Operation table

The shadow opened a zipper in the center of its chest. With one hand caked in dark mud, it pulled out a still-beating mass and placed it on the table.

It consulted a couple of books to confirm the markings, then began lighting candles along the edges of the table.

White paint marked the surface—lines and circles intersecting according to the diagrams in the books, positioned by the alignment of stars and planets.

From top to bottom, the planets formed the outline of a skeleton. At its center rested the beating mass.

The clock struck midnight. All the candles extinguished at once. With the final chime, the smoke rising from their wicks reversed, flowing downward until the candles reignited.

The wood of the table began to change where the planetary skeleton was drawn.

Like a blister forming beneath skin, the wood swelled upward, shaping a body and lifting the beating mass with it.

The shadow stepped back, watching from a safe distance, books still open in its hands, checking that the process unfolded as described.

Where the head should have been—at the final planet—a mouth formed beneath the wood. A silent shriek escaped the unseen transformation.

Arms began to rise along the sides of the skeleton, still trapped beneath the surface. The table stretched and warped like chewing gum.

Twelve minutes past midnight, the beating mass sank into the wood.

The creature bent and contorted beneath the table’s surface, reaching and recoiling, its movements erratic and strained.

Turning its head toward the shadow, the eyeless creature opened its mouth and screamed without sound once more. It stretched a hand toward the shadow—pleading—before collapsing back into its twisting agony.

The shadow watched, alarmed. None of the books had mentioned this much pain. Unsure whether the ritual was succeeding or failing, it flipped through pages, then discarded them in frustration.

Darkness from the mass began staining the table, spreading and deepening in color.

The creature’s movements slowed—not from relief, but as if it were running out of air. Still fighting, but growing heavy, weaker as the stain expanded.

The shadow seized another book—old, dusty, neglected—and began reciting its words.

Dark smoke poured forth, wrapping the table and funneling into the creature’s open mouth.

The shadow raised its voice.

For a moment, the table flattened completely. Then the creature lifted, suspended, stretching the wood without breaking it—like something dropped from great height but never allowed to fall.

The shadow continued reading.

The creature sank back to the table, motionless.

The stain vanished. The table’s center matched the color of the original mass. The creature’s mouth opened wide, releasing all the smoke at once before it dissipated into the air.

A subtle rise and fall—breathing—moved the creature as it lay still.

The shadow approached and placed a hand over the lifting section of the table.

Suddenly, the creature turned and seized the shadow’s hand, stretching the wood as it grasped.

The shadow did not flinch. Staring into the blank space where eyes should have been, it spoke a word from the book.

The hand withdrew, sinking back into the planetary pattern. The creature’s mouth opened silently again, prompting the shadow to speak the next word, freeing its hand.

The creature remained still, watching, as the table’s breathing quickened.

The shadow placed its hand over the surface once more and spoke again. The wood peeled away like scales, rising into the air as ash.

Beneath it was skin.

The creature writhed, mouth still open, trying to stop the process. As the peeling reached its mouth, a sound emerged—no louder than a whisper.

Where the table had been, there was now the body of a man.

The shadow closed its eyes and spoke another word. The man’s eyes turned to smoke and drifted upward.

The shadow covered the body with a cloth from a nearby table and spoke again. A piercing ring filled its ears, then vanished.

Placing a hand over its own chest, the shadow spoke the final word.

It collapsed. As it hit the ground, it dissolved into smoke, leaving only its clothes behind.

Inside the man, the dark mass reshaped itself into a heart. The transformation lifted his body briefly into the air before dropping it back onto the table.

A thin wisp of smoke escaped his eyes as they opened.