Cursed Writing Novels & Stories

Fresh tears blurred the words. “Do not tell him the truth.” “He will never believe you.” “The curse began three hundred years ago.” “Every man who truly loves a woman born with our blood…” ”…will slowly surrender his life.” ⸻ A tear landed on the page. The ink blurred slightly. ⸻ “The first kiss marks him.” “The second weakens him.” “The third binds his soul.” “After the seventh…” The sentence ended abruptly. The rest of the page had been burned away. ⸻

"My father once told me there was a specific volume containing the complete account of the curse." They searched for hours, flipping through fragile pages until their hands were blackened with dust. Finally, Adrian’s fingers brushed against an old, leather-bound tome. Embossed on its worn cover was the symbol of a wolf. "Cassian, look at this," Adrian called out, his voice trembling with a sudden rush of adrenaline. Cassian rushed over and carefully pried the book open. The pages were yellowed and brittle with age, but the text, written in an elegant, archaic script, was still legible. They began to read together, Cassian’s jaw tightening with every turned page.

“Tell me, Kade… what proof is greater than that? The cursed blood does not lie. It devours.” He leaned forward, his eyes glittered. “If the cursed blood beast once wiped a pack from the map… if it can kill everyone else, why not Lucien too? He may be a god to others, but he is still flesh. Still a shape that can be undone.” Riven’s fingers tapped, slow against the table.“You do not need spells or prophecies. The cursed blood itself is the weapon and when it meets steel, it births a wound no power can heal. The cursed blood turns metal into ravenous teeth.” His grin widened, savage. “Dip a blade in cursed blood and it will not merely cut… it will eat. It will find whatever makes him immortal

“There’s more. A refrain—half-burnt—but clear enough. ‘If the blood key resists, the curse magnifies, carried down each heir until marrow itself dissolves.’” The words lodged like ice in Zaria’s ribs. She wanted to laugh, to spit the curse back out, but her pulse betrayed her, hammering too hard. Lucien finally moved. His hand clenched the edge of the desk until the wood creaked. “Enough for tonight.” But Mara shook her head, eyes sharp. “Lucien. You can’t silence what’s already written.” ⸻

sign in Act One… Someone would take a sip before dawn. My stomach rolled. Because I’d seen these lines before. Not in a book I’d read. In something I’d written. Years ago, hunched over my laptop in bed at three in the morning, brain buzzing, I’d sketched out a story about a cursed aristocrat’s manor. I’d scribbled rules on the wall: *Don't drink what’s freely given. Don’t sleep alone. Don’t bleed on the king’s chair.*

"But Sir, isn't that a cheat?" "Hahaha, of course not. Because it's just my display in the mansion, right here in this room. It's like I have remembrance of you and even of your fellow students when you go home. So that I won't be sad when you're no longer here." Gregorio pretended to make his face sad. "Is that so," she said. "All right Sir," she also agreed. Can she still refuse? the painting is so beautiful then she will sign it. Alyssa began to write. She was just in the letter 'A' when the door suddenly opened.

He hesitates to answer. “Cursed.” He mumbles, I heard him, but I wanted to make sure it was really clear, “What?” “There’s a group referred to as The Enchanted. They are unnatural creatures that don’t really fit in anywhere. The subgroup for me is Cursed.” He seems upset by it, maybe that’s why he tries so hard to help people. If I was known as a Cursed person I’d want to do whatever I could to prove people wrong. I feel like I understand Corvu a little better.

Thus, I went from being a mother dressing up her son to a monster dressing him up to offer him to the powerful and crooked. Still, Rick never expected one thing. The psychiatrist I saw despised Arclight products. His older brother had been an Arclight engineer who died from overwork. Before he passed, he told the psychiatrist about the company's dark secrets. For years, the psychiatrist had been investigating and collecting evidence, but he never had the right opportunity to expose it until he met me. The real key was not what he said to me that day. It was the way he said it. He deliberately used a robotic tone, and at the end of his sentence, he mouthed the word ‘chip’.

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.”

, she said. "It's okay", I replied. She left leaving us in her living room. All the selves filled with books and glass bottles. It's the heritage of her ancestors. One book from self in blue hard cover caught my eye. I grabbed the book. The cover of the book fascinated me. 'The Cursed King' was written in golden cursive letters. Beautiful and ancient. I tossed the pages and started reading. 'Blood spilled all over the ground. Bodies lay lifeless. Houses burnt. Children crying.