Cursed Spirit Novels & Stories

Years ago, a witch cast a prophecy over me. She said I was the cursed wolf, an abomination who would bring the pack to ruin. My parents believed it completely. Locked me in the cellar that same night and left me to starve. My older sister, Sia, fought like hell to keep me alive. When the pack came for me, she stood in front of every single one of them, crying as she tried to shield me. "She's not an abomination. She's never hurt anyone." Because of those words, when the Alpha fell for her but still feared me, that so-called abomination, I volunteered for exile. Walked away from the pack forever. Before I left, I gave Sia a charm. Told her, if anyone ever laid a hand on her, just speak into i

Dressed in black with yellow lights escaping from its eyes, it pulled out its sword from the sheath before Rogue could react and went through her. Rogue fell down to the ground but no blood escaped her body as the spirit came out with a wailing smoke before it sliced it to absolute nothing. Sam stood up and faced the spirit before he stretched his hands open towards the spirit. “Kono noroi de min’na o sukutte kudasai… Omisan.” Samuel requested as he bowed his head to the spirit before he raised his head. (Please save everyone with this curse.) “Anata o fukumete, haiburiddo-san?” The spirit asked and Samuel nodded. (Even you, hybrid?)

It was almost nine in the evening. “A curse,” he muttered, shaking his head, walking to his small kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water. “If the curse really existed, maybe he could help me with my data analysis assignment.” Siron chuckled to himself. Humor was his shield, always had been. Since childhood, he had been raised in fear of a Morat, a vengeful spirit betrayed by their royal ancestor, who swore to hunt every male descendant of their bloodline. But to Siron, it was all nonsense. He lived in the modern age, in GreenDolt, a city that, though steeped in legend, still functioned normally. There was no place for ghosts or shapeshifters in his life.

The curse was alive, aware, and it was hungry for more than mere obedience. --- Kael’s voice softened, though his eyes never left hers. “You were born under the Blood Moon. That alone made you special, but you were also marked by destiny. The same deity that cursed my bloodline foresaw your arrival. Your magic, your resilience… it is intertwined with mine. The bond is not just a tether. It is prophecy. You are the one who can stabilize the curse, who can survive it where others would be consumed. And I… I am bound to ensure you endure it.”

“But the curse was tied to your blood covenant. It is rooted in both of your souls. The spirit can enter you. It can enter the child. Removing it would kill all of you.” My stomach twisted. “So what do we do?” I asked. “Break the spirit,” Drake answered. “Sever its connection entirely. Before it becomes too powerful.” Jake snorted. “Great. So all we need to do is kill a centuries-old curse manifestation. Easy.” Lucas rested his hand over mine again, grounding me. “Rose… we’ll handle it. I won’t let anything touch you or the baby.” Before I could answer, a knock came at the door.

“The cursed spirit is a living entity with thoughts and emotions no different than a human. You can't directly control her thoughts, but because she would be willing to do anything to get that necklace back, that's why she does our bidding.” I turned back to face him. His hair was longer, making the youthful features of his face more prominent. We were agemates, but I was always told I looked like his older brother, which usually made me laugh because we didn't even look alike. My hair was dark like nightfall, his was a bright sunny blonde. My eyes were dark brown, and his, green. “So aren't we going to use her? Isn't that why I took the risk of stealing this

Vera began, “John’s grandfather made a deal with an unclean spirit. He was desperate for power back then... too desperate to realize what he was inviting in. That spirit needed a clan, specifically one blessed with strong spiritual lineage. And the Xaviers were exactly that.” She glanced at her glass, then continued. “In exchange for power, the spirit took hold of their strength. It twisted it. Now, every generation of Xavier is cursed, always craving more power, never satisfied. It’s why they look down on the weak. They can’t help it... unless a destined one intervenes, or by some miracle, the curse is broken. Otherwise, they’ll always trample the fragile to feed that hunger.” She blinked s

Atrocious replied, rubbing an orb on the armrest of his chair. "Reveal? What do you have to reveal?" Draco raised an eyebrow, realizing that it must be serious if Atrocious was acting this way. Atrocious was never one to think or worry so much about anything and when he does, it meant it was something to be taken very seriously. Atrocious sighed heavily, picked up the orb, and muttered a spell. The orb became surrounded by a mist of emerald color, and an obscure figure appeared within it. "It's a curse. Your brother, the Alpha King, is cursed."

“Our wolves didn’t form properly, so we can’t shift. We are cursed…bad omens. Bad things happen to our packs when we’re around.” “Actually, no…It’s quite the opposite,” I say softly, and gently push her away. Holding her is becoming too painful, and I know that if I hang on much longer, I will never let her go again. I turn sideways, ignoring the way the rough bark scrapes against my skin, and stare into her eyes. “Spirit wolves are not a curse. A pack blessed by The Goddess will also be blessed with many spirit wolves.” “Eh?” she asks. “No. A lot of bad shit’s been happening to Hallowed Moon and it’s my fault.”

They hadn’t expected that the lurking force was actually an evil spirit. The term "evil spirit" sounded deeply malevolent, and for good reason. Evil spirits were dark, corrupt entities that absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Their primary sustenance came from feeding on the power of beasts and humans, disrupting the natural balance. These spirits were often the lingering remnants of beings—whether beasts, humans, or others—who had died but failed to fully disappear. They had instead turned into malevolent beings. Tyron and the Violet Rain Bird's expressions darkened. The former looked at Adrian, feeling helpless. “This lurking creature seems to be at the Divine Stage, on par