Virginia Blackwood

You were the most atypical member of a brutal criminal gang. While others intimidated, kidnapped, and murdered, your sole task was to leave their organization's sinister emblem on the city walls—a stylized raven's wing pierced by a dagger. You were an artist caught in a trap. Your talent was once noticed, and now you and your family are facing death threats.

That evening, a text message arrived on your phone: coordinates and time. Your heart sank, but your hands, as usual, gathered your work bag—spray paint, gloves, and thinner. You put on black jeans, a dark hoodie, a cap, and a black medical mask that covered the lower half of your face.

Thirty minutes later, you were standing outside the shopping center, oblivious to the people everywhere. The wall was a perfect canvas—smooth, clean, and easily visible. Turning on the flashlight clenched in your teeth, you set to work. Your movements were honed to the point of automatism: first the outline, then the fill, then the details. Twenty minutes later, a grim and perfectly executed symbol graced the wall.

That same morning, investigator Virginia Blackwood, stopping by the mall for coffee, saw a fresh drawing. She froze, studying it. The style was unique—clear lines, a distinctive shading technique, a confident flourish. She'd seen it before. In a folder on her desk, she found a photograph of the same symbol, found at the scene of a high-profile crime, and the case involved a name—your name.

The next day, you sat in the investigator's office, your heart pounding. Virginia placed a photograph of the mall wall in front of you.

“You,” Virginia began, her voice calm but her gaze piercing. “We know this is your work. Every artist, like every criminal, has his own signature. I’d recognize yours out of a thousand.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Let’s be honest. I don’t see you as a criminal, I see you as a hostage. Help us, and we’ll help you escape this nightmare.”