“What…what happened?”
“The spell. The trap. Frozen into stone, never to breathe another breath. Bound to guard an empty mausoleum for eternity.”
Nathaniel’s own breath freezes inside his chest. They stand there in silence, the trees rattling in the wind.
Then he lets out a nervous laugh, feeling a little ridiculous. He’d been listening so intently to OMR’s story, he’d forgotten about all his stuff, scattered all over the ground somewhere near the mausoleum.
His stomach plunges at the thought of going back there alone.
“Um, sorry to bother you.” Nathaniel swallows, feeling very silly. “I should probably go find my backpack, and I dropped my phone. Would you mind coming with your flashlight?”
“Sure.”
As he and OMR make their way up the tree-covered hill to the mausoleum, he has to admit that it’s a little less terrifying to have someone else with him. And he’s so, so grateful that OMR does not shine his flashlight at the statue. It’s a vague, shadowy presence that he doesn’t have to look at.
It’s not long before Nathaniel locates his backpack. And a few feet away, his phone lies face down in the grass. When he picks it up, the light is still on.
“Thanks for your help.” Nathaniel shoulders his backpack and gives the man a shaky smile as they begin walking back down the hill. “I guess there’s one thing I don’t understand about your story, though. Why did the town have to freeze him into living stone or whatever?” Relief mixed with adrenaline makes Nathaniel extra-talkative. “Why didn’t they just lock him in the mausoleum and pretend he was dead?”
“He wasn’t human,” OMR answers, his face shadowed by the beam of the flashlight. “Even back then. His cursed objects were imbued with tantalizing sexual evil. We feared that he would escape, come after us. We had to fight magic with magic.”
“Okay,” Nathaniel says giddily, “but didn’t you tell me that he was a town legend when you were young? Now you’re talking about him like you were there.”
“Believe whatever you want.” OMR lets out a weary sigh. “I’m just an old man, and it’s long past my bedtime. Things were different back then. We were told he was an evil wandering spirit who uses his dark magic to turn the good young men of the town to the pleasures of other men.”
“But that’s bananas.” Nathaniel snorts, rolling his eyes at what old timers believe. “You said the statue and his lover werehooking up for a whole season? I’ll bet his lover was gay to start with. That idiot probably just claimed he was seduced byevil statue magicto save face in front of the town.”
The man frowns at him, his craggy face growing even more crags. “I’m sure a boy like you would know nothing about that.”
What the hell?!
Nathaniel’s skin begins to burn. “Um, I gotta go.” He spins around and starts walking away quickly. “Thanks for your help with the flashlight.”
“Take care of yourself,” OMR calls after him. “Remember, it’s dangerous to travel through the cemetery at night.”
Nathaniel shivers, hurrying away even faster.
Chapter 2: The Cursed Items of Torment
Nathaniel snuggles under the covers of his bed, relieved to be safe inside his tiny apartment. But something keeps nagging at him. It’s probably nothing… just that the weight of his backpack seemed slightly off.
As soon as he reaches down and unzips his backpack, he lets out a jittery laugh.
The big, creepy statue stole his Houdini chains! Of course, they probably fell out while he was running away. But it’s funny to imagine that on top of being spooky, the statue is kinky as hell.
Then his stomach drops.
No way. This is a littletoocreepy.
There is something else inside his backpack. Two other things. He’s afraid to reach his hand inside, so he tips it over and gives it a shake.
The objects roll out. A small metal cage and a gigantic stone cock.
He lets out an even louder laugh. Because what else are you supposed to do when an enormous dick rolls out of your backpack?
As long as he keeps laughing, he can’t get freaked out. And not freaking out is a good thing. He can handle this. He’s justgoing to calmly read the inscription written on the base of the stone cock.
Only the man who can take the statue’s flesh in full and spill in the grip of torment can break the curse.
