AWAKENING SHADOWS
Emory Malaika Diallo p.o.v
The most exquisite sculpture stood before me, dark as midnight yet graceful as an angel. It was a still object that actually made my breathe stop, the kind of thing you always look at more than twice to capture its elegance.
I drew nigh, fraught with a mix of reverence and fastidiousness. Upon the touch, the stone felt more flesh-like than any carving I had ever beheld. Over the chest, sturdy frame of the shoulders and the sharp line of the jaw, my fingers did roam, captivated by a visage so grand.
The statue would most probably cost a fortune if Jared planned to sell it, though retaining it would generate the government more revenue. As his architect it was my duty to see that he gets the most out of the mansion.
My thoughts had trailed off that I hadn’t realised how dangerously close had I had gotten to the sculpture. Its anatomical detail was so intricate that the veins looked incredibly lifelike beneath the stone. I could imagine myself dating a human version of it, I had dated a couple of guys none came close to the likeliness of whoever had inspired the art piece.
My fingers roamed the smooth silicone, touching the chest one last time before moving them further down. To my great wonderment, there was a pulse in it. A small almost none existing beat beneath the surface. I touched the chest again just to be sure I wasn’t imagining it. I wasn’t.
I half laughed at myself, whatever vibration was going through the room must have created a pulse for the sculpture. Interesting, I could use that as a concept for the design of the estate’s renovation. Awakening...
A crimson spark kindled within the now-animated eyes of the sculpture, softening gradually into a grey light that gazed down into my own brown eyes.. "It can’t be," I chided myself, locking my eyes shut before opening them again. "it can’t be." I said again, to awaken myself in case I was dreaming.
When I mastered the courage to look at it again, its eyes now looked so human, so alive and most frighteningly, very much focused at ME!
I took a step back, or two I couldn’t count then but I could feel the stiff weave of my suit tightening against my skin, resisting my frantic movements. “Oh God.” I mumbled, touching the cross on my chest.
The sculpture began to thaw in my presence, from head to toe revealing what bore the semblance of a solid human flesh with the eyes still starring back at me. No smirk or resemblance of a facial expression appeared and I hit the wall behind me.
Not intending to snap it out of its daze, I touched the surface at my back with exceeding slowness labouring to locate the door. I had entered through an entrance, a void, a huge entrance that seemed to have closed up somehow the second that I needed to evacuate the place.
The form seemed to molt faster than I could catch my breath, to a more supple unclad human body. Its neck inclined to stare down at my retreating form, most probably noticing me for the first time. The smoldering look in the grey obsidian eyes gave me a pang of mortal terror.
Two weeks back
(Hale Lani Holdings)
Emory p.o.v
The HLH building hove into view a moment past the ninth hour. Sanyu, my assistant, alighted from the car to open the door. The skies over Orenthal were perpetually overcast and often pluvious, such that every soul ventured forth with an umbrella, even to the nearest shop.
The streets at the high end of Orenthal never carried much traffic and today was no different, the chairwoman would expect an explanation for my coming late. Much as we lived in the same house and even shared a last name, the chairwoman Mrs. Diallo and I never saw much of each other at home, not many at the company knew that we were related. The ones that figured it out found out through news reports where I appeared alongside her husband the prime minister although those were rare.
The guard moved aside to open the board room doors and we made our way to an already silent stricken hall. The board was already assembled when I arrived; my entrance drew every eye in the room. Mrs. Diallo’s questioning gaze shifted from the files in my hands to my face.
My group's past achievements gave me a false sense of security, my shoes making no sound at the floor, I sat across from Mr. Amanzi, who smiled at me encouragingly and I reciprocated with a nod.
The black files glided across the polished surface as I cleared my throat, summoning the mettle to discuss the museum deal we had just finalised.
“I hope you will overlook my lack of punctuality.” I said, sliding a file to every member within reach, just as Sanyu delivered one to the Boss lady.
“The Tsalani museum construction is set to start on the 5th of next month, and the companies in co-”
She didn’t even grant the papers a glance; the moment she touched them, she set them aside and interjected, ending my sentence.
“Ms. Malaika,” she started. She always called me by my middle name in public, not that she was ashamed but it was the safest way to keep our kinship aside.I went by that middle name for ages thought school, to finding my first job, not even a single one of my past boyfriends ever gleaned that I was a Diallo till recently when I had to attend the first lady’s birth day banquet as part of the prime minister’s family.
“Ms. Malaika, if you had come in time you would have figured out that the museum project was entrusted to Ms. Stacy. That said, there is a subsequent stint for you.”
At that moment, I fervently hoped her words were merely facetious, but the sober part of me was well aware that a woman of her stature never bluffs. I vouchsafed a quiet nod and retreated to my chair to witness my adversary being assigned the lead on an initiative I had worked tirelessly to develop, a project whose every design I had wrought from its very foundations; now the whole of my toil was to be credited to her name. Stacy, head architect of the Tsalani museum. I could envision her name emblazoned upon the lintel, while her smirking countenance is broadcast across the public chronicles during the grand unveiling.
“The government is planning to start an architectural competition for the renovation of the Urtu zone 0001 and the board has decided that your group is to work on that project.” One of the board members delineated.
None were permitted to tread within the Urtu Zone, a land kept inviolate since the ancient world. The secrets therein were forbidden to the tongue, and because the government prospered greatly from such hallowed ground, any desecration was punished as high treason. It would have been a rare privilege to work on a project as vast as the Urtu Grounds; yet I feared I did not possess the strength to prevail in such a contest, let alone oversee its restoration.
Stacy attempted to offer an assuring smile, but I ignored it entirely. Her excessive friendliness with everyone was so disingenuous and physically nauseating.
