Phasmophobia Cursed Objects Novels & Stories

I cursed myself internally, lowering my gaze for a second, " Keep your mouth shut." He watched me intently, his gaze never leaving me alone. It felt suffocating under those red eyes, as though he could see through every lie I tried to tell. Yet strangely, despite his intimidating presence, there was no real anger on his face. If anything, he looked entertained. I took a deep breath and looked at him, " I don't understand why you called me your cure. I know that you are cursed. But I have no power or control over it, right? I am just a mere Omega living in this small world."

he groaned as he felt more pains at the back of his neck and more headache. "What is happening?" He muttered as his eyes began to ache too. Suddenly a mark appeared at the middle of his palm in ancient writings and since he could read ancient writings, he read them and his eyes popped out like an owl, as if they would fall off anytime soon. On his palm was boldly written in ancient writings, 'The cursed wolf'. He looked at Lydia and then at himself and then it dawned on him. Lydia wasn't the one who would break his curse. It was Jade and Lydia was the one to curse him more.

My wolf pushed harder with every second, restless and desperate now. Eager to see his mate. That realization only made my chest feel heavier. The pack estate finally appeared through the trees and my wolf didn’t even slow down before leaping over the gates. Warriors immediately lowered their heads when I shifted back. Something felt wrong immediately. The atmosphere inside the estate was tense. Servants stood around whispering nervously while some avoided looking directly at me. My chest tightened painfully. The moment I stepped into the hallway, Mira stormed toward me furiously. “You’re unbelievable!”

ZEPHYRINE's POV. I stood frozen, my mind reeling in shock. "Cursed!" someone shouted, and the word was taken up by others, echoing through the clearing. "She's cursed, she's cursed, she's cursed! I felt like I'd gotten the wind sucked out of me, that he had reached in and sucked everything from my insides out. The words cut deep, and a part of me couldn't help but wonder one question: Was it me? Am I cursed to have people around me die under these circumstances that are so mysterious?

Sienna licked her lips and she whispered, “Water… please give me some water…” Realizing that no one was around she cracked opened her eyes slightly but then shut it tight again. She hoped that she could keep her phobia of closed spaces at bay if she didn’t look around but it didn’t seem to work. She felt her hands become clammy once again and her breathing quickened. She tried to recall the feel of that man as he embraced her. This seemed to calm her down a bit. She took deep breaths and chanted, “Daniel must be waiting for my call… I have to get up and reach home.”

I tried again, clearing my throat to make my voice sharper. I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. "Hey," Caspian said from behind me, his voice heavy with exhaustion. I turned to face him, the bone clutched in my hand. He recoiled abruptly, letting out a sharp breath. "Light! Is that the bone from the basement?" "It is," I confirmed. "Physical contact with objects like that can bring misfortune to the holder," he warned, his face etched with worry.

"I don't know. I haven't tried non-directional contact." "Try it now." I turned my back to the object. Sixty feet. I found the current, extended the perception radially instead of directionally, and searched the courtyard. There. Behind me. The dark magic signature of the cursed object, clear as anything I had read at forty feet in the standard direction. I applied disruption. The object went dark. I turned around. Rowan was looking at the now-ordinary piece of iron with the thoughtful expression of someone doing probability calculations.

Remembering made me shudder. He gave me a sharp look. "You heard them? Felt them?" "I - Yes, I think so." I stepped closer to him, suddenly afraid. I knew nothing about where I was. Leo placed his hands on my bare arms. "Those are the Cursed. They are creatures who turned their backs on Polonias and the goodness of the magic in the land. They are like the demons of your world. Some are desperate for a way out of the darkness, while others seek to pull unsuspecting travelers in. They are the cause of the Sickness." He shook his head. "Did you understand them?"

The walk through the gardens should have calmed me, should have erased my frustration, but it did not. Lanterns twinkled above the hedges and fountains, the air crisp and fragrant with late-summer blooms. My senses tingled with a strange unease. The wolf inside me whispered, small and insistent, trying to guide me, to warn me—but her voice was drowned beneath the roar of the curse, beneath centuries of witches' malice that tangled every instinct. The noise pressed in from every direction, leaving me dizzy, overwhelmed, barely able to parse what was danger and what was desire.

Suddenly, her body is wreathed in curling flames and my dog tags rise toward her scarlet breasts, straining on their beaded chain, forsaking gravity for her magnetism. The vision lasts for less than a second and then it’s gone. It’s Gemma again, only Gemma, her eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, face contorted with ecstasy, body wracked with tremors. She washes over me like a crashing wave, her sweaty hair falling in a curtain around my face. I catch a glimpse of something bronze on the dresser beyond the candles—a triangular spike with a demon-headed pommel protruding from a wooden base. The phurba.