Neve poured the ashes of their mother’s grimoire into the bowl. Larissa added a shimmering crimson liquid, whispering incantations as she stirred.
The ashes congealed into clay, which Larissa sculpted into a small, human-like form. A homunculus. She pressed in pieces of volcanic glass where the eyes should be.
The eyelids opened.
“Hello, little one,” Larissa whispered.
The homunculus smiled, revealing rows of pin-sharp teeth.
“Oh, he’s precious!” Neve squealed, as the homunculus climbed into her outstretched palm.
With a nod from Larissa, the homunculus leapt, sinking its razored claws into Neve’s eyes.
“Yes,” Larissa said. “He is.”
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Warren Benedetto 