7 October 2025, @mariannewest's Freewriters Writing Prompt Day 2883: the tenth layer
This is my first post under the freewriters sub, im not new to wrtiting, i just want to hone my writing skills as best as i can.
Etinosa, a young sculptor from Benin City, Nigeria inherited his grandfather’s old bronze tools, with vivid inscriptions in the long-forgotten witch language of Benin, with every sculpture he made, he had nine layers of wax and metal, just like the old tradition, a tradition that had become law. Until one day he tried adding a tenth layer, and something strange happened the statue’s eyes moved. He ran outside tripping over sculptures he'd made, ignoring the worrying artisans close to him that tried to enquire what had happened. Word spread. Buyers came from Lagos to Kampala, but Etinosa refused to even bargain much less sell.
Etinosa locked his workshop that night, but something drew him back to the workshop He stood before the statue (the one with eyes that moved) his hands trembling as the lamp flickered. The figure was that of a warrior, his face proud, his stance unyielding. But now, the eyes, those eyes glowed faintly like embers beneath the surface.E
Etinosa whispered, “Who are you?”
The workshop creaked, the wind blew ever so softly, even though all the windows were shut off. A whisper, almost like wind, brushed against his ear. “We have been waiting…” Etinosa stumbled backward, his lamp crashing to the ground. He ran again into the night, barefoot, almost out of breath and ragged.
That night, he did not sleep. Dreams came instead, bronze masks, a staff floating in darkness. At its base sat his grandfather, silent, with fiery eyes raged on and asked "Why did you open the 10th layer"? Three days after, the Oba’s emissary arrived. Word had reached the palace about Etinosa’s creation. They said the Oba himself had dreamt wanted the statue cos he believed it had juju powerss.
“You will bring the statue to the palace,” the emissary said firmly. “It belongs to the kingdom.”
Etinosa refused. “It does not belong to anyone. It… breathes, its eyes are alive”
The emissary smiled. “That is exactly why the Oba wants it.”
That night, Etinosa decided to bury the statue in the sacred grove behind his workshop. As he lifted it, The soil trembled. Trees seemed to bow. The statue’s eyes opened again, brighter than before. “The tenth layer is not for mortals,” it whispered. Etinosa froze, his heart pounding. “Then why show it to me?” he demanded. “Because you are not the first… and you will not be the last.”
Before Etinosa could move, the earth beneath him cracked open, The statue began to sink into it, pulling him along. The next morning, when the artisans came looking, they found the workshop empty except for Etinosa’s tools, arranged in a perfect circle. In the middle sat a new bronze sculpture a young man, eyes open, hands raised in awe, almost as if trying to crawl out of a sinking earth. And somewhere deep in Benin’s red soil, beyond the Ancient Benin walls a voice whispered again “The tenth layer has opened.”