Born of Shadows

Born of shadows, born of night.

Born of stone, they wait. Patient, eternal.

“Ugh, those statues are too creepy,” she would whisper each time we walked passed; her eyes would dart, like mad nymphs across the canopy. Looking anywhere but there. “I always feel like they’re watching us. “ Each time I would fling a penny against the cowled masonry, waiting to hear the clink of metal-on-stone followed by its plunk as it sank beneath the water.

Make a wish.

Hope it never comes true.

Every day on my way to work, to the patisserie, to my apartment I would pass them by a dozen times, their cloaks revealing whispers of secrecy, of darkness. Every day another penny.

“I swear I saw one move…” her voice quavered, fearful.

I just laughed, flinging another copper disc their way.

Clink.

The smell of cold, of rain and decay.

The penny never plunked.

 

My first ever Flash! Friday photo prompt – and I’m sure that everyone else saw the lurking menace in these statues, but still I had to write it. Also: onomatopoeia!  Comments and criticisms always welcome! 

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4 thoughts on “Born of Shadows

  1. Killer final line! Absolutely perfect – clear enough to give you a knowing chill, not so forced that it’s contrived. Really liked it!

  2. […] Born of Shadows by ChrisWhiteWrites ~ @chriswhitewrite ~ Less than 500 words ~ Horror […]

  3. Ahh, that final line was fantastic. (ONOMATOPOEIA!! WOOOO!) 😛

  4. I have to agree that the last line made the story, but I also enjoyed this line: “her eyes would dart, like mad nymphs across the canopy.” Well done!

Comments and criticism always welcome!

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