To the Envy of her Muse, We Toast to Ascension

A little bit of horror originally for the Macabre Monday statue prompt!

She speaks to the marble

Like lords and ladies could only imagine.

She drives her chisel in with ease,

Love.

Care.

I adore her.

She is the cradle of creation

Which I must revolve around 

My love builds.

They call to her,

She gives them something they'll never understand,

For she knows the stone infinitely.

She calls it joy,

Love,

Compassion for the self.

She tells the lifeless beautiful nothings,

She teases it, forces it, tricks it.

Then one day,

It becomes.

Becomes,

Until the world melts away,

And we are reborn anew.

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.

.

My job isn't important, and who I am means nothing. I am only the conduit by which you must understand the most beautiful .

But her... she will live forevermore in the annals of history. I come home from a job that means nothing to me - it's okay, I know they don't care about me either. I listen at the door for her to finish her newest consultation. This is special. This is magical - my love is magical.

“And you promise to capture this side, right? The good side?” This one sounds haughty - full of herself but simultaneously insecure like only a lady from the city would be.

“Certainly, ma'am.” She replies, her voice gentle and reassuring. “Remember though, it's so important to use your natural beauty. Who we are beneath is important to the marble, you see.”

“Sure, sure… I'll pay you handsomely to do it right. That's enough for me.” 

My love grunted in reply then bid the woman a good day. I backed away, and acted as though I was busy cleaning the hallway. The woman - adorned in her grand baby blue hat and tight corset all wrapped around pale skin without blemish - greets me with a muted gasp of what I imagine must be scandal from being in the home of a class of a person such as I. She pushes by me, mumbling irritants and concerns that are beyond the money I could ever make.

I poke my head into my love's studio. She greets me with a smile that shimmers through her brown eyes and makes her curly sable hair glow in the early evening glow of night. Her skin looks kissed by the sun that reflects off the grand sea of the fishing village just outside the city we call home. The wrinkles around her smile are so full of emotion and life. I always wondered how she held it all in one beautiful person. Even through all of that, her smile is weary. Her eyes fight to hide the truth, but I know. I always know.

“A new commission?” I ask as I greet her in my arms. She embraces me.

“Our grand Ladyship, yes. She doesn't care about the process. The importance of asymmetry. The human experience. Beauty.” She pulls away from me to organize her tools. “She cares about what she sees when she looks this way in the mirror.” My love turns her head to the side and sticks her tongue out at me. I snicker, like a gossiping child.

“She's used to painters, love. She'll understand when she sees it. When she experiences herself in all dimensions. In all her beauty.”

“This is why…” she didn't finish her sentence. Instead, she embraces me again and I feel the weight of her tired form collapse into mine. I gently guide her to the kitchen and onto the couch. Our little home only has enough space for a kitchen, bathroom, studio, and bedroom. Our entertainment is watching each other cook when the other is too tired. 

She slumps into the stained old couch and sighs. I prepare dinner while recounting my silly meaningless day. I can tell she still listened intently, even if it mattered little if it at all to her. Then, we prepare for bed.

.

.

.

Late into the night we talk about her newest project. We both agree the woman was a beauty of modern culture. She was exactly how someone may look in a magazine of high society. That didn’t matter to the stone though. My love was adamant that the beauty of a sculpture was putting humanity into the most lifeless form. She ponders out loud to me. She fights with her own thoughts, figuring out how to square the two. I know she already has a solution.

She always does.

She smiles at me “My muse, you have work in the morning. You should rest.”

“And what about you?” I ask her. She taps her head,

“I'm working right now.” I smile and wrap my arms tight around her. She nuzzles her head close to mine and our hair becomes tangled. We both laugh and rest there.

Not ten minutes pass before we both jump in surprise at a knock at the door. We share a look in the dark, then look through our open bedroom door down the hallway through to the kitchen, and to the front door. The door shakes slightly on old rusted hinges as a heavy knock comes again. We force ourselves out of bed to make for the door. I grab an old heavy stick from the forest that I keep at our bedside and my love grabs a chisel from her nightstand. 

We approach the door, not turning the lights on just in case we have to pretend we aren't home. I carefully move the curtain away from the kitchen window.

Standing outside was a figure shrouded in darkness. It appears to be a man, but I’m not sure. He wears a large coat, covering a lumbering form and a tri-cornered hat that covers his features. All I can see for certain is a glint of light protruding from his face, though it reveals nothing of his features.

“It's a man.” I whisper to her. My love looks at me with confusion but accepts my assumption. She pulls open the door. My heart drops - what is she thinking?

“Can I help you, sir?” She says as accusatorily as she can muster. 

All around us, I begin to feel something strange. My mind grows more exhausted than it has felt all night, and I can feel the vibrations of my own breath traveling through the air. I feel my heart slow down and I can’t help but think I should feel terrified. Instead I feel a strange tinge of calm overtake me.

“I see.” My love responds. 

