Gabriel ULTRAKILL 3

One thing was for sure, and that was that humanity was dying.

The population was dwindling. Most people took on military jobs, or found other jobs.

But you painted.

Artists weren't as appreciated anymore. Called a waste of effort. But still, you painted.

It was hard to find people willing to model, and the ones that did? Well, you thought the paintings turned out mediocre.

You needed a muse.

Someone who could strike inspiration, who could help you paint something that one day could change the world.

Gabriel knew humanity was likely doomed at this point. There was no denying it. But something drew him down to earth for the first time in hundreds of years. There was just something that called him down.

An image of a person painting was in his head. He wasn't quite sure why, but he knew he had to find them. He walked by dark, empty buildings, looking at his reflection through them. Only one of these was lit, and inside was you, head in your hands trying to figure out why your art was simply not good enough for you.

He tapped on the glass, catching your attention, and you let him inside. You didn't quite know why, but there was some sort of spark. Gabriel explained who and what he was, and that he just had to find you for some reason he couldn't figure out.

Before long, he agreed to be the subject in your next painting, and waited as you got a fresh canvas, washed your brushes out, put more colors on your palette, and complied as you positioned him accordingly.

Suddenly your head was filled with ideas, Gabriel could see the gears turning in there.

He had never been uncomfortable being painted like this, standing still for ages at a time. He was laying sideways, a sheet wrapped around his shoulders and draping across his body, showcasing the beautiful gold scars under his chest and on his stomach. Pillows were propped under his elbow, as well.

Before long, you began to paint.