next instruction.
"Well?"
"Oh, right." Jarron caught himself staring at Decro's body. "Okay, I'll need you to sit on the resin block. Give me a second."
With a screwdriver, the lizard pried the lid off a metal tin. A chemical smell filled the air.
"What's that for?"
"It's a sealant gum. I'll paint it over your eyes, nose, and so on to prevent resin from getting in. Don't worry, it'll peel right off when we get you out."
Jarron picked up a small brush and painted the clear, viscous liquid over Decro's nostrils. He formed an airtight seal over the tubes as he applied a generous layer of sealant over the wolf's snout. The wolf could feel a bit of resistance as his breaths were forced through the narrow breathing tubes.
"Close your eyes. Not so tight, or you'll look like you're in pain when it sets."
The wolf channeled his inner peace, closing his eyes and letting his facial features ease into a relaxed expression. Sealant was brushed over his eyelids, with the excess dripping down his cheeks. He shivered. It was cold.
"Doing alright?"
"Yeah."
"I'll just apply a second layer, just in case."
Decro's world was reduced to an endless void of darkness. He could hear the hum of the air conditioner. He could feel the cool resin beneath him. He could smell the caustic smell of the sealant as it was applied. Beyond those limited sensations, there was nothing. He shivered again. This time it wasn't from the cold.
"Your ears are next. I'll leave your mouth for last so you can still talk for now."
Jarron applied more of the viscous liquid to the outside of the wolf's ear canals. The sounds of the outside world were immediately muted, leaving behind the vacuum of deafening silence.
"Is this alright? I want to seal your ears without it dripping down the ear canal." The lizard's voice was slightly muffled.
"It's fine."
"Okay. Your sheath is next."
Decro was grateful for the warning. Without his sight to see what was going on, the brushing of cold sealant over his sensitive parts would've been quite the shock. He let the lizard seal the catheter to his urethral slit.
"Any last words?"
Decro sneered. "Just get me out once the exhibition is over."
"Aww, someone's uptight."
"I'm just nervous."
"Nervous? I'll be the one having to talk to the museum guests every day while you spend all that time sleeping."
"You wouldn't be naked, though."
"Fair. Well, you'll do fine."
The lizard pulled Decro into a tight embrace.
"I'll keep you safe. Don't be lonely, alright?"
"Don't want to think about it."
"Okay, okay. Let's get it done and over with. Close your mouth."
The wolf kept his jaws shut as his lips were sealed together. After a few minutes, Jarron touched the shiny gum, making sure it was dry.
"Alright. Let's get you into the fetal position."
Decro could feel the lizard's hands supporting him as he laid down on his side. The resin beneath him was cold and unyielding. He bent forward, bringing his forearms together in front of his face. The vital monitor was closed in his fist. He tucked his legs close to his body and curled his tail in.
"Looks good. Let me adjust your pose a little."
The lizard moved his hands, offsetting them so one was lower than the other. Decro's left leg was adjusted downwards too, so his toes were pointed down.
"Lift your head."
A block of resin was placed below Decro's head, so it wasn't tilted to the side when he was positioned vertically. More blocks were placed below his arms and legs to balance out his posture.
"Okay. You look great. Hold the pose. Let me hook you up to the machine."
Decro could feel the tubes being guided to the bottom of the mould. There was the sound of a switch flicking, and oxygen was pumped into his lungs.
"Is it working?"
"Mmm."
"I'll do a test feeding too."
The wolf felt the other tube shudder in his nose, followed by the familiar sensation of the liquid diet filling his stomach. The flow was then stopped.
"Looks good. I'll go mix the resin, then."
The wolf could hear plastic buckets being moved around, followed by the flowing of liquid as the resin and hardener was poured out into the bucket. There was the whirring of a drill mixer, then silence.
"Erm, Decro?"
"Mmm?"
"I was... uh... well... I mean... Look, I'll be pouring the resin now. Don't move, okay? I'll see you in two weeks."
