As always, characters are over 18 and this story was written without generative AI.
What if Lovecraft wasn't as scared of sex as he was of everything else? As is often the case in horror, things aren't spelled out directly, but keep your wits about you and all shall become clear. Also, in case you're worried: I promise it's not scary.
The artifact was made of cold, pale gray stone, and stood just taller than the professor and I. Its surfaces were smooth and gently flowing, carved into a sculptural form that was immediately recognizable. As an academic, I was trained to discard the vulgar labels that immediately and involuntarily still came to mind; instead decorum required classifying the object as being associated with "fertility".
Professor Sonia Hodges was one of Miskatonic University's first female professors. She was also my thesis advisor. I must insist that I was drawn to her on account of her work: reconstructing a nearby coastal village that had unaccountably vanished in the late 1920s, as well as investigating peculiar ruins in the Antarctic said to be thousands of years old. Only in the past few years have academics admitted (publicly, at least) that both of these phenomena cannot be fully ascribed to our species. However, the familiar anatomy (though, to me, sadly not familiar enough) of the artifact that now sat in the dimly-lit basement of Greene Hall suggested a different, more human origin. At least at first.
I say this to assure you that it was not on account of Professor Hodges' appearance that I agreed to study under her. I should be equally content to work with a neckbeard-and-tweed gentleman as with an unmarried woman in her late 30s, with short auburn hair and glasses that accentuate a slim, milk-white face. It is imperative that you know that the professor kept her generously-proportioned bust properly concealed beneath undergarments and a white button-down shirt as befits her position. Her position on top of me. And so it should be unsurprising that we comported ourselves with dignity and rigor, despite being alone in the presence of this decidedly female object.
The professor was explaining how she had recently acquired the artifact, how it had been transported to its current location under a shroud to deflect the attention of giggling undergraduates, and that it had arrived remarkably intact despite its transfer through multiple handlers and governments. I drank this information in through the flowing milky melody that was her voice. My eyes returned to the artifact, with its folds and ridges, undulations and lips, and towards the bottom a cavity large enough for a person to crawl into. My eyes lazily drifted upward to an empty spherical space beneath an outcrop.
I pained me, almost physically, to interrupt my professor's monologue, but this matter warranted her attention. In suitably indirect fashion, and not without some blushing, I drew her attention to the recess in the object that, based on analogy to my limited experience with the relevant structures, ought to be filled by a particular nub of tissue of some importance. Professor Hodges grasped my intimations, and ran her hand along the concave stone surrounding the empty volume. She concurred with me on its perfect sphericity, and furthermore, that there did not appear to be any damage indicating that stone was missing from the artifact as it now existed.
"Could the missing cli, err, clinically appropriate tissue have been made from some other material?" I asked.
My professor thought for a moment, and then her hazel eyes lit up behind her glasses. She excitedly began to rummage through other artifacts stored in the dusty basement. After a few minutes her search alighted upon an object draped over with a dull cloth. She removed the cloth with a flourish to reveal a perfect orb of red granite, polished smooth. "This from the same civilization as the large artifact, and it looks like it's the perfect size, too," she said. I rushed over to help her lift the new object.
It was warmer to the touch than I expected, and it was still heavy despite four hands underneath it. The professor and I faced each other and walked sideways towards the large artifact. At first, even the two of us could barely lift the granite sphere, but then the task became imminently more bearable. A peculiar heat began to emanate into my hands from the orb, and it seemed to be drawn to where my hands touched the professor's, as an, I assure you, unavoidable consequence of our task.
We approached the original sculpture, and I observed that the sphere was not nearly so burdensome as I should expect. Raising the object into the cavity required scarcely any exertion, as the sphere seemed to jump out of our hands into its place, where it remained contrary to the suggestion of gravity. Instead the orb began to emanate scarlet light that illuminated the surrounding sculpture. The stone itself gained a reddish hue, akin to granite or certain sandstones, but with a slightly transparent quality as of marble, or perhaps even ruby. Owing to this clarity, we saw that light seemed to spread not only on the surface but also coursed through the artifact in pulses. I also noticed that it had begun to radiate a large amount of heat.
"Oh Howard, that was brilliant!" bubbled my professor, her cheeks rosy with delight. And then her vermillion lips approached, and gave me a peck on my cheek.
My attention returned when I noticed that the statue was emitting a pulsing, thrumming noise. I looked again and saw that much of the exterior surface of the sculpture was covered in the sheen of a thin layer of liquid. I was about the raise this concern with my professor when the floor beneath the artifact began to glow the golden orange hue of a spectacular sunset. The light was, impossibly yet undoubtably, coming from the passage at the base of statue.
