Blood Curse of the Shaman

Several days had passed since the ritual was completed.

Lucy was still weak, her body not yet fully recovered. But she could feel that the world around her was a little calmer. There were no more whispers in the night. No more dark shadows lurking at the edge of her vision.

Yet, something still felt wrong.

That night, as light rain drizzled outside, Lucy sat in her room, wrapped in exhaustion. Malik, who now watched over her more closely, stood by the window.

"Look," Malik said, pointing outside.

Lucy followed his gaze, and immediately, her breath caught in her throat.

Outside, in the middle of her dark yard… someone was standing there.

A woman in a tattered white dress, her long hair covering her face, unmoving beneath the falling rain.

And from all of her features, only her eyes were visible.

Eyes filled with vengeance.

Lucy gripped the arm of her chair tightly. "Who is she?"

Malik remained silent for a moment before finally saying, "Someone who should not have returned."

A chill crept through the room.

Then, suddenly… the woman began walking toward the house.

One step.

Two steps.

"Krecekk krecekkk krecekkk"

Lucy could hear the squelching sound of wet footsteps against the earth.

And then…

"Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!"

A soft knocking sounded at the front door.

Lucy turned to Malik, her face tense. "What do we do?"

Malik stared at the door with a grim expression.

"If we don't open it… she'll find her own way in."

And at that moment, the knocking turned into violent pounding.

"BRAK! BRAK! BRAK!"

The door shook as if an immense force was pushing against it.

Lucy could feel her heart pounding wildly.

Whoever this spirit was, she wasn't going to leave. And this time, a sealing ritual might not be enough to stop her.

****

The violent pounding against the door echoed throughout the house. The once silent home was now filled with unbearable tension.

Lucy swallowed hard, her pulse racing. She could feel the cold seeping into the house, even though all the windows were tightly shut.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Malik standing stiffly, his black eyes locked onto the door, his body braced for something beyond an ordinary spirit.

"Look under the door," Malik whispered.

Lucy obeyed, lowering her gaze to the small gap beneath the old wooden door.

What she saw made her freeze.

A shadow slithered beneath the door. But it wasn't an ordinary shadow… it pulsed, shifting like a living entity. From within the darkness, a pale, skeletal hand emerged, its fingers clawing at the wooden floor with a sickening scraping sound.

Lucy jerked backward. "That's… that's not an ordinary spirit!"

"Exactly." Malik stepped forward. "This is a vengeful spirit. And she wants something from you."

"BRAKKKKK!!"

Another blow nearly tore the door from its hinges.

"We don't have time," Malik said, turning to Lucy with a serious expression. "We have to make her leave before she gets inside."

Lucy bit her lip. "How?"

Malik raised his right hand, tracing symbols in the air with his index finger. A faint red glow followed his movements, forming a circle with ancient inscriptions surrounding it.

"You have to say her name," Malik instructed. "A spirit like this can only be banished if we know who they were in life."

Lucy felt her skin crawl. "But I don't know who she is!"

"She came for you," Malik replied. "That means there's a connection between you two."

Lucy racked her brain, trying to think through the fog of panic. But nothing made sense.

Meanwhile, the hands beneath the door multiplied. The scratching grew louder, filling the room with an unbearable sound.

"Kraaaakkk kraaakkkk"

"Give it back… GIVE IT BACK!"

A woman's voice echoed through the house.

Lucy clutched her ears, but the voice whispered directly into her mind.

"Give me back my life… give it back!!"

And then, suddenly, a vision flashed through her mind.

Like a dream. A dream that had haunted her since her mother's death. A woman in white, her face covered in wounds, watching her from afar.

A figure that always appeared within the mist.

"No… it can't be…!!!"

Lucy felt her throat go dry. She turned to Malik, her face ashen.

"I know who she is," she whispered.

Malik didn't reply, but his expression showed that he had suspected it all along.

"Say her name," he ordered.

Lucy swallowed hard, then turned to the door that was barely holding together. She took a deep breath and spoke the name that had surfaced in her mind.

"Nyai Suri."

All goes Silence.

The entire house seemed to freeze.

The wind howling outside abruptly stopped. The distant thunder ceased.

And then, a faint voice echoed…

"Finally… you remember me."

And in an instant, the pounding stopped. The clawing hands disappeared.

But that didn't mean the terror was over.

Because when Lucy turned around…

Nyai Suri was already inside the room.

****

The woman stood in the corner.

Her tattered gown was stained with dirt and blood. Her long, black hair hung in wet strands, partially concealing her face one covered in festering wounds.

But the most terrifying part… was her eyes.

They were empty, dark, yet filled with a hatred so deep it sent chills down Lucy's spine.

Lucy was frozen. She wanted to run, to scream, but her body refused to move.

Nyai Suri moved.

Not like a human, but like something broken, gliding as if her body had no bones.

Malik immediately stepped between them. "Stay back."

Nyai Suri turned her hollow gaze toward him. Her lips curled into a cold smile.

"You can't stop me, foolish djinn," she whispered, her voice layered with a thousand others.

Malik clenched his jaw, lifting his hand, ready to strike.

But before he could do anything…

Nyai Suri vanished.

And in the blink of an eye, she reappeared—right in front of Lucy.

Too fast.

Lucy had no time to react. She could only stare at Nyai Suri's rotting face up close, seeing every decaying wound on her skin.

And then, it hit her.

Memories.

Memories that didn't belong to her.

A house.

A young woman running in terror.

Someone was chasing her.

A scream.

"Kyaaaaaaaaa"

And then… blood. So much blood.

Lucy gasped, snapping back to reality, her breath ragged. It felt like she had just been pulled from the depths of an ocean.

Her wide eyes locked onto Nyai Suri's hollow gaze.

"You…" her voice barely came out. "You were murdered…"

Nyai Suri smiled. But there was no joy in it—only bitterness.

"I wasn't just murdered," she whispered. "I was sacrificed."

Lucy felt her stomach drop.

Nyai Suri stared at her.

"And you… are part of the curse."

Cold dread filled Lucy's veins. She didn't understand.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Nyai Suri didn't answer. She only watched her with that hateful gaze.

Then, suddenly, the walls melted away, revealing a vision.

A dark room. Flickering candlelight.

A body lying in the center.

Nyai Suri still alive. Or rather, barely alive.

Her stomach was torn open, blood pooling beneath her.

And next to her… stood a woman holding a blood-stained dagger.

Lucy's mother.

"No… it can't be…"

But deep down, she knew it was true.

"You understand now?" Nyai Suri's voice was sharp.

Lucy's world crumbled around her.

Her mother...the woman she loved, the healer she admired...was a killer.

And now, the curse belonged to Lucy.