"Mmm."
The stream of thick resin hit his shoulders and spilled over his body. His white fur soaked up the warm, viscous liquid. The resin level pooled around the bottom of the mould, slowly rising as more was poured into the tank. As the support blocks were submerged, their transparent outlines forms appeared to meld with the resin due to their similar refractive indices. The resin stopped just under his left pectoral. He could feel the viscous liquid being swirled around him.
"I'm stirring the resin a little so your fur gives the illusion of floating."
Decro didn't respond in case his movement would mess with the curing resin. There was a whirring sound as more resin was mixed in the bucket. Then it was poured over him until it reached the middle of his chest. There was the stirring again.
The process was repeated. The resin was covering half his face and his legs. Then it rose over his eyes, followed by the rest of his head. His shoulder was the last part of him that was still exposed, but even that was soon submerged in the sea of epoxy.
There was the sound of garbled words. The lizard was speaking, but it was like trying to make out words from underwater. It was too distorted to comprehend. The resin started heating around him. Jarron must've been getting out the heat lamps to make the epoxy cure faster.
Decro also had to fight the temptation to fall asleep. With the warmth of his resin bath and the boredom of darkness, his body was in a conducive environment to doze off. However, if he moved in his sleep, he would destroy Jarron's efforts to set this up. He needed to distract himself.
He started thinking of more concepts for future art installations. There was going to be an exhibition at the Gallery of the Visual Arts in four months' time. He brainstormed some ideas for new installations that could be put on sale at the exhibition. A mixed-media painting with acrylic paint and baby shoes glued to the canvas, to represent how personal growth increased the depth of one's worldview. Then he would sew together a dress made from old clothes that were fashionable a long time ago, for a nostalgia-inducing piece. Oh, and he could do one more with a giant hourglass filled with printed social media posts that went viral over the past decades.
The ideas swam in his head, but they had nowhere to go. He was itching to bring the ideas to life. Trying not to move was taking its toll on him. He wanted to pace about the studio to ponder his ideas. He wanted to pick up a pencil and sketch the concepts out. He wanted to dig his hands into raw material and build something new. Something that would evoke deep thoughts and powerful emotions. Something that would change the world.
He tensed the muscles in his fingers, quelling the urge to twitch. If he could sigh into his breathing tube, he would've, but even that wasn't an option now. He needed something else to do.
- 2. 3.
The wolf began counting in his mind to while the time away.
- 15. 16. 17. 18.
Counting let him centre himself, easing his mind and body into a relaxed state.
...
- 294. 295.
He was making progress, slow but steady. He needed to wait for the resin to cure.
...
- 740. 741.
Decro was craving a distraction. Each time his mind wandered to something else, he struggled to bring it back to counting. The resin around his chest was tightening, making it harder to breathe. Focus, focus. Just keep counting.
...
- 1615. 1616.
Every breath was laboured. The resin was almost solid. Decro felt short of breath, but he knew it was in his mind. The life-support machine was now his artificial lungs, pumping air into his chest, then gently sucking it away. He needed to get accustomed to not breathing.
...
- 24328. 24329.
Decro gave up on counting. The epoxy was already hard, so there was no danger of him ruining the resin cast by accidentally moving. But it'd still need a few more hours to cure before Jarron could remove it from the mould. By his estimation, he was 7, maybe 8 hours into the curing process; about 5 more hours to go. But he was tired from trying to keep still but awake. He let the warmth of the infrared lamps lull him to sleep.
There was a deafening crack as his world shook. Decro jolted awake, only to panic as he realised he couldn't move.
Right. The resin block.
He felt a thud, then there was another cracking sound. Jarron was breaking him out of the mould. Decro steeled himself for two more cracks as remaining walls were pried off the resin block. Then his body was lifted into an upright position. His heart lurched as he felt the block almost tip over the other side, before landing on its base. The wolf was now suspended vertically in the resin. The wooden base of the resin mould was pried off.
