Birth Is A Curse And Existence Is A Prison Novels & Stories

A knot formed in my stomach, tighter than before, and a chill ran down my spine. What if this was not exhaustion? What if this was not poison? Old words echoed in my mind—curses, bloodlines, consequences whispered like warnings. My breath caught painfully in my chest. If I were pregnant… If the curse was real… Then my body had already chosen a fate for us. And whether it was salvation or ruin growing inside me, I knew one thing with terrifying certainty— There was no turning back now.

“I begged the Moon Goddess for mercy. Every night, I prayed. I asked just to see them again. But she ignored me. So I burned her temple to the ground. I destroyed her altar. I cursed her name. And I meant it. I still mean it. She never answers when it matters.” He spread his arms wide, grinning with jagged teeth. “And she cursed me for it.” Silence filled the room. “She said I’d live forever. That I’d never die. That I’d carry this pain until I couldn’t even remember who I was mourning anymore.” Another step forward. “So I made a promise. If I had to live cursed, then so would everyone else. If I had to bear the pain, I’d make sure the world felt it too. I built this prison. This empire. Thi

"What about the life growing inside you?" I pressed my hand against my stomach, feeling the familiar flutter of movement. "My child will be free. That's all that matters. They won't have to grow up cursed like I did. They won't have to live in fear." Elias stepped closer, his eyes filled with tears. "Noah, please. There has to be another way. We can find one together." "There isn't!" I was crying now, tears streaming down my face. "I've looked everywhere. I've read every text. I've searched every archive. There's no other way. The curse demands blood. My blood. My child's blood."

She had looked at a helpless child, born of a mother's greed and a father's shame, and decided that my entire existence should be a masterclass in torment. "I curse you," I whispered, the darkness absorbing the vow like a sponge. "I curse the blood in my veins. I curse the day I was born. If I ever get out of this hole... if you ever give me a single fraction of a second of power... I will tear your world apart and I will change my fate,” my voice cracked. “...I will make every single one of them bleed for this." But the darkness didn't answer because the goddess was always quiet. It just grew colder and my eyes began to drift shut, my consciousness slipping toward the gray edge of death.

I don’t really understand what exactly it means since old people often use fancy and complicated words, like cult, slavery, jail and solitary confinement. So I went to the temple to ask Sister Cecelia about it. “Where did ye hear that, dear?” From the way she said it, I assumed it was a really bad word. “The house of Aaron,” I replied. “Ah,” she said, “as I thought”. Sister Cecilia sat me down then explained to me that most old people do not understand the beauty of simplicity and quiet life because they have chaos in their blood. We must pity them because in the time of Chaos, God had cursed every baby with a big void and emptiness inside them. That they would never be content. They will al

I remember, I overheard them saying something about an heir never being born. Crying won't solve anything now, especially knowing that I had already conceived. "Someone called Malicay." She said, "As a result, we would have to terminate the pregnancy before it grows. We can think of something while trying to plead with him to lift the curse. Otherwise you'd be just another failed test subject, once we've solved everything you two can create another one. Try to understand, the both of you cannot survive, it's either it or the both of you, you're young and have many years ahead of you, so you can just make another one." They're insane. They want me to go through what I went through once again,

CHAPTER 124: THE HUNGER OF THE NEW GOD The "Lagos-grit" had taught me that a birth is rarely a beautiful thing—it’s a bloody, violent struggle for air in a world that wants to keep you small. But this? This wasn't a birth. It was an awakening of a hunger so ancient, so primal, that the very air in the "Project Genesis" dome seemed to curdled into ash.

My child by Amilee will be lower than dust. All I here is the opening number to Act 2 of Miss Saigon, “They are called Bedou, the dust of life. Conceived in hell and born in strife.” My child will be born the dust of the life. Conceived in deception, born in hell. Amilee may not survive the birth. I will be a single father to a half-breed, their life will be impossible.

" Pearl explained Eliss in a go. It was the fact that's why it was hell not necessary for the them to be mated, so she could contribute her energy. Giving a birth is not that an easy task, it's more painful than being shift .The pain is so exceutiating that it kills you .Thats why it is also said the child birth is the second birth of women . Pearl herself wasnt ready for mating with Fire but for her cub she could do anything, this was just getting marked by him. Eliss was stunned by the sudden revelation .Though Pearl's word were slight weird but they made complete sense making her heart thump in fear.

Every day, I wished I had never been born. Though my body was a rare miracle — born with both a womb to nurture life and testes to create it — the gift had been no blessing. “Holy.” They whispered that word as if it was a crown, a mark of honor. Yet their so-called wisdom was nothing but a hollow relic from a world that had turned cruel and twisted. Greed and selfishness ruled now, and I was left to suffer for a fate I never chose. Was being born a Demon a curse? Was having the power of both genders a curse?