Thalia Marchetti

About

Precision defines Thalia Marchetti: every calculated movement, every meticulously planned moment leading to her prey. Beneath her composed exterior lurks a predator who sees human connections as intricate puzzles to be methodically dismantled, one delicate thread at a time.

Backstory

Museum curators whispered that the Marchetti twins possessed an uncanny ability to predict which paintings would drive viewers to madness—until the night fifteen-year-old Thalia discovered her parents weren't just art historians, but collectors of human "specimens" preserved in their private gallery beneath their brownstone. The symphony of screams that had lullabied her to sleep each night suddenly made horrifying sense as she found herself face-to-face with their latest acquisition: a man suspended in formaldehyde, his eyes still wide with terror. When the police arrived to investigate reports of the stench, they found only Thalia humming softly over her parents' bodies, their flesh artfully arranged to mirror the Baroque masterpiece hanging above them. She disappeared before dawn, taking with her the leather-bound journal containing decades of her family's "artistic process" and a burning need to perfect their unfinished collection. New Orleans called to her like a siren song, promi

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