There was a whirring sound, then his block began vibrating. It felt like multiple dentist drills were pressing into his skull, his chest, his teeth, grating against his bones with their high-frequency revolutions. And it was loud. So, very loud. He tensed his muscles. It felt horrible, but he had to endure this ordeal. He needed to do this for him, for Jarron. This was his creation, the vessel in which he had poured his artistic soul into. This temporary torment was nothing.
An eternity passed when the whirring finally stopped. The resin block was shifted about, then it began swinging from side to side. Decro let out a yelp from the back of his throat, feeling the feeding tube shift within him.
Calm down, calm down.
- 2. 3. 4. 5.
He counted. There must be an explanation for the swinging. He could feel the resin block being lifted higher into the air. If it dropped onto the ground, the resin would smash. His body would be torn apart in the shattering resin. He didn't want to die.
Focus, focus, focus.
Right. Jarron mentioned it earlier, he would be recast in a resin column. The swinging was because the lizard was using a crane to get him into the cylindrical mould. Right, right. Nothing to worry about. The crane lowered him, stopping short of reaching the ground. Decro swung side to side, gradually losing momentum as his resin block came to a slow halt.
He waited for the resin to be poured. Jarron would need to prepare more resin to fill the column. That would take some time. But the hard part was over, and all he had to do was wait patiently until--
The airflow to his lungs stopped.
Huh?!
What happened? Did the life-support fail? Decro struggled to breathe, but the tube was too long, too narrow, and his chest had no space to expand in the resin. He could feel the tightness in his chest as he grappled for oxygen.
What was happening?
Shouldn't there be a backup generator to keep the pump running? Or maybe something was jamming the pump's air intake, so it couldn't circulate the air, even with the backup generator. Where was Jarron? It was probably already nighttime. He might've been too sleepy. He might've made a mistake.
His chest was burning. He was going to die here, encased in this resin block.
Jarron, what's happening?
Jarron was in the cylindrical mould, fumbling with the clear tubes. He had unplugged them from the life-support device and was now trying to thread them through holes in the base of the cylindrical mould. The heart rate monitor was beeping frantically; the wolf was panicking.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
"You'll be fine," the lizard mumbled, wishing Decro could somehow hear him. He should've thought of setting up a method of communication. He could've hidden a bluetooth headset in the wolf's ear. He could've set up a microphone near the wolf's mouth so he could communicate with grunts. It was a little too late for that.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The lizard threaded the tubes through the three holes and stepped off the platform. He hastily crawled beneath the platform, found the ends of the life-support tubes, then pulled them out. Air tube to the ventilation connector. Feeding tube to the liquid pump. Catheter to the waste outlet. He flicked the machine on.
Decro's pulse fell as he could breathe again. Jarron sighed in relief. He hadn't realised he had been holding his breath, too. He went back to the crane controls and lowered the resin-encased wolf inch by inch. Each time, he crawled beneath the platform to pull the tubes further through the holes. He couldn't risk crushing the tubes with the resin block.
The tedious back-and-forth went on until the wolf was finally lowered to the base of the mould. Jarron wiped the sweat off his brow. Now to get the mould ready for casting. He picked up a caulking gun and crawled beneath the mould again. With the gun, he squeezed a thread of silicone to seal the gaps between the holes and tubes. This would prevent the resin from leaking. Jarron swung the plexiglass door close to reform the cylindrical mould, then caulked the gaps shut with more sealant. The mould was ready.
"Ugh, finally."
The lizard threw his head back in relief. He looked at the clock; it was 2 in the morning. The process had taken more time than he expected, but this was the home stretch. Now to fill the cylinder with resin.
Decro calmed down as he could breathe again. See? Jarron had it all under control. He felt himself descend bit by bit until his resin block was lowered to the ground. The ambient sounds of the outside world got fainter. He was being encased in more resin, then bathed once more in the heat of the infrared lamps.
