The Story of how Luludjka became the Spirit of the Statue.

My name is Luludjka, and I was a gypsy girl who roamed the Bavarian forests with my clan like nomads in the desert. I was a virgin maiden then, and like all young, I too was in search of love. It was a time of war and we were caught between enemy lines. I did not think we would get out alive. Then I met an American soldier wandering in the woods, seeking his escape from the German enemy. I was hopelessly caught in a trap when this handsome hero rescued me, and I was immediately swept off my feet. We immediately fell in love, and he promised once we crossed the Italian border safely, he would take me to America with him.

Until he learned I was going to bear him a child. he grew greatly conflicted when confronted with this news. Then he turned cold as stone. He insisted if I loved him I must get rid of the unborn for his sake. I was devastated that it could mean so little to him. I had nowhere to turn, nobody else I could trust— even my mother, a dabbler in black magic, agreed I should not keep the child, I must do whatever he said so we could all sail to America together. I could bear him more children in the new world she said. I obeyed both of them. My mother took me into the Sabine hills known for its witchery. I visited the mountain woman there who lived on the edge of a cliff. She was known for her self-concocted spells, one which could snuff out small, unwanted beginnings. A disfigured woman, discolored and wrinkled like a dried out grape, but kind. She mixed me her potion to drink, told me to take just a small sip, said it would start the bleeding. When she wasn’t looking I drank it all. She caught me coughing violently. I heard her ask for mercy, not for herself—but for me! She prayed to the Mater Gloriosa, the divine virgin, to save me. Before I gave up my final breath she sent my essence into this statue, with a spell that promised to bind me close to the stirrings of this immortal who had caused me such grief until I should witness his last days. He has suffered one death already, of the flesh, but his final death is still to come.