Good Intentions

The path to hell is paved with good intentions.

She found them—small, trembling creatures with eyes of unspoken promise. They clung to her like shadows made flesh, these fragile, things, and her heart, unguarded, cracked open to cradle them. She fed them, whispered comfort into their fur, and swore to shield them from the cruelties of the world.

But as days stretched into months, they began to change. Or perhaps it was her. Their once-piteous cries grew shrill and insistent, their nimble fingers pried into the corners of her soul where doubt and desire slumbered. They taught her lessons she hadn’t sought—how to take without asking, how to covet what wasn’t hers, how to weave truth into a net of lies.

The more she gave, the more they took, until their tiny hands no longer felt like whispers of gratitude but chains, tightening around her very being. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to mirror them: her laugh carried an edge of malice, her gaze a glint of hunger. What she had once despised now lived in her reflection—a creature of vanity and deceit, birthed from her own mercy.

And in the end, she could no longer tell if she had saved them or if they had destroyed her.

Printed on 120gsm enhanced matte paper, with special edition A1 and A0 prints available on metallic rag, giving the artwork a distinctive metallic sheen.

Special thanks to my sister, Nikitha, for serving as the reference model.