I didn’t hear the man say anything to her. Her face had contorted into a smile at some point. Her widening grin feels like a strange wave of energy that pierces through my mind and cradles me upon the precipice of a darkness I can’t fathom.

“Oh, yes. Yes, absolutely. Though I must say, discretion isn't often why people want sculptures. I -” 

She begins to nod. Each rhythmic movement makes my mind reel as the world around me starts to melt. All I can see is her, and the strange glow from beneath the man’s hat. She doesn’t seem to notice me falling to the floor in slow motion. I reach a hand out to catch myself, but my hand seems to pass through the lip of the counter and my slow collapse continues. 

“Certainly, sir. Well, please come in. I'll get your measurements and have you on your way. It is late after all.”

If I was in a better state of mind, I certainly would be protesting this nonsense, but the large looming figure enters our home, and my head hits the ground. Then the world went black.

.

.

.

My head throbs, exhaustion wraps around me like a blanket made of warm foam. I fight off the exhaustion, and force myself from bed, and out into the sunlight of the bedroom window. My love isn’t here. I feel myself growing worried as I remember the night before. Was that man still here? I stumble through the bedroom door and gently push her studio door open. Her supplies have been cleared away from the bay window and it's open. The walls are covered in scratches and structural damage. She’s staring at a large chunk of marble that barely fits in the room. She must’ve gone out to the quarry early and brought it in through the window.

“For the woman yesterday?” I finally ask, letting my presence be known.

“Hm?” My love replies. She’s staring at the marble looking away from me.

“The marble. Is it for the woman? It’s an expensive hunk. I’d imagine only such a lady could afford it.”

“Oh,” Her voice deflates. “No. I sent a courier to tell her that her statue was on hold indefinitely.”

“Indefinitely? My love, she’ll go to someone else!” I can’t believe she turned such an opportunity away. Our bills are coming due and my meager salary can’t cover living in our small space without her support. 

“If she’s smart she won’t.” She reasons. Then she hesitates and chuckles, “Ah, who am I kidding? You’re right she just might.” My mouth falls open. She’s being so flippant. She doesn’t care.

“My love, I -”

“This,” She raises her voice, drowning me out. “This is more important.” She turns to me, her beautiful - her eyes! My God, her eyes. 

At first I thought they were bloodshot. Her beautiful, perfect eyes are filled with burst blood vessels, the veins had ruptured across her irises and streaked across the whites of her eyes. Around her eye sockets, her face is covered in scratches that drag down to her cheeks and up to her hairline. Her skin was ashy. Her eyes are watering, but the tears never meet her cheeks. Instead, they grasp and roll down the scratch lines, then disappear somewhere in the folds of her face.

“My… my - are you okay?” I take an involuntary step back as I stare at her in disbelief. What's happening to her? What did that man do?

“I’m fine. This project will be the greatest thing to happen to us. The most beautiful, wondrous thing. We will never want or need anything again. I promise you. You won’t need that job ever again. We’ll leave these slums behind and start a new life far away from here. But first… I must conquer this.”

Conquer? These aren’t her words. This isn’t her. I back out of the room. My heart pounds with fear and uncertainty. She turns back to the marble and stares with her hands on her hips. I shut the door and fall to the ground, sucking in air, trying to make sense of what I saw. I close my eyes. 

This can’t be real. I’ll go to work. I’ll go. 

I force myself up, get ready as quickly and quietly as I can, and run out the door. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. When I come home, everything will be okay again, it has to be.

It has to be okay.

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.

By the time I’m home the sun has fallen, casting our village on the city outskirts into darkness. The shadows of the city’s grand castles leave us in an early evening while they enjoy the splendor of the sunset. It’s something I’ve grown used to, but it still left me feeling empty not seeing the sunset with my love. It didn’t matter anymore though. Now I just have to fear what’s waiting for me in the darkness of our home. I crept into the house carefully. There’s a supernatural silence that makes my skin tingle and my heart flutter. I take in a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. Everything is fine, everything will be okay. I take a few steps further inside before I hear her voice.

“Oh, of course, of course. I will say what you ask of me isn’t impossible - quite possible, in fact - but I worry about the logistics. Wouldn’t you want it elsewhere? Perhaps give me a studio in the city or somewhere else and I could -”

The silence reigns once more. I can hear her grunting in confirmation to words that aren’t falling upon my ears.

“I see…” She says to the silence. 

I walk carefully - avoiding the floorboards I know to creak - and make my way to her studio. The door is only slightly ajar.

“I understand. This is beautiful. Beautiful.” She says to the silence. 

I peek inside the studio. She’s sitting in darkness. At first I’m certain she’s alone. Certain no one’s on the other side of the discussion. But deep in the shadows of the studio, I see him: That strange man from the other night. Still, he says not a word. Yet she responds as though he is giving her important details. The silence eats at me. What is she hearing? What am I missing?

“I am. Yes. I am honored. When the time comes, I will do as you ask. Then we’ll be free? All of us?”

