Blood Curse of the Shaman

That morning, the sun seemed dimmer than usual. The air was still filled with the lingering chill from the events of the previous night. Lucy couldn't erase the image of Malik transforming before her eyes. She knew Malik was not human. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her thoughts. But the tranquility did not last long.

An old woman knocked on her door. Her face was wrinkled, her eyes sunken as if she hadn't slept in ages.

"Lucy..." Her voice was hoarse. "I need your help."

Lucy frowned. "What kind of help, Ma'am?"

The woman glanced around, ensuring no one else was listening. Then, she stepped closer and whispered, "I want you to curse someone."

Lucy's heart pounded hard. "What?"

The old woman pulled out a crumpled photo from inside her clothes and showed it to Lucy. In the photo was a middle-aged man with a stiff expression.

"This man ruined my child's life," the woman's voice trembled with restrained emotion. "He drove my child insane, humiliated them, and now my child is lying in a hospital bed… I want him to feel the same suffering."

Lucy quickly shook her head. "No, I can't do that."

The woman grasped Lucy's hand tightly, as if afraid she would run away.

"I know you have power… The whole village knows," she whispered. "I can pay you, however much you want… Here… I have something for you…"

With trembling hands, the old woman reached into her bag and pulled out a small doll made of worn-out fabric and a golden nail. The doll's face was stitched with rough red thread, and there was a small hollow in its chest, as if waiting for something to be placed inside.

Suddenly, Lucy felt a strange aura engulfing the entire room. It was as if something dark was lurking behind the window.

"This is a voodoo doll," the old woman continued. "We just need a strand of his hair, and then you can recite this incantation…"

She handed Lucy a piece of paper filled with ancient Javanese script, its curving letters difficult to read.

Lucy felt the hairs on her arms stand on end as she looked at the spell.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said again, her voice firmer this time. "I've never done anything like this before."

The old woman looked frustrated. "But you must be able to! Aren't you the heir to your family's shamanic powers?"

"I will not harm others this way," Lucy insisted.

The woman snorted angrily and crumpled the spell paper in her fist. "Then you're just wasting your family's legacy."

With a look of disappointment, the woman turned and left without another word.

Lucy closed the door with trembling hands. But before she could steady her breath, a voice echoed from the corner of the room.

"You almost fell into their trap."

Lucy turned around. Malik was standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"They want you to use your power for revenge," he continued. "And once you start, you'll never be able to stop."

Lucy bit her lip. "Am I… really capable of doing something like that?"

Malik gazed at her deeply, then nodded. "Yes. But that's not the path you should take."

Lucy lowered her head, her thoughts in turmoil. She knew Malik was right. But what if, one day, she truly lost control? What if the anger inside her made her do something she could never take back?

***

That night, Lucy sat on her bed, staring at the ancient Javanese incantation given by the old woman. She didn't know why, but she couldn't bring herself to throw it away.

Rain poured heavily outside, cloaking the town in thick darkness. The wind whispered softly, slipping through the cracks of Lucy's window. She sat on the floor, in front of a small table, absentmindedly staring at the piece of paper.

In front of her, the voodoo doll given by the old woman lay motionless. Its blank face made her turn it over in her hands, but for some reason, she felt as if it was staring back at her. Beside the doll, the paper with the ancient Javanese spell looked clearer under the dim light of her lamp.

Her heart pounded, and an uncontrollable desire began to creep inside her to do something with the doll and the incantation.

Lost in thought, Lucy suddenly stood up and walked toward the kitchen, grabbing a knife. Then, without thinking, she continued walking, her mind blank, toward the back of the house where a black Cemani chicken was kept. She picked up the chicken and slowly walked back to her room, her eyes empty.

Suddenly, Lucy snapped back to reality, confused by what she was holding. Why was there a knife and a chicken in her hands?

At that moment, curiosity crept back into her mind.

"I just want to know… Can I really perform this ritual?"

