Scary Cursed Images Novels & Stories

This was the punishment. At some point, green smoke crept in without warning. The temp plummeted. I shivered, and he slipped off his cloak, wrapping it around me. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. Afraid? Not even close. My perception glitch had me kind of... hyped. "They're back!" Mia yelled. "Grandpa and Grandma are back!" The door creaked open. Two shriveled elders shuffled in. Chat Feed went wild: [It's them. The revenants. Nobody survives past this.]

I'm a mutant-an impending bomb-a danger to my pack. The whispers of 'Born unclean, Threat to self / society,' still follow me. On my face, but also on my flesh, my body littered with scars from my time as their prisoner, their brand. Once each new crescent, and my strength explodes with little care of what it destroys.

My eyes land on the dents in the headboard. My fingers curl slightly. Two weeks. Two weeks until the full moon. A slow unease creeps under my skin. The nightmares always come. They’ve followed me my whole life — flashes of pain, running, desperation clawing at my chest. By morning they fade into fog, but the exhaustion never lies. They’ve been getting worse. More frequent. More… vivid. Mother always says the full moon is when the most evil walks the world. Seanna Morgan prefers science. Logic.Something explainable.

I said firing back with the same energy but mine wasn't anger, it was pain, hurt and fear. “Okay fine if you believe others than me then this mate bond or whatever has no use” He said with gritted teeth. The look in his eyes scared me. Fear crawled into my chest. The fear of been unwanted again, the fear of been reduced to nothing again, the fear of losing what's mine to someone else again. And suddenly I understood why tonight felt strange. Why the pack elders were all present. Why everyone kept staring. Why Margaret looked so confident. “Arnold…” My voice cracked slightly. “You’re not going to reject me… are you?” My eyes stung will tears that are threatening to gush down my face.

she retrieves a photograph from the untidy pile, placing it down on the table triumphantly. I glance over towards the presented image, nervously licking the dry skin on my lips as the familiar illustration causes my stomach to twist on sight. A cold shiver runs down my spine as I study the image once more, a spark of terror-filled surprise breaking across my face as I swallow down the rising anxiety trying to escape from within me. I feel my body begin to fill with dread as the haunting images stare back at me, haunting me once again while the shadowed woman duplicating herself before the moonlight kneels brazenly for us all to see. How the hell is this linked to me? “I really hope it's not…

Just a couple seconds of closing her eyes. Tamara sat there for a moment. The dream had been so real and now she wondered if it was some kind of warning associated with the images. Obviously it was a warning, but she meant that the woman wasn’t real but a construct, designed to show up when the wall was tampered with. anyone associated with it would dream of her. That sounded like a curse to Tamara. Looked like she had a call to make to Max, just in case. Curse, just like she thought damn it. This one seemed very dangerous if it could reach across continents and Tamara had only seen images. God she hoped Max was okay. Curse, just like she thought damn it. This one seemed very dangerous if i

The words from my mouth were cursed. Anything I said came true. When I was eight, a child trafficker broke my right leg. I stared at him and said, "You made me limp, so I'll make you limp too." A second later, steel pipes from an overturned truck went through both his legs. When I was twelve, a staff member at the orphanage stole my winter coat. I said to her, "You stole my warmth, so I'll give you the cold. You won't live past tonight. Ice will be your coffin." That night, she passed out drunk in a walk-in freezer and froze to death. Then the wealthy Shaw family found me and brought me home. However, I knew I was a monster, so I kept my mouth shut and acted like I was mute. But

The first scream tore through the courtyard like a blade. Lila’s head jerked toward the sound—one of Cole’s warriors, ripped apart by something that moved faster than any wolf she’d ever seen. The shadows poured in from the treeline, hundreds of them, crawling on all fours with eyes that burned like coals. Their bodies were twisted, their shapes wrong—half-wolf, half-nightmare. The curse had taken form. Cole stumbled to his feet, dragging Lila up with him, his breath ragged. The rain still fell, but it did nothing to wash away the blood or the stench of rot spreading through the air.

His silence weighed heavy, his thoughts a storm I could not see. For a while, I welcomed the silence. Bits of images I couldn’t make sense flashed in my head—images of the glowing symbols, of the twisted creature, of the figure cloaked in shadow. They were like shards of a nightmare puzzle, missing pieces, lying more disorganised than usual. But one thing was sure, the curse was not some joke. It was alive and it had its sights on us. “Do you think we’re safe now?” The silence was broken by Jameson’s voice.

My stomach tightens. Something’s wrong. A strange dizzy spell assails me and I sway on my feet, clutching the metal frame of the bed for balance. The vision hits me out of nowhere, sending me straight to my knees. Goosebumps rise on my skin and the world becomes a blurry mess. Images of three gigantic Lycans attacking a lone wolf invade my subconscious. The wolf screams and howls in pain, but the Lycans ignore him, biting and tearing at his flesh until nothing is left.