She glances at the door. Her eyes are a milky white. Gone is the beautiful lustrous brown that I recognize as her. I stifle a gasp as I stare. She smiles at me, as if she’s sharing something special. Sharing a secret. She’s so familiar, but so alien. Her eyes are gone. Those beautiful dark eyes I always knew are gone. The scratches have turned to deep cuts that climb past her face and down her neck. She turns back to the figure bathing in shadows and nods.

“Anything you require, my lord.”

The figure turns to look at me. My heart drops as I grow to know him - it. Beneath his hat is no face I have ever seen or known. Beneath it lays an endless maw of darkness. Beyond that is the pale-white of a face in a shape that I couldn’t understand or comprehend. The world grows unstable around me. My heart feels like there’s a hole in it. Blood won’t pump through my body and my chest feels like it’s filling with viscous fluid. I struggle to breath and my mind reels. Something inside my skull rattles and cries. Cries out for safety and protection. 

The darkness consumes me. Consumes all.

I can’t escape, can't think, can’t live in this world. 

My eyes flutter shut, and I lose my grip on reality.

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That night I dream of leviathans rising from the sea to consume the world. 

I dream of monsters coming down from the clouds, inky black tentacles wrapped around the castles of the city and bringing them down. 

Souls are devoured in darkness. 

The ground opens up, consuming the earth in floods of magma and fire. 

Beyond it all, are two milky white eyes, staring on as life as we know it is lost to the dark beyond. 

I am nowhere, but everywhere. 

I am the eyes. I am the magma. I am every soul. I am every creature beyond the darkness hiding within the unknown.

And yet I’m only me. 

Dead and devoured.

And my love? 

I can’t find her anywhere.

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I awake to my love screaming somewhere in the dark of the night. I shoot up from bed and stagger forth, trying to find her. I grab at her place in bed, trying to comfort her, trying to reassure her that everything will be okay.

She isn’t there.

From the darkness, I hear a deep guttural thrum, like energy projecting out into the world. I fumble with the handle of the door, then make my way out into the hallway. A great light floods the hallway. If it wasn’t such a blinding light, perhaps it could illuminate the way. Still, I can see the light is coming from the studio. I call out to my love in the darkness, but I’m only met with silence. I feel a horror rising up inside me, the thought of something having happened to her grips my throat and twists my stomach into wet impossible knots. The thought of that strange man doing something terrible to her has a hold on me. I push open the door to the studio and my worst nightmares become realized.

My love is on her knees at the foot of a grand marble obelisk. It’s glowing, illuminating all the once hidden shadows of the room. Every corner is splayed with curious reddened eyes watching her worship at the base of the obelisk. I can’t contain my fear as I let out a gasp of incomprehensible horror. The eyes focus upon me all at once. They shake and twitch as though I’m an invader upon a sacred ceremony.

My love turns , the light dimming as she focuses on me. Her eye sockets are empty. Her face has been consumed with deep throbbing red gashes. She raises a hand to me. I can see her own skin clinging under her sharpened nails. She smiles as her empty face stares back at me. Is that love or hunger in her smile?

“What happened to you?” I whisper in horror.

“Something beautiful.”

---

Hey all, thank you as always for reading! This was a fun one for me, and it was a good exploration into the sort of cosmic horror/unknown that I really like to explore!

A few updates real quick…

Hang around next week for a potential book chat or maybe some sci irl stuff - I haven’t decided which yet! New stories soon though!

Also, fun news but we have surpassed 140 subscribers! I was sitting in the 130’s for a few months, which was the most stagnant I think I’ve been since starting. No big deal at all, but I was excited to tick over that 140 marker. I think things have slowed down a little because I’ve been doing less advertising and it’s hard for new people to jump in during a serial. I don’t really intend on changing how I’m approaching things in the name of growth because that’s not why I do this though. That doesn’t mean I won’t celebrate a little mile stone here and there! So here’s to 140, and maybe we can round it out at 150 here soon!

Lastly, I know monetization is a big thing on Substack - if you don’t do it, it’s still often a big point of discussion - but I don’t want to put any of my work behind a paywall and frankly I don’t have the time to make anything extra for people who would pay for monthly subscriptions so I don’t think that would be entirely fair. Instead, I’d like to try out using the ko-fi tipping system! So, from here on out I want to add a ‘tip’ option through ko-fi. This way it doesn’t have to be a regular payment or locking anything behind a paywall or anything like that. So if you like a particular story, maybe leave a tip and if you can’t afford it (don’t worry, I know I wouldn’t be able to), then don’t worry about it!

Just a reminder, this is all for the fun of it, so I don’t expect anything of any readers. That’s why it’s more of a tip system. If you are able and willing, then the option is available, and if not then that’s completely fine!

Thanks for having a look and I hope you enjoyed! In the meantime, maybe check out some of other pieces on my page! My I suggest starting with The Trials of Astra directory?