very short story: brando again

i.

"bullshit!" orfeo shouted. the applauding audience stopped applauding and turned to see him storm out of the viewing room. this was followed by murmurs which orfeo silenced by slamming the door.

it was the 4th national sculpture competition and orfeo ocampo lost to the aging sculptor, brando dela cruz yet again, he whom they called "the michelangelo of the philippines". this was because his works were traditional sculptures of the human form and they were great, but orfeo sought to beat him with his avant garde style. he had labored day and night with his masterpieces and still they failed to stand up to brando's.

the door to the viewing room opened and gina came out, and orfeo hard the clapping and cheering from the inside. gina was his assistant and girlfriend, in that order. she ran to his side.

"orfeo, don't be so hard on yourself," she told him. "there's still next year." she placed her hand on his arm but he moved away from her and began to head for the exit.

"fuck next year," he said without looking.

"but what about your god of a shrinking universe?"

he paused at the doorway. "smash it to pieces." he stepped out and gina never saw orfeo again...


ii.

a week later, orfeo was standing in front of the gate to brando's mansion. a maid opened it for him and ushered him inside. she led him through a hallway of sculptures and it was the first time he ever came so near to brando's works. they really were amazing. the maid gestured him to enter a door that opened to a staircase that spiraled downward and left.

when orfeo reached the bottom end of the staircase, he found himself in a small windowless room. in the middle was a long table with sculpting tools neatly placed on top. behind it was a large slab of stone.

as orfeo stepped forward to look at the tools, he noticed something hanging in the middle of the high ceiling. he couldn't tell what it was but it looked like a big ball with a hole on one side.

"orfeo," brando said suddenly, appearing from behind the slab of stone, startling him. "welcome to my workshop."

orfeo remained silent.

"anyway, i'm glad that you've finally come to your senses and agreed to be my protege." brando look at his tools, searching, rubbing his long white beard. "now, the first thing i want you to know is..."

"i'm not here to be your fucking protege." when brando looked up, he was staring at the wrong end of a gun. "i'm here to make sure your sculpting days are over."

brando showed no sign of fear and merely laughed. "of course. i knew that the moment you called me. however..." brando snapped and found what he was looking for amongst the tools: a whistle. "ah, here it is. however, poor orfeo, i am one step ahead of you."

"what do you mean? what is that?"

brando pressed the whistle on his lips and blew on it. orfeo heard it faintly. he looked around expecting a guard dog to lunge at him but there was none.

instead, a wail came from the sphere on the ceiling. orfeo looked up and a large, colorful bird emerged from the hole. it flapped its wings and then flew out. its long tail sparkled.

"what the...," orfeo said and the bird circled above him and released its droppings. the poop fell on orfeo's head. "shit!"

he tried to move away but he felt his feet stiffen. he looked down and his feet had turned to stone. and rapidly, so did his legs, followed by his waist and torso. he pointed the gun at brando, who was laughing maniacally, and fired but it also turned into stone before the bullet came out at the same time that his arms and hands did.

soon, his head began to turn into stone as well. his eyes turned to stone last and the last thing he saw was the bird perching on brando's shoulder and the old man giving the bird a treat...