Lucy took a deep breath. Hesitantly, she began reciting the incantation in front of her.

ꦒꦺꦩ꧀ꦥꦏ꧀ ꦒꦺꦧ꧀ꦭꦏ꧀ ꦆꦁ ꦊꦩꦃ ꦠꦸꦩꦶꦤ꧀ꦝꦏ꧀ ꦗꦺꦫꦸꦗꦶ ꦆꦁ ꦱꦱ꧀ꦮꦫ ꦭꦺꦴꦫꦺꦴ ꦒꦸꦤꦺꦴ ꦎꦗꦺꦴ ꦠꦔꦶ ꦗꦺꦤꦼꦔꦺ ꦱꦶꦫꦃ ꦭꦸꦩ꧀ꦥꦺꦴ ꦪꦺꦤ꧀ ꦠꦔꦶ ꦭꦺꦴꦫꦺꦴꦎ ꦪꦺꦤ꧀ ꦭꦺꦴꦫꦺꦴ ꦒꦺꦧ꧀ꦭꦏ꧀ꦎ ꦪꦺꦤ꧀ ꦒꦺꦧ꧀ꦭꦏ꧀ ꦩꦠꦶꦎ

(Gempak geblak ing lemah tumindhak jeruji ing sasworo loro guno ojo tangi jenenge sirah lumpoh yen tangi loro'o yen loro geblako yen geblak matio.)

The air in the room shifted. The dim light flickered as if someone was playing with the switch, and the candle on her table danced wildly, as if blown by an invisible wind.

A shadow on the wall moved on its own, as if something was watching her from the darkness.

Then, everything happened so fast.

Lucy felt a crushing weight in her chest. Her eyes rolled back, her breath hitched. Her head felt heavy, as if something was trying to take over her body.

"Don't stop…!!!"

A whisper echoed in her ear. A voice that wasn't hers. A voice that seemed to come from within herself.

Her hand moved on its own, picking up the black Cemani chicken beside her. The chicken struggled weakly, as if it knew its fate was sealed.

Without hesitation, Lucy raised the knife and, with one swift motion

'CRAKKKKK!'

She slit the chicken's throat.

Black blood spurted out, flowing onto the voodoo doll in front of her.

Something inside her… changed.

Her once-normal eyes glowed with a fiery red light, as if the flames of hell had seeped into her soul. Her body convulsed violently, her head tilting back, mouth agape, yet no sound came out.

'Lucy was possessed'

Her blood-stained hands clenched the doll tightly, her nails piercing through the tattered fabric until it tore. Her lips moved on their own, chanting words she didn't understand, and she had lost all control over her body. The blood from the sacrificed chicken smeared across her face, then down to the floor, as if she were dancing drawing something with the crimson liquid.

A symbol took shape a circle with an inverted star.

From the shadows, darkness began to gather, forming indistinct shapes. One by one, unseen entities emerged from the sigil Lucy had unknowingly created, surrounding her. She was no longer aware of her actions no longer in control.

Suddenly, the door to her room was flung open.

"BRAAAAKKK!!!"

As if an unseen force had shattered the malevolent aura in the room, the suffocating heat vanished, replaced by an eerie, bone-chilling cold.

Lucy collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. The unnatural glow in her eyes faded back to normal, but her face remained smeared with blood. Her hands trembled violently, as if she had just touched something beyond human comprehension.

At the doorway stood Malik.

His eyes were sharp, his jaw clenched, his expression a storm of fury and disappointment.

"You just opened a door that should've stayed shut, Lucy."

His voice was deeper than usual, almost otherworldly.

Lucy stared at him, her vision blurred with unshed tears. She wanted to speak, to explain, but no words came out. She **knew** she had made a grave mistake.

But what terrified her more… was the feeling that something inside her had changed.

The room remained thick with an unnatural chill. Malik stood rigid at the threshold, his gaze piercing into Lucy, who was still sprawled on the floor, breathless and shaken. Blood from the black chicken coated her hands, dripping onto the eerie, blood-soaked effigy in front of her.

