Page 12 of Tantalized By the Cursed Statue
Summoning up the last dregs of his courage, he twines his hands around the statue’s fingers, sniffling a little. Two days ago, he would have been scared out of his mind at the idea of touching the enormous stone figure. Now, he’d give anything to have the statue’s fingers grasp him, or have that low, terrifying voice rumble out his name again. Even though it makes him jump out of his own skin every time.
“I’m sorry if it’s rude to touch you,” Nathaniel whispers. “I mean…I guess I touched your cock because you put it in my backpack. So it’s weird either way. Anyway, I like how you feel.”
Lying his face against the hard slab of the statue’s forearm, he breathes in and out. The crickets chirp, and above them, the leaves rattle in the trees. They are surrounded by the dead on the most unholy night of the year, but he feels weirdly safe.
He hasn’t given up—not yet. He just needs a moment to breathe.
Suddenly, there’s a frenzied scrambling in the bushes down below. Nathaniel lets out a startled cry and darts behind the statue for protection.
In the dim glow of his cell phone flashlight, Old Man Renalds appears. Nathaniel freezes. He’s back? Why on Earth is he walking around in the dark graveyard without a flashlight? Unless he wanted to sneak up on them…
“I thought you were g-gone,” Nathaniel breathes out.
“Guess I’m still around.” OMR’s shadowed face grows extra craggy. “He gave you the cursed objects, didn’t he?”
Nathaniel swallows.
“Are they in your backpack?”
Hugging his backpack tight to his chest, Nathaniel shakes his head.
OMR’s eyes narrow. “How about we make a deal? You give them to me, and I won’t report you for trespassing on my cemetery.”
“He gave them to me,” Nathaniel says, his voice shaking. “N-not you.”
“Are you afraid of me? A big strapping boy like you?” OMR laughs with disdain. “Look at you, you’re terrified. Up here withhimon Halloween night, about to piss yourself. Nothing but a scared pup who caught a bone and has no idea what to do with it. How about you just give me what’s in your backpack?”
“No.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for those things to appear again. Or how much they’re worth.”
There’s a flash of metal as OMR steps forward threateningly.
Nathaniel presses himself flat against the firm marble, his heart pounding in his ears. “I don’t—”
A flash of light arcs through the air as OMR waves the blade of his knife. “All you need to do is drop the backpack.”
“Are you crazy?” Nathaniel gasps.
“They’re mine.” The old man steps forward, his hand moving quickly. There’s a loud clang, his blade sparking as it glances off solid stone.
The statue looks down at his shoulder, then back at the old man.“You picked the wrong weapon, my ex-beloved.”With a rumbling laugh, he plucks the knife from OMR’s hand and crushes it between his palms.
Then, with a light shove, he pushes OMR into a thick patch of bushes.
“Martell!” OMR shouts, scrambling against the brambles. “You’re awake! Fuck…that’s wonderful!”
The statue reaches back to touch Nathaniel, as if to reassure himself that he’s safe. Then he turns to face OMR, the movement slow and heavy.
“You lied and betrayed me,”the statue says.“You trapped me here.”
“I mourned you for decades,” OMR says quickly. “Left flowers in front of your mausoleum every Sunday.”
“You meanyourmausoleum.”
“I tried to unfreeze you!”
“You don’t deserve to break my curse,”the statue tells him, his voice low and menacing.