The wolf felt silly for panicking. The lizard would never put him in danger. Everything was fine. The resin would take three days to cure, just in time for the exhibition. It would just be another day in an art gallery, except this time he would be on the other side of the experience. After the two weeks, he would be freed.
He couldn't wait to find out the reception to his display, but he would have to be patient.
Two weeks.
Just two weeks.
Jarron got off the camping bed. It was way past midnight, and he couldn't sleep. He hadn't left the studio for three days; he even had his meals delivered to the studio's doorstep so he didn't have to leave Decro's side.
He paced around the studio. In a few hours, Decro would be transported by truck over to the Noble Museum to be installed. The museum would open the doors to its visitors, who would admire, critique, discuss, and reflect on the wolf's frozen form. The lizard was feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.
The lizard looked at the resin column in the centre of the room. He had installed an ornamental marble capital at the top of the column, and a stone base to match. Lights embedded in the capital and base illuminated the curled-up form of the floating wolf. The life-support device was concealed within the base, obscuring the means used to keep the wolf alive.
Decro was huddled in the resin with a serene expression on his face. Was he awake? Jarron looked at the heart monitor. 50 BPM indicated he was probably asleep. The lizard sighed. He reached out and pressed his hand against the resin column. It was cool and smooth beneath his skin.
"Decro. I've been meaning to ask you out so many times. Every morning before we start work, I want to ask you out on a lunch date. Every night as we wrap up a successful art exhibition, I want to take you out on a dinner date to celebrate. Even before I poured the resin, I promised myself I'd finally tell you. But each time, I chicken out before the words leave my lips."
The wolf's pulse was still steady. Through the thick layer of resin, Jarron's voice was too faint to wake the slumbering canine. That thought gave the lizard the confidence to continue his confession.
"But I don't want to wait anymore. I can't let life pass me by while I'm too cowardly to act. I can't let opportunities slip through my fingers. I can't lose you."
Jarron bit his lower lip.
"After this exhibition, I promise, I promise to ask you out on that date. For real." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I love you, Decro."
He let his hand down. It felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. As daybreak crept closer, he got onto the camping bed and fell into a peaceful sleep.
Decro woke up to the shifting of his resin column. He was being lifted, then lowered back down. Probably onto a trolley, because he was vibrating at a steady pace as he was wheeled out. He was raised once more, then assaulted by stronger vibrations.
They were transporting him on a truck. The column clattered and shuddered as the vehicle made the journey to the museum. Every rattle and jolt was a shock wave passing through the resin, shaking him to the core. Decro clenched his muscles and endured the ride.
The shaking stopped. He was lifted again. Moved elsewhere. Then he was set down once more. They didn't move him again. He must be in the museum.
This was it.
This was Central Hall.
The Central Hall was bathed in soft, blue lights. The steady throb of a beating heart played through the speakers throughout the room. In the middle of the room was a tall resin column. From its base and capital, orange lights illuminated the curled-up form of a wolf within the clear epoxy.
People walked around the hall, examining the wolf from all angles. Amongst the crowd was a lizard dressed in a suit and tie, enthusiastically answering the questions that the museum's visitors were throwing at him.
"What is the inspiration for this exhibit?"
"The artist wanted to capture the atmosphere of a mother's womb. Peace, warmth, safety. This is all reflected in the wolf's tranquil expression as he takes the fetal position."
"What's this exhibit called?"
"It's called 'Life Imitates Art'. Very apt, because in this piece, the person within functions as art, which in turn imitates the miracle of life."
"Wait, is that an actual wolf inside?"
"Yes. That's the artist."
"He's alive in there?"
"Also yes. In fact, the heartbeat you're hearing on the speakers is his."
"Whoa."
"But don't worry. We'll take him out after the exhibition."
