Souls of Stone

By Morgan J. Manns

I had always lived for darkness. No other time were gargoyles permitted to come alive and feast upon delectable, cursed things. The hunt was all we knew—all we desired. Each night atop my cathedral, I approached twilight with the same anticipation, blissfully unaware that one evening held the power to alter my destiny forever.

I can’t help but revisit that night.

The sun dipped below the cityscape, leaving a fiery glow in its wake. Shivering as the bonds of my stone prison melted away, I eagerly awaited the cover of darkness, unaware of what was waiting for me.

On either side of me perched others of my kind, poised in a menacing snarl, their maws agape as if they would swallow the sky whole. I watched for signs of life, hope flaring within me. Perhaps tonight they would choose to fly once again.

As the first star emerged, I stretched my gargantuan wings. My hunger, as usual, was insatiable.

Let me live.

When the final ray of sunlight retreated, my plea was granted. I was free.

A growl vibrated through me as I launched myself from the parapets. The wind howled as the earth drew near. I unfurled my wings, embracing the air currents that lifted me toward the heavens.

Peering down at the cathedral, I waited for the others to join me. Stillness mocked my hope. I turned my gaze away, shrugging off despair. Once again, I must hunt alone.

Movement in the graveyard drew my attention.

I dove, twisting over the treetops. Curling my wings, I landed on a thick branch. My eyes swept across the moonlit cemetery.

I held back a snarl as a translucent figure emerged from behind a towering stone angel brandishing a spear. The glowing demon had taken the shape of a human in a sparkling dress of moonstones—a beautiful choice for something so ugly.

Demon spirits often drifted through the tombstones, looking for weary, grief-laden humans to influence. In the daylight, I could do nothing. But at night, they were easy prey.

Oblivious of my presence, this one drifted between tombstones as if paying her respects—a ridiculous thought. Demons only wanted one thing—to whisper false lies into humans’ ears, forcing them into despair. I wouldn’t let her accomplish her filthy task.

Ensuring no humans were present, I swooped in a silent descent. My wings cast a torrent of wind, sending fog into billowing drifts. I reached my talons out to where I last saw the creature, but she’d vanished.

I pivoted to land beside the stone angel. The demon had to be nearby—they seldom strayed far from their infernal origins.

As the fog settled, the unnatural glow returned from behind a twisted oak.

I stepped forward, ready to sink my teeth into the demon’s throat.

Without warning, agony sliced through me. I howled. Faltering, I glanced over my shoulder. The stone angel appeared motionless, but her stance had shifted, her spear finding a new home—driven deep into my side.

I felt heavy, my movements sluggish. Fear gripped me, and I instinctually searched the sky. The stars remained bright. Hours remained until morning. So, why did the spear make me feel like I was about to turn back into stone? What dark magic was this?

The demon disguised in starlight approached, gliding through the early spring fog, her hand outstretched as if casting a spell.

She must be the cause of all this. The statue was being controlled by her.

“You foul creature,” I managed to growl.

She halted a row of tombstones in front of me, keeping her distance from my powerful claws. “Madness consumes you, gargoyle. You must be stopped.”

I frowned at the demon’s poisonous words, clenching my jaw. I swung my head back at the stone angel, uncertain if it would strike again.

The weight in my limbs deepened, sparking a warning within me. Killing was no longer my priority. I had to return to my cathedral before daylight. If I remained here when the first rays emerged, my stone prison would be eternal. I would never fly again.

I painfully spread my wings, ready to escape, but the spear still pierced me. I’d have to remove it before…

The stone angel sprang to life once more, seizing the spear and thrusting it through me, pinning me to the earth. I gasped as black blood flowed from the wound, drenching the ground.

“Your hunt is over,” the glowing one said.

I panted through the agony. “You cannot keep me from the skies.”

She knelt, unexpected sorrow flickering across her angelic features as she met my frantic gaze. “Gargoyles were imprisoned atop cathedrals years ago for the madness that overtook them. Some, it appears, were missed, and still hunt across the earth. This cannot continue.”

My horns dipped toward her in challenge. “What madness?”

“You believe you stalk demons, but in truth, you hunt angels. The terror in the night is none other than yourself.”

Somehow, I knew she was right. Memories surged, and the painful truth dawned on me. I’d destroyed hundreds like her—angels. The monster had been me all along.

The stone’s embrace advanced, slowing my heart.

“Wait, how do I rectify this?” Regret swelled as I pleaded for forgiveness.

“You live for the darkness. Find it within yourself to also live for the light.”

I wanted to ask more, but couldn’t. I’d been transformed into stone.

She returned me to my cathedral. At first, my fury raged when I remained bound even in darkness. However, the beauty of sunlight eventually revealed itself.

With the passing of days, I watched, seeing humans’ hope bloom with the sun. Contemplating their joy, something within me broke open.

When night returned, my hunger no longer consumed me. Stone shattered and dark wings erupted into the skies. I roared with thankfulness. My brothers and I were free once more. We needed to overcome the darkness together before we could once again live among it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Morgan J. Manns is a speculative fiction writer who firmly believes that the world needs more stories filled with magic and wonder. Captivated by the realm of intricate world-building since composing her first fantasy tale at the age of ten, she now ventures beneath the endless Canadian prairie sky with her supportive husband and two hobbit children, all while eagerly contemplating her next literary creation. While her current occupation is that of an elementary school teacher, her dream job will always be dragon rider, soaring through the skies of her imaginings.

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