Krator was falling into the screen. Everyone was attached to devices — it was the dawn of a new day. People were implanted and digitized. Everyone was a star: making videos, chatting, and networking. Adamine went undercover as an artist trying to connect the dots to the murder which took place in the art district outside a dilapidated movie-house. People didn’t bother going to movies anymore because all the films they wanted to see played inside their connected heads. Krator took his undercover role seriously and began to live like an artist, even renting a cheap room to use as a painting studio. He enjoyed his foray into making art even though he never had any inclination to be an artist. An odd transformation took place. He started to notice objects and connections he never saw before. Adamine was becoming the artist he was pretending to be. The case became secondary. The body no longer mattered — only the gruesome image of the body remained as an inspiration for Krator’s disturbing paintings. He painted furiously, learning techniques as he created each new painting. His art was filled with bodies torn apart — lives upended and isolated in pools of blood. He knew it was a crime of passion but he didn’t know why … so, instead of investigating, he painted. He discovered how difficult it was to be an artist when no one cared for meaningful work. His paintings were not “beautiful” or decorative — his work only caused people to think and contemplate the mystery of life itself. People bought paintings as investments. Everyone was a consumer. Everyone was a product. Adamine began to suffer as only a truly dedicated fanatic can suffer — totally divorced from the real world and fuming in his own obsessive vision. Bombs exploding in the art district woke him to the gravity of the situation. It all related to the initial, unsolved crime. Bombs were followed by random shootings and other acts of violence against the most innocent and vulnerable. A media circus was quickly erected to take advantage of the unfolding drama — everyone craved entertainment. Even the victims gladly participated on blogs and social media — offering gruesome photos and selling actual artifacts from the crime scenes. Religious fanaticism reached a fevered pitch inflamed by scandals in the Catholic Church and demagoguery in the Koran, Bible, and other religious documents — it was all part of the growing entertainment-circus fueled by the need to make life more dramatic. People were totally connected and totally bored — pressure built to produce more intense (violent) incidents to substitute for human interaction in a virtually dependent world. It all became part of Adamine Krator’s art.
The detective-artist was sequestered for questioning. Adamine was confused. The authorities in his new home began to view him as a prime suspect. He wondered if he was originally hired to be ensnared in a trap: blamed for the crime he was hired to solve. Was he a scapegoat? He was taken to a virtual holding cell where he was a guest on the Police Kebab Reality Show broadcast over the internet. (more to come)