Medusa’s Head

The sheer grandeur of the sculptures in the room struck him. With its intricate details and imposing presence, each idol felt like a living entity, ready to pounce on him.

“No one can compete with you,” he muttered softly.

“I’m sure no one would want to. They came; they saw the epitome of ugliness and turned into stone.”

He was frozen in fear as he saw reptilian tongues leap at him from the mirror, his breath caught in his throat.

All his feet could do was walk away; all his eyes could do was avoid watching Medusa’s head hanging above.


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