The strokes produced by the pencil resonated. Anxious, frenetic, excited, the graphite tip was constantly tracing lines, curves, lines and figures in a precise manner. The room, whose only sign of life was the sound of those lines on the paper, seemed to obscure even the breathing of those who used all their capacity to complete that drawing. Suddenly, the sound stopped... an ecstatic look could be seen in the author of the newly conceived work.

-The new caricature is finished -I murmur as I look at the floor with a childish smile.

Days later, the police found a corpse whose entrails were scattered all over the floor, and next to it, a drawing portraying the same scene.