Sculptura

Those towering monoliths of rock and cement stood like great guardians of a prison made hidden from mankind.

Like old prison towers along these great mountains of gravel making sure it stays in place.

Yet I traveled there. Finding that grand building protecting the art of a most wonderful chaos.

I saw it first during my day travel. Walking through this land of wet limestone and howling winds. Walking through the dense forest until my eyes bore witness to this grand prison.

I felt the towers watching me. Calling me to turn and leave. Their gaze planted such terror in me that I ran.

Yet as I lay in my bed tossing and turning, I kept that place in mind. Like an echo that would not fade. Begging me to come for it.

For days it went on.illions thoughts on what they were hiding.

So I caved.

I took my car one autumn night and went as fast as I could. Through the twisting roads and the dense trees, I finally found it once more.

I parked my car by the towers of rock and stone and ventured in.

Each step on the cold dirt felt like it would be my last. But closer and closer I got, and soon the house was in view.

The thick night clouds blur the observing moonlights of old, yet their judgment remains the same.

As I stood before the building, looking yet old and new, I felt myself like a mouse staring into the eyes of a best.

Hesitantly, my hand pushed the door open, and I stepped in. The lights where on bright almost like they where waiting for me.

Passing two sets of doors, I saw it.

A grand behemoth of cloth and string.

Standing on its hind legs, it looked close to human. Yet its shapeless head showed no features, and its hands where nothing more than lumps it supported itself on.

A statue.

A work of art.

A grand prisoner of this world.

I marveled at its physique. At its natural body. At its hungry non existent eyes.

"Is this it?" I let out.

A almost disappointed look in my eye.

Was this really all this place was guarding?

I looked around to see anything else, but alas, nothing was there. Facing the statue once more, however, I noticed something wrong.

The behemoth had moved.

Just a slight inch forward, but now it was facing directly towards me.

Fear runs over me as I tire to leave. I turn tail for the door and try to push it open.

However, they felt more heavy than before. Like to make sure whatever was in here wouldn't leave. Including me.

Turning back once more, I saw the thing was much closer.

As adrenaline kicked in, I got the door open and headed for the main gate.

But once more, I saw it was blocked. Chairs and tables were blocking the door, and I heard it move closer.

I panicked and clawed at the wooden chairs. Throwing them behind me.

I heaved and tugged and moved the things one by one until I got closer to the gate.

Now once more, I saw it. Hidden in the shadows of the room behind me, it lurked. With a jolt of fear and clarity, I crawled under and pulled the door from underneath.

Pulling the chairs and tables with it. I crawled out and sprinted to my car.

Ignoring the judging eyes of the towers. Ignoring the cold dirt underneath me. Ignoring the thunderous beat of my heart.

Ignoring the fact that I left the door open.

I jumped in my car and looked back once more.

And there it was.

Out.

Standing on the cold autumn dirt, watching me as the towers of rocks' gaze faded. Returning to nothing more than old ruins of stone.

I pushed on the gas and drove home.

Cheering in laughter of my close escape.

Yet now that I sit here. In my dimly lit room. A wave of nausea holds my heart as I fear of it again.

It couldn't have known of my home. It couldn't have followed the car's hum.

I knew it couldn't.

Didn't I?

Yet here I sit and pray. That the thing by my nightstand is not the same.