12 Causes Of Curses Novels & Stories

Lucien suddenly shoved me away and closed one hand around my throat. "Why should I believe you?" he said coldly. "If the curse is not contained, I may die. You risk nothing but a few shameless jokes. Are you a spy sent by the holy orders?" He released me, then searched me from head to toe with ruthless speed. "No one has ever neutralized my lust-curse," he said. "Every month, a hundred women must sacrifice their lives, or the curse tears me apart. What sorcery did you use to withstand it?"

Pause for the other side. Liz: “Our situation is that Dust Bowl is being annually affected by an incredibly strong instance of curse magic, strong enough to be Class A reality warping. The curse is fully psychocreative, bringing into existence the regrets, mistakes, sins, and failures of the local populace, and also any visitors in town during the week of the year that the curse is active.” Pause for the other side. Liz: “We are concerned that since Agents of Control have had life experiences involving the paranormal, anomalous, and supernatural, that the curse’s psychocreative effects might bring into existence things from our past that would complicate things to a whole new level.”

“Is there a way to break it?” I blurted out. She was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, “There might be. But it would be nearly impossible.” My heart stuttered. “What do you mean?” “These kinds of curses can only be broken by destroying the original sources of power. When your ancestor performed the ritual, they would have used three specific artifacts as conduits. These artifacts would have absorbed the dark magic and become permanently linked to the curse.”

Just the smell of ozone and unfinished responsibility lingering in the air. Selena stood there alone, blinking at the decaying altar while water from the storm began trickling across the stone floor like it was staging a coup. Her eye twitched. Her soul twitched. Her lower back twitched because she’d landed like a sack of wet laundry. God knew she tried. She recited every spell she vaguely remembered from internet rabbit holes. “Abracadabra,” “Leviosa”—not “Leviosar,” she corrected herself mid-prayer—and even, in desperation, “Escucha las palabras de las brujas, los secretos escondidos en la noche...” while raising her hands like she was in a soap opera for witches.

“No. You don’t get to make us victims of your stupidity. You gambled, you drank, you destroyed. Don’t you dare lay this at our feet.” But her words wavered, for she knew they were already bound in this mess. Kate’s voice, raspy and trembling, cut in. “The curse I put on Mathapelo—it was meant only for her legs, her strength. But when I spoke the words, they… spread. I think that’s why everything is unraveling. Why death walks closer every day. Curses are never clean—they stain everyone they touch.” Sandra turned on her sharply. “You mean to tell me we’re suffering because of your envy?”

Because honestly, I didn’t even know where to begin. A curse? It sounded like something ripped from an old fairy tale or one of those ridiculous documentaries about haunted families. It made no sense. I didn’t believe in curses. I never had. There had to be a reason behind all this—something logical, something explainable. Curses don’t just appear out of nowhere, choosing a single bloodline to torment. And then have a loophole in the long run.

Every act of violence between species, every moment of prejudice and fear, every instance of love that crossed supernatural boundaries. The intensity is overwhelming. I try to pull back, retreating into my own mind, but Mira's voice cuts through the chaos. "Don't retreat. Process it. Understand it. This is the emotional foundation that curses are built upon." I force myself to stay open to the surge of supernatural memory and gradually begin to understand what she means. Curses aren't just magical constructs. They're emotional weapons designed to exploit the deepest fears and traumas of their targets. Kael's curse, I realize, wasn’t just meant to keep him in animal form. It was designed to m

Ri'elle has read most every spell book here, and he left without even looking for and answer in here, to me that means he must think the answer is not here. I will check for anything useful anyways, but I must not get my hopes up too high. I take down an intimidating looking book on the origins of curses and sit down on the floor, leaning up against the bookshelf it was on. There are many types of curses, some are simpler, they involve bring bad crops for the harvest season, or causing a womans fingernails to grow too fast, or to not grow at all. Then there are stronger curses causing painful boils to appear on an enemies body, or cause someone to lose their memory.

Marco asked If he was really interested in what will happen next. "He chose to kill himself," sister Clarity said. "What if the guy can't die? What if he will never die?" Ken asked with a stern voice. "What do you mean Mr Hendrix?" Sister Clarity's brows crossed. "I mean what if that was cursed of Lucifer to him? What If he was cursed to live forever so that he'll suffer forever, watching the woman he loves die repeatedly." My brows crossed. I heard a pinch of pain in his voice or maybe I was just delusional. Plus his idea made me more confused and curious about the two angel's love stories.

Live with a girl? "No. We can immediately shoot today if you want. But not with the matter of living together. I can not," said William firmly. "Wil-" said Ethan trying to calm him down. "What? You know I can't live with other people, right?" And Ethan could only nodded slightly. He just remembered, besides being an actor, William is also a werewolf who can change when the night of the full moon arrives. "I think it's too much to live together," said Ethan helping William.