PART 2 : The Sculptor Of The Dead
Rain hammered against the windows of Blackthorn Pottery Academy.
Inside the dimly lit studio, rows of nervous students sat silently beside spinning pottery wheels. The air smelled of wet clay, old wood, and burning candles.
At the center of the room stood Professor Helena Voss.
She was famous across Europe for creating pottery so realistic it looked alive.
But rumors followed her everywhere.
People whispered that her art carried something dark inside it.
Tonight’s class felt different.
The candles flickered strangely.
The room felt colder than usual.
A young student named Emma sat trembling at her pottery wheel, her hands shaking as clay spun beneath her fingers.
Her face was smeared with wet clay and sweat.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered fearfully.
“Something is wrong here…”
Bloody tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.
The other students stared at her in horror.
But Professor Helena remained calm.
Without speaking, the old woman continued shaping a tall clay vase with slow, careful hands.
The spinning wheel hummed softly.
Then—
CRACK.
A deep fracture split down the center of the vase.
Every student froze.
The room fell completely silent except for the sound of rain outside.
The crack widened.
Wet clay slowly peeled apart from the inside.
And then…
Something moved.
A pale human face suddenly pushed outward through the broken clay.
Students screamed.
A lifeless human head emerged from inside the vase, covered in mud and dripping water onto the floor.
Its empty eyes stared upward at the ceiling.
Motionless.
Dead.
Emma backed away in terror.
“What is THAT?!” someone cried.
Professor Helena finally looked up.
Her expression showed no fear.
Only disappointment.
“She wasn’t ready,” the old woman said coldly.
The students stared at her in confusion.
Then distant footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the studio.
Slow.
Heavy.
Getting closer.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The studio door slowly creaked open by itself.
A tall clay-covered figure stood in the darkness beyond the doorway.
Breathing.
Alive.
One of the students began sobbing.
Because everyone suddenly understood the horrifying truth.
Professor Helena wasn’t teaching pottery.
She was trying to create life from clay.
And tonight…
Something had finally awakened.
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