People came and left, but the crowd was ever-present. Still, Jarron was happy to answer the same questions repeatedly. It was only when the museum closed for the night did he get the chance to rest. He sat down on the floor beside the resin-encased wolf. There was nobody in the hall save for him and the wolf.
"Phew, that was tiring. But I'm really glad that so many people are interested in you. I noticed the number of visitors has been increasing over the past few days. I think they're here just to see you. You really outdid yourself with this concept."
The wolf's steady heartbeat pulsed throughout the room. Jarron could tell the wolf was awake, just that his words would not be comprehensible through the resin. Still, it felt good to voice his thoughts.
"Well, this is the second-to-last day. Tomorrow, after the museum closes, I'll take you back and get you out. Then I'll ask you on that date."
The lizard smiled. He couldn't wait till tomorrow.
Decro woke up. His mind was in a daze. The lack of stimuli was disorienting. He couldn't tell what time it was. He couldn't tell how many days it had been. His mind floated in and out of consciousness so fluidly, it was hard to draw the line between his waking and sleeping moments.
He started counting again. 794593. Or was it 749593? He went with the latter.
- 749594. 749595. 749596. 749--
The resin column jolted. He was being moved. As he shook and shuddered on the transport vehicle, his heart leapt for joy.
He was going home.
He was going to be free.
"Where is he?!"
Jarron's voice was distraught and his expression was hysterical. He moved about in a frenzy, searching the Central Hall where a resin column was missing. A panther was with him, trying unsuccessfully to calm the lizard down.
"I'm sorry but--"
"Where did you take him?!"
"Sir, we didn't move him. Someone must've--"
"Who then?"
"We've already notified the police, and we're checking the security feed. Rest assured, we'll catch the culprit."
Jarron opened his mouth to speak, but he had no retort. He closed his mouth again. His face was contorted in a mix of anger and horror.
"Let's take a seat, alright?" The panther guided Jarron towards a bench and sat him down.
"Oh god, oh god. He's missing. Someone stole him. He's been kidnapped."
"We'll find him."
A bear dashed into the hall.
"Well?" the panther asked.
"Sir, the feed is missing. Someone must've deleted last night's footage."
"What?!"
The lizard jumped to his feet and rambled madly. This time, the panther had no more words of consolation.
"What's all the commotion?"
Jarron turned to look. Oswald stood at the entrance with a frown on his face. The lizard rushed towards the stag, but the panther hastily pulled him into a headlock.
"Where is he?! Where did you take him?!"
Jarron flailed his arms about forcefully. The panther could barely keep him restrained.
"Who's 'he'? What is this madman going on about?"
The bear helped explain the situation. "The resin wolf is gone. Someone probably stole it during the night."
"Call the police then."
"We already did."
"Then what's the big deal? If they find the stolen art, you get it back. If they don't, the museum is covered by insurance--"
"Insurance?!" The lizard was practically foaming at the mouth. His spit flew everywhere as he yelled. "That's my friend! That's my fucking friend!"
"Get him out of my museum." He waved to the security guards. "I don't want to deal with you anymore."
Two burly guards came and grabbed Jarron by the arms. The panther let go of the lizard with a look of relief on his face. Tears were streaming from the lizard's eyes as he kicked his legs about.
"I want him back! Give him back, please!"
As the lizard was taken out of the museum, his screams echoed through Central Hall.
"You did this! You fucking did this! Kidnapper! Psycho! Murderer! I'll make sure you pay! All of you will fucking pay!"
His voice trailed off as the doors closed. The bear looked around nervously before making himself scarce, too.
The panther adjusted his dishevelled tie and jacket. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, sir."
"It's not your fault. This is the last time I work with those crazy artists."
The stag stormed off, leaving the panther standing alone in the empty hall.
The large room was made of white wall panels and a high ceiling. Partition panels were positioned throughout the room, forming row after row of artificial corridors. Paintings hung from the panels in their golden frames, each one illuminated by three lights mounted on a metal track. Red carpets ran down each corridor like streaks of crimson across the black limestone floor.