"You've gone too damn far this time, Lucy." His voice was cold, firm.

Lucy lifted her head, eyes wide with fear and confusion. Her heart pounded violently in her chest. She wanted to deny it, to say it was just an experiment, but deep down, she knew she had crossed a line.

"BRAKKKKK!!!!"

A loud bang echoed through the house the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut. Rushed footsteps stormed down the hallway.

"Lucy! What the hell did you do?!"

Uncle Wiryo appeared in the doorway, his face twisted in a mix of shock and barely contained anger. His breath came in ragged gasps, as if he had sprinted from another part of the house after hearing the commotion.

His eyes widened as they took in the horror before him the overwhelming stench of blood, Lucy's disheveled, bloodstained form, the cryptic symbol scrawled onto the floor in dripping red… And in the center of it all, Lucy sat pale and trembling, while Malik loomed behind her, standing like a guardian prepared for battle.

"Lucy… what the hell did you do?" Uncle Wiryo's voice was tight, laced with disbelief and frustration.

Lucy parted her lips, but nothing came out. Her throat felt constricted, as if something wouldn't let her speak.

Uncle Wiryo stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the grotesque, bloodied doll before returning to Lucy with a dark, knowing look.

"Do you even realize what you just did?" His voice was cold.

Lucy gave a tiny, weak nod. Tears pooled in her eyes. She felt small, insignificant under the weight of his glare.

Uncle Wiryo exhaled sharply, attempting to control his rage. "You weren't just playing with something dangerous, Lucy. You just invited something dark… something that might never leave."

The ground trembled slightly. The dim light flickered as if disturbed by an invisible force. Malik instantly stepped forward, body tense.

"We ain't alone," he muttered, his eyes scanning the shadows.

Uncle Wiryo clenched his jaw. "Of course not. This ritual didn't just summon a curseit attracted things from the other side."

Lucy's throat tightened even more. The air around her shifted, heavy with whispers soft at first, then growing louder, swirling in her head like a deafening hum of foreign tongues.

"They… they wanna get inside me..." she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Malik immediately knelt beside her, gripping her shoulders. His touch was warm so real, so grounding, like an anchor against the madness threatening to consume her.

"Stay with me, Luce. Don't let 'em in." His voice was sharp, commanding.

Uncle Wiryo reached into his pocket, pulling out a bundle of betel leaves and a fistful of coarse salt. Without hesitation, he crushed the leaves and pressed them to Lucy's forehead.

"Open your eyes!" he ordered.

Lucy's eyes fluttered open only to see a different world.

Before her stood shadowy figures grotesque and twisted, their forms shifting unnaturally. Their eyes were empty, their bodies hovering in warped, distorted movements.

They surrounded her.

"You called us…" one of them hissed, its voice slithering through her mind. "Now you gotta pay the price…"

Lucy gasped, her body convulsing. It felt as if something was pulling at her soul, trying to rip it from her body.

Malik suddenly stood, raising a hand that pulsed with dark energy.

"Hell no. This stops NOW!"

A surge of black light exploded from him, forming a protective ring around Lucy and Uncle Wiryo.

The spirits shrieked, recoiling from Malik's energy. Their twisted forms writhed in pain, shrinking back into the shadows.

Without missing a beat, Uncle Wiryo scattered the salt across the room, sealing the ritual with a final chant of protection. The oppressive heat and dark aura dissipated. The grotesque figures faded one by one, their whispers swallowed by silence.

The room was still.

Lucy remained on the floor, her entire body trembling.

Uncle Wiryo let out a long, tired breath. "This is your last warning, Lucy. Don't mess with black magic again. Once you open that door… they'll never stop coming for you."

Lucy bit her lip, her vision blurred with unshed tears.

And finally… she broke.

Tears streamed down her face as the full weight of her ignorance, her foolishness, and her fear crashed down on her.