Subscribers Only Horror
From the author: A talented art student living in Paris attempts to ease his loneliness by creating the perfect woman, in marble. When his own creation begins to whisper to him at night, he finds her a seductive muse who is likely to lead him down a path from which he cannot return.
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by Angel Leigh McCoy
Eduard Jarole caressed the swell of her breast. He ignored her stillness and, instead, imagined her shiver and sigh; he heard an echo of it in the shift and whisper of the curtains. Brushing his hand downward, he counted each rib and browsed the landscape of her sculpted stomach. The butt of his palm nestled into her pelvis, and his thumb stroked across her curl-decorated mound. Eduard smiled.
“So beautiful,” he praised. He loved her as he had never loved anyone. How could he not? He had created her. Creation breeds caring and loyalty, for one’s children and for one’s art. In the vast hive of the world, Eduard had found only one who had never disappointed him, and she never would. She could do no wrong in his eyes, for any faults in her were his own. He understood this and further understood the symbiotic bond that connected them. Without him, she would never have been born; without her, he was nothing. She, his greatest creation, made him ...