There were no panels in the central area of the room. Instead, a column stood in the middle with a marble base and capital. It was purely aesthetic, as its top didn't come close to touching the ceiling. However, it excelled greatly in its decorative role. Its shaft was clear resin. Within it floated a depiction of a wolf curled in a fetal position. His fur was white, with streaks of vibrant grey running down his back. Warm orange lights shone from above and below the resin, casting shadows on him in vivid contrast.
If one stood near the wolf and listened with care, one could hear the soft thumping of a beating heart playing through hidden speakers.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump.
The double mahogany doors swung open automatically as a stag strode down the carpet. His gaze never fell upon the paintings; he only had eyes on the resin column. He stood in front of it and examined the wolf's untroubled expression.
"I thought you were magnificent as you stood in the hall of my museum. But now that you're in front of me, I see that you're truly a masterpiece."
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump.
A smile twisted across his lips.
"Have you grown more beautiful now that you're among other treasures like you? Or is my vision tinted by the act of simply having you as my possession?"
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump.
"Perhaps we'll never know."
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump.
"But you know, it feels satisfying having you here. Knowing that I alone can decide where you stand for the rest of your life." He pulled a remote out of his pocket. "I decide if you get to eat. I decide if you get to breathe."
He turned a dial on the remote. At first, nothing appeared to happen. Then the throbbing sounds grew louder, faster, and more frantic.
"I decide if you get to live."
BA-DUM. BA-DUM. BA-DUM. BA-DUM. BA-DUM.
The paintings in the room rattled as the partitions shook.
BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM!
The stag turned the dial back, and the throbbing gradually returned to its faint beats.
"I decide if you get to go free."
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump.
His eyes narrowed in a cruel smirk.
"And this feeling is so satisfying. It wells up from the bottom of my chest, consuming my entire being. It makes me feel powerful. Nothing else in this room gives me the rush that I get from you."
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dump.
"I don't know if it was you or the lizard who came up with the idea for this, but for this gift, I'm eternally grateful. I will treasure this masterpiece. I will take care of it. And I will keep it safe in my gallery forever."
Decro was sure his chest would burst as his lungs screamed for air. Then the flow of air resumed. What was going on? Was there something wrong with the life-support device? As he caught his breath, he cleared his mind and eased the rising panic.
He had been moved out of the museum. He was sure of it. So why hasn't he been freed yet? Well, the museum closed at 6 PM. Maybe Jarron was tired from two weeks of interacting with the museum's visitors, and decided to break him out of the resin tomorrow. After all, it was a delicate job, one that shouldn't be done under the influence of fatigue.
If only he could open his eyes to see where he was.
The feeding tube pumped yet another ration of cold liquid diet into him. He was getting sick of it. It had been so long since he last had warm food in his stomach. He just wanted to get out of his resin prison and have a hearty meal with Jarron. He'll even treat. But he needed to get out first.
Perhaps he was being impatient. Perhaps after he was transported back, his perception of time was warped by his eagerness to be free. Perhaps he had been sitting in the studio for only just one, maybe two hours instead of being trapped in resin for weeks.
Yeah. That was it. He definitely wasn't lying to himself to calm the fear and panic within him. He definitely didn't have any doubts about where he was. And he most definitely didn't feel the unspeakable terror of being encased in resin for the rest of his life.
He could ignore the evidence. He could ignore the fact the life-support machine wouldn't have fed him at least twenty meals over the course of a night. He could ignore the fact that his counting had reached the millions, and was still going. He could ignore the fact that if Jarron was there, he would've released him the moment he got the opportunity, rather than putting it off until the next day.
Yes, Jarron would come and get him out. He would be free. They would go out for dinner together. Experience the world outside for the first time in two weeks. Then he could pour his soul back into his artistic passions.
A tear escaped from the side of his eye.
Jarron would come.
Jarron would come.
~ End ~