Manticore Was A Painting?

Author's note: A quick two-part introduction for our antagonists and where Kama came from, before getting back to the main story. Expect the next chapter within the next couple of days. Chapters, where Sokoro and Kama aren't the focus, will be written in the third person with a sassy narrator.

Kama flew off with sleepy Sokoro on her back, unaware of the pair of hidden onlookers who had been watching their interaction. With a mixture of helplessness and frustration, the male and female pair, dressed in matching all-black outfits conversed about the situation.

"This eesn't-a good." Said the slender Croatian woman with curly brown hair and a beauty mark on her left cheek.

Her partner, a tall, lean and pretty Italian man with slicked-back blonde hair and sharp green eyes, held his face with both hands in mock surprise,

"Oh ree-ally, Lu-cia? What makes you say that-a?"

Lucia scowled at him, "Sarcasm isn't-a helpfal, Gorgio,"

Giorgio dropped his hands and narrowed his eyes, "Neither was releasing-a the manticore,"

"You told me to get rid of de painting."

"So you threw it into a lake?"

"Maybe if you hadn't-a swerved like a maniac, it k-would have landed in de trees like intended."

"Well, excuse-a me for trying-a to get away from the police-a."

"Emphasis on trrrying. If I didn't-a k-have those smoke bombs on me, we'd-a be in jail rrright now."

"You should-a be in jail for your face-a!"

"You s'ould be in jail for your driving!"

The two partners in apparent crime growled and glared at each other, but who were they and what the hell were they talking about?

For that, we need to go back approximately ten hours prior to the city of Brandy's Museum of Mythology—a museum dedicated to never-before-seen artefacts depicting or representing myths, legends and folklore of civilizations past.

Unsurprisingly, this museum wasn't very popular and was on the verge of closing, until a wealthy enthusiast lent an Ancient Persian miniature painting from his personal collection. The miniature was made available to the public in the Ancient Persia museum section four days ago. It was a painting of a manticore dating back to the 13th Century during Islamic rule of the region. The miniature seemed to be painted in the style of the famed miniature painter of the time, Kamāl ud-Dīn Behzād, though it had no indicator of who the artist was. It was simply called Kāma.

The painting was bizarrely popular, mainly due to its uncanny realism. Kāma had a woman's face on a tiger's head and body, with cinnabar red skin and fur. She had long, white locks of hair and thick brows of the same colour. She had horns like a cape buffalo, a giant scorpion tale and large, bat-like wings. She was facing the viewer, crouched low as if preparing to pounce with her mouth open, revealing her rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Perhaps her popularity could be linked to her eyes that seemed to follow the viewer wherever they went, like the Mona Lisa. Unlike Da Vinci's famed portrait, however, Kāma's large horizon blue eyes were actually moving.

Some thought it was a trick or an illusion, the museum staff didn't even know what it was. The wealthy enthusiast couldn't provide an answer either. He did, however, say that the painting would "leak" sometimes.

"Leak?" The curator asked.

"Yes," said the enthusiast, "Usually when there are lots of people. It's almost like... she's drooling at the sight of so much fresh meat." He then burst out laughing, "Don't know how they did it, but it makes for quite the spectacle! Annoying to clean up though. Either way, it's yours for a time. Take care of it,"

That was that. The museum had now seen more visitors than ever, including our mysterious duo. 

They were dressed as art students, complete with authentic-looking student cards. They stood in the middle of the crowd, gradually getting closer to the exhibit which was kept behind glass. As expected, the painting was leaking. The duo subtly looked at each other before pulling out cans of potato soup from their bags and throwing the contents onto the glass protecting the painting. 

They then proceeded to slap their hands against the walls on either side of the miniature.

“This is an intervention!” Giorgio yelled with pastoral passion, “Look outside this building-a! Look at this very street. People are starving. Children are out in the cold, never knowing warmth or a full meal. Yet here you are, spending-a money to look at an old picture of some made-up monster, from a long-dead empire? Shame on you!”

Lucia chimed in, with far less confidence, “W-We are here to make a statement-a. We will be staying until-”

“WE WILL BE STUCK TO THIS WALL UNTIL THIS MUSEUM IS TURNED INTO A SHELTER!!!” Giorgio interjected, earning a quick side-eye from Lucia. 

"Security!" Screamed the curator. The duo were quickly grabbed and thrown out of the building by the guards, who commented that their hands weren’t even stuck to the paintings.

Lucia pulled back her sleeve and looked at the device around her wrist which flashed green,

“Confirmed,” She said, “The artefact ees supernatural,”

Giorgio rubbed his sore head, “Good thing we got it before you blew our cover,”

“Me?!” Lucia snapped back, “What about-a your over-the-top performance?”

Giorgio shook his head in disappointment, “The goal was to shock and confuse-a them. My performance kept them at bay long enough for you to scan the miniature. All you had to do was stand there and look pretty… for once,”

She sharply retorted, “Maybe they were just awustruck at the sheer size of your head,” 

They glared at each other, before standing up, dusting themselves off and crossing the street to the nearby park. In a secluded area of the park, they found a large unmarked truck and entered the back to see a high-tech workspace. They walked up to the giant screen,

“Special Agent G7, calling in!” Giorgio announced. Lucia followed suit,

“Agent-a L40, calling in!”

The deep, robotic voice of the handler came through, “Greetings, Special Agent G7, Agent L40. What have you found?”

“Possible entity witheen-a mini-ature painting of a female manticore from ancient Persia.” Explained Lucia, “T'e artwork is currently housed-a in de Museum of Mythology in a city called Brandy for a limeeted time. T're-at level is low in its current state.”

“Security?”

“Minimal,” Giorgio declared, “The place is short on staff and cameras. We should be in and out-a without issue.”

“You’re certain?”

Lucia tried to speak, “Well, the painting came from-a wealthy contributor so t'ere’s a chance-”

“That he’ll sue-a this place into the ground, boot that isn’t our concern,” Giorgio interjected.

“No that’s not-”

“This’ll be a cakewalk. We’ll just need an extraction point,”

“Very well, one will be sent to you as soon as the entity is secure.”

“Understood-a,” Giorgio signed off.

“Cakewalk?” Lucia asked, “You seriously think a rich man weeth a painting-a that old and rare wouldn’t have measures to keep it safe-a from t'eft?”

“The first measure-a would have been to not give it to that crappy museum. Rich-a people are stupid,”

“I think you’re projecting-a,”

“I think-a you’re annoying and that you worry too much-a.” He walks over to a set of black full-body suits and equipment on his left, “Like I said-a, we get in-a, grab the painting and get out-a. The longer that thing stays in circulation the greater chance of whatever is inside breaking out-a and killing somebody.”

Lucia wanted to argue, but she couldn't,  

"You're… right,"

"Of course I am-a," He said before plopping down on the chair. He crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head, "This is-a going to be the easiest mission ever,"

As established, it was not.