He Skinned Me Like a Trophy, Then Became Obsessed with My Doppelganger

Everyone in the city’s most powerful circles knew Julian Sterling was obsessed with my skin, pristine as moonlight.

He even splurged a fortune to build a suspended crystal palace, just so he could sketch the most exquisite artworks on my body as dusk bled into night.

He called me his greatest living masterpiece.

But masterpieces, once touched by the mundane, become flawed.

So, in the inferno that consumed his entire art gallery, he chose to salvage the cold canvases, leaving me to burn in the flames.