Max was compassing to the place where he would start a new project. He was new to the city, but his expertise as a home restorer had allowed him to gain a good clientele in a short time. The property he was heading to was on the outskirts of town and surrounded by slightly swampy terrain.

“That house must have a big moisture problem,” he thought to himself when he saw the house from the road.

As he got closer, he could see that he was right. The walls were covered in mold and cobwebs, and the smell of damp earth thickened the air. Max’s heart began to race, and at one point he hesitated to go ahead, but the contract was very lucrative, and Max had always been very ambitious.

He noticed that the door was open, so he covered his nose a bit and came in to see what condition the house was in. The windows were covered, so it was completely dark inside.

He heard a click, and then a light came on revealing a painting with the image of Medusa. Max became panicky because he knew what it meant, backed up, and when he step on a false board, he fell into some kind of trap.

“Hello Max, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” said a man sitting behind a desk that Max could make out thanks to a lamp that illuminated the man.

“Do you know what day it is today, Max?” The man continued with a calm voice, but Max didn’t answer. He was in shock.

“The day you’re going to tell me where you hid the Caravaggio we stole,” the man said.

Max, almost unable to articulate a word, said:

“I… I… don’t have it!”

“Oh, yes, you have it, and you are going to give it to me!” responded the mysterious man

“Yeah… I already handed it over…” Max answered, making an effort since he already had shortness of breath and his face was bluish.

“Don’t tell me!” replied the man in a mocking tone, and added, “And who did you give it to?”

“To…to…to the boss!” Max answered, showing him his right hand with one finger less as he fell to the ground, lifeless.