Lucid Curse
Selena Collins leads an unremarkable life or so she believes. As an overworked and underpaid secretary at Vermillion Cyberspace, she’s long accepted the monotony of her days and the brooding presence of her enigmatic boss, Theo van Gogh.
But everything changes the moment she collapses from exhaustion and hits her head on his desk. Upon waking up in the hospital, she begins seeing things that shouldn’t exist... ghosts, demons, angels, and creatures that seem far too aware of her presence.
Then comes the impossible.
Theo visits her with a revelation that completely made her brain reboot. Theo isn’t just her boss now. He’s her familiar.
And Selena—confused, concussed, and utterly unprepared—is the next chosen successor of a forgotten land god.
Theo bows 90 degrees, coldly defiant. "I do not acknowledge you as my master. So if you die in the process of completing your missions, it would bring me joy."
Now thrust into a world where mythology bleeds into modernity and ancient contracts awaken from dormancy, Selena must uncover why she was chosen and survive long enough to earn her own name in a realm that remembers everything.
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Chapter: The Contract and the Seal Selena stared at her computer screen like it was slowly unraveling her will to live. The data wasn't making sense. The report was half-corrupted. Her email client refused to open unless offered blood or human sacrifice. But wors was the strange, slithering pressure blooming behind her forehead. Like a whisper made of static. Like something ancient knocking softly inside her skull. Her stomach twisted. Her chest tightened like an invisible hand was squeezing around her ribs. She blinked and gripped the desk. “Selena? Are you okay?” Nezumi’s voice floated in, concerned. Selena didn’t look up. “I’m… just lightheaded. I think the break room coffee is finally retaliating.” “Sit down and breathe,” Ericka muttered, glancing at her sideways. “We can’t have another incident. HR is already pretending to care.” Selena inhaled sharply and forced herself to stand, grabbing a thick stack of documents. She sighed. “No time. His Broodiness called for these again.” Nezumi winced. “Di
Last Updated: 2025-07-06
Chapter: The Ancient Wolf Spirit Yin was about to say something charming, mysterious, or potentially universe-shaking when Selena walked right past him. Not a pause. Not a double take. Not even the brief, respectful glance reserved for unusually beautiful strangers. She. Just. Walked. By.. It hurt not physically. Not emotionally. But cosmically. His narcissism took a direct hit. He froze, eyes wide. His hands hovered mid-dramatic gesture. “Did… Did she just…” Selena was already turning the corner. Yin looked down at his perfectly pressed designer suit woven by the gods themselves, then up at the fluorescent ceiling lights, as if they too should be ashamed of what just occurred. “Did she not see me and my godly beauty?” Yin whispered behind his clenched fingers, scandalized. “Has humanity gone blind?!” Yin made a wounded noise, but before he could chase after Zetian to deliver a monologue on what she just missed, his phone buzzed. The screen read: 🌬️ SHU: THE WIND GOD WITH DADDY ISSUES He sighed, answering
Last Updated: 2025-07-05
Chapter: Land God Successor“SELENA COLLINS! WHERE ARE THE DOCUMENTS?!” The walls of Vermillion Cyberspace trembled like they'd heard the voice of the apocalypse. An apocalypse wearing a black suit, brooding intensity, and enough passive-aggressive rage to power a small country. Inside his glass-walled office, CEO Theo van Gogh. Yes, that van Gogh—no, not the painter, but equally dramatic. He stood like an avenging spirit of corporate efficiency. Papers rustled in fear. Coffee machines in the break room paused mid-brew. Somewhere on the 11th floor, an intern dropped his mug and whispered, “He’s summoning her again.” Cue the flustered arrival of Selena Collins—overworked, underpaid, and currently balancing exactly nine folders, two iced coffees, and the crushing weight of capitalism on her narrow shoulders. “I—I’ve got them!” she gasped, bursting through the doors like a tornado of paper cuts and caffeine. A folder instantly betrayed her, exploding in a blizzard of quarterly reports across the polished
Last Updated: 2025-07-05
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