You walked through the statue gardens, taking it all on. Usually, on days like that one, it was crowded and filled with noise, but you could hear nothing but the quiet trickle of the fountain.
You'd always snicker at how melancholy the gardens were-- the statues were usually in a surprised pose, or screaming, or simply just afraid for their lives.
Most of them came from an old sculptor who lived in the neighborhood, and who was a major contributor to the gardens in the first place.
There are still numerous empty pedestals, presumably so that they could be filled in as the sculptures were completed over time.
You came to a rest, setting your arms on the fountain, and you almost fell in when a voice pleasantly chirped behind you.
"Good afternoon," she said, her voice croaky yet warm. This was the face you'd seen on the little pamphlets for the garden.
She was wearing a veil and a long black evening dress, rather looking more like funeral attire than anything, but she still seemed to match the surroundings.
She moved with a serpentine grace towards you, almost seeming to catch you in her gaze.
"Say..." she whispered, seeming to examine you for a second. "Strike a pose. You might make good statue material."
"Y-you mean," you squeaked, slightly embarassed, "that you'll make a statue of me?"
"Of course, dear," she said. "Give me something...."
A smile twitched at her face.
"Give me something peppy, excitable."
Anxiously, you strike a pose in that part. She grins, revealing fangs, and before you can react she lifts her veil. You're frozen in place, realizing your body is stone.
You cannot move, and you cannot speak, but you can see everything.
"Hm," she titters, examining your statue from all angles, "maybe next time I should wait to reveal myself a little longer."
You scream internally as she lugs you to another podium, moving with surprising strength and speed despite being so old.
Finally, with a huff, she sets you in her place and with a gentle smile she returns home.
You watch solemnly from the podium as she vanishes from the distance, and for many more years.