Cursed Human Novels & Stories

It always happens whenever I'm scared. "Calm down, Cara, lest you reveal your powers to him," Hana whispers angrily. "If that happens we can kiss this place goodbye because we'll be thrown out as bad bloods." Bad bloods. Otherwise known as the Ruined, or the Cursed. The spoilt apples.

"The Alpha male of this bloodline made the grave mistake of mocking the feelings of a sorceress. With the heart of his one true love, I cast this curse. Any descendant of this bloodline who becomes romantically involved with a human will carry my mark. If children are conceived from such a union, they will be bound to the curse, and they will wither before their parents' eyes. My legacy will endure to punish the sin of your ancestor. With the death of the offspring, I shall return to life, spilling the blood of my betrayer's heir." I read those words several times until every detail settled in, then crushed the paper in my hand. "I had not understood what being involved with humans meant unt

I look back at the paper and unwrap it, finding a handwritten note with the heading; the cursed brothers and their doom. Curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself reading the rest of the note. “The three brothers were once human, they lived in 1700s before they were cursed by a powerful witch because of their evil deeds; they were the first werewolves to never walked the surface of the earth,” Suddenly, I feel like I'm reading something I shouldn't but again, curiosity wins and I read the rest of the note. “The spell was both a curse and a blessing. It gave them immortality, riches and the wealth they'd always desired but then came their doom in the form of a girl who is said bare the

Because the moment the curse left me and filled him, the man I once knew was gone. His body jerked. Twitched. Then twisted in ways that no human body should. His eyes rolled back. Veins blackened beneath his skin like black smoke. And something inhuman began to take form in his bones. What stared back at us from the altar was not Tervan. It was a husk—a vessel filled with the curse that had tormented my life and almost ruined me. He twitched once again. His eyes—no longer human—rolled in opposite directions, white and sightless. His mouth gaped open, leaking something black and thick down the sides. The stench of burnt magic and rotting souls curled in the atmosphere.

I sucked in a breath. Not from pain. From the way she touched me. For a second, neither of us moved. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something— Another horn blasted through the air. More hunters. I clenched my fists. “This isn’t over,” I said. She nodded, Before we could realise it, warriors came through. Elara immediately healed me and I shifted back to my wolf. This set if hunters were not able to shift. They were known as the cursed. Birthed by a werewolf but unable to shift. They remained human.

Tapping his chin, he mused aloud, “Ahh, a Fenrisúlfr, huh?” The name alone gave his fur a shiver—though he’d never admit that to Shu. “Big bad wolf of the old pantheons… chaos spirit of destruction… giant fangs… wrath issues… existential grudges against celestial bureaucracy…” Yin listed off gleefully, counting on his fingers like he was ordering pastries. He giggled. “Yes, scary man. Very scary. Damn scary. I want to meet him.” Because Yin, truly, was a menace in fluffy disguise.

Dear Lord Ralph, I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to inform you about the cause of your recent affliction. After conducting an experiment, we have discovered that the foul odor emanating from your person is not because of your impending demise, at least not for now. Instead, it is a symptom of a much more significant problem. I regret to inform you that as the direct recipient of the curse that is slowly vanquishing you. Every time you take a human life, you become more savage, and your deterioration speeds up. The odor you emit is also a byproduct of this process.

They were a mystery. “Are you cursed?” I ask, meeting his eyes in an instant. Damon seems to be a little taken back by my question but he covers it up with a chuckle, “No but my species are cursed. You can say that,” “Your species?” “Werewolves. Humans that can change into wolves,” He replies before clearing his throat, “We are all descendants of a cursed man. He was a human, an ordinary human, until one day he just . . . wasn’t.”

“Born as a son of a concubine he will surely suffer the cause of it as I lay my plan to make him the cursed child. With a nightmare of his reality, I can easily manipulate his mind. Send him to a place where he is destined to meet her, from the bond that will connect his fate to the other and towards her, which all humans call, ‘love’.” Disgusted by the word and its very meaning it. Where his mind reaches for that word as the cursed thing God ever gifted, and he deems it as the most stupid thing from everything for making anyone weak because of it. They contradict in that aspect as Gennevier dearly treasure that emotion, as he curses it in return, yet both of them have it in a twisted way to

Before I could react further, Jess grabbed a chair and struck me, knocking me unconscious. It was only after my death that I learned the full truth. They had always been a family—Jess, James, and his mother. Jess was never just his sister; she had been brought into the family as his betrothed, their "child bride," chosen by my mother-in-law long ago. I, and later my son, had merely been sacrifices to their shared ambition, pawns in their grand plan. The hatred that surged in me at that memory was relentless, uncontainable.