Bnha Cursed Images Novels & Stories

A heavy silence settled between them before Rian spoke. “Bhaiya,” he murmured, his voice low, “you know this is the work of a Cursed, right?” Ishaan’s jaw tightened. He nodded. “I just need to find out which Cursed it is.”

Big and dangerous that will no doubt have grave consequences for us all. Especially the one who has hired us all to this Facility. He is mad with a desire for eternal life. He has mages visit us sometimes to do different experiments on the Subject. What they do to him is beyond me. It sometimes appears back in its room with strange black markings on its body. After a few days though; the markings just disappear. This place fills me with dread, and I don’t know how much longer I can continue to work for these kinds of people. The work here greatly tests one’s faith in God.

I couldn’t ignore the pull I felt toward it. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the familiar pull of the dream’s images. The woman, the crown, the forest, and the shadowy figure. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes of them, pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve. It was as if there was a message, something I needed to understand, but the more I reached for it, the further away it seemed to drift. I had to know what it meant.

When we stepped inside again the light caught something floating across the room. Sparkling dust. Silver wolfsbane. It coated everything. Like poisonous glitter. I looked up the ladder. “Terrence. Karissa. Go up. See how much is up there.” They nodded and started climbing. I gestured to Bella. “Outside.” She left immediately. Minutes passed. Finally Terrence’s voice came through the mind link. You want the good news or the horrifying news? Just tell me. The most budget-friendly way to kill a werewolf pack in history.

"You don't know? Those photos are trending everywhere now. The company's stock is plummeting. So, tell me, James, what are you going to do about it?" His face turned ashen, and he looked at me with a mix of desperation and helplessness. "What do we do? What do we do? I'm sorry, I swear I don't know anything about this." I picked up my phone leisurely, taking my time to scroll. "The silhouette in these photos... that's Jess, isn't it?" "Yes, yes, that's Jess!" His agreement came too quickly, his panic all too evident. "These unscrupulous media outlets are making things up! Babe, my heart belongs only to you, I swear! Don't believe their lies!"

That was the problem with The Cursed; they died before we could do any proper research on it and their bodies turned to ashes, leaving us grappling at nothing. There was one thing we knew about the cursed: they were betas that were demon-possessed. All of them had a pentagram, a sign of demon possession, on the bottom left side of their necks. It explained why betas suddenly had power and strength that could par with an average alpha. “Did you find out anything about it? Where did it come from? Who it was?” “Yes, we managed to get that. Just like the others, it was a beta, Joe Blake from Jannah.”

The image changed and it was a picture of what looked like a man with white long hair and glazed over white eyes. The words next to the picture were Warlock. I counted ten skulls under the word threat assessment. "Warlocks exist too?" I gasped. "The things of storybooks are not simply just myth and legend. Just because you don't see them it doesn't mean they are not there," he explained. "This creature cursed me," he said through gritted teeth and then he changed the image on the monitor again. "He cursed me to become this disgusting creature," he spat. I turned my eyes to the screen to see a big obsidian wolf with red glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth. My breath caught in my throat. "Why d

Burhan whispered to Aryadi's wolf form. Aryadi growled and muttered his answer using his mind. “That's what makes Hugo called the Cursed, Burhan. He obtained the form of an immortal being fraudulently and in an unusual manner, which was extremely improper. Then the form he could be even more terrifying than it should be. Burhan's head chuckled. “Before that … who was he in the first place?” Aryadi growled again. “Human. He's just an ordinary human … with a mind as mad as a real devil.”

The plain cover hid the pages and pages of pictures Kiana had found in her explorations into the darker side of the internet. Halfway through she found the high-resolution black-and-white photographs she adored, the ones with a pair of red lips barely touching the head of a stiff c*ck or a woman pushed down onto a plush bed by a man taking her from behind. Often she had fantasies develop around these pictures, ones she typed down for her blog – ones she brought with her to bed late at night. She looked at a picture of a tall strong man holding a limp and naked girl in his burly arms, his face hidden by the shadow as he held his prize before him. Claimed by him.

Fennigan and Jax stood there in the quiet office, the sound of their mother's broken, weeping whispers completely shattering the last of their own armor. The pile of glossy photographs seemed endless, a documented timeline of pure psychopathic obsession. Elana’s trembling fingers moved past the teenage faces, blindly reaching for the next stack of decrypted images. But as she pulled them closer, the breath completely left her lungs. These images weren't of older boys. They were smaller. So much smaller. She stared down at the starkly lit, fluid-filled suspension tanks. Floating in the sterile liquid were tiny, perfectly formed bodies with familiar silver-tipped hair and the unmistakable Blac