These ghoulish devils are turning people into empty hulls. They ask to draw your portrait, then they draw an abstract-looking rendering. Some others have a type of x-ray machine & they'll photograph right through your body. Either way, they end up possessing a map of your core data. They give you a copy, posing as one of the hordes of newly appearing street artists, but keep an image for themselves. Collaboratively they're building up a library of images of each one of us. Later, they have only to see you on the street, in the super market, sitting at a cafe, in your own bed dreaming, somewhere where you're unconscious is as strong as your conscious, and they'll snap another x-ray of you or dab another color on their existing painting finishing sufficiently their information model of you. That night, their victim will mysteriously die of a heart attack or some other unexplainable internal death.
I am a French Bridgette Bardot, lithe & brunette. My attacker looks like a Matthew Barney main character from Cremaster Cycle. Lots of people I know around me have already died. I'm still alive, I think it's through my willpower, I feel internally strong. Whenever I feel the ghoul trying to get a clear picture of my internal organs, I steel myself & make myself hate and want my attacker dead. I'm planning an elaborate wedding with painted rivers as backdrop. The ghoul is planning to come to my wedding and photograph me so that he can color match the paint he's already chosen in his portrait of my soul, and then I would finally die with my guard down. So far, I've kept the wedding location a secret.