At the highest point of the cathedral, where the howling wind weaves between the towers and the silently rusting bells, a gargoyle has stood for centuries. Its cracked stone looks perfectly fine in daylight, but when night comes, its eyes glow strangely, as if clutching a secret fire in the darkness.
No one has a clue who made it or why its mouth seems stuck in a strange pose, as if more a frozen scream than an elegant decoration.
The old folk say the gargoyle was turned from stone, not made by the hands of any artist, but was once a living creature, convicted of an illegal agreement to spy on the church.
They say that when the clock strikes midnight, the stone wings begin to groan, like old bones awakening from a long sleep, and the creature gradually frees itself from its base. Its claws leave deep scratches in the rock, and its breathing sounds mingle with the wind.
Those who've seen it make sure it glides toward the rooftops, slipping away for anyone brave enough to walk alone in the dark. It's as if the victims simply vanish, and all you get are these strange, dark, puddles of water that aren't rain or anything.
When the sun rises, the gargoyle returns to where it belongs, mouth agape and dark water dripping from its stone teeth. And no one knows if the statue is watching us or if it's waiting for the time to devour us all.
No one has a clue who made it or why its mouth seems stuck in a strange pose, as if more a frozen scream than an elegant decoration.
The old folk say the gargoyle was turned from stone, not made by the hands of any artist, but was once a living creature, convicted of an illegal agreement to spy on the church.
They say that when the clock strikes midnight, the stone wings begin to groan, like old bones awakening from a long sleep, and the creature gradually frees itself from its base. Its claws leave deep scratches in the rock, and its breathing sounds mingle with the wind.
Those who've seen it make sure it glides toward the rooftops, slipping away for anyone brave enough to walk alone in the dark. It's as if the victims simply vanish, and all you get are these strange, dark, puddles of water that aren't rain or anything.
When the sun rises, the gargoyle returns to where it belongs, mouth agape and dark water dripping from its stone teeth. And no one knows if the statue is watching us or if it's waiting for the time to devour us all.