The Cursed Lover

Julius clenched his fists as the haunting melody continued its relentless repetition.

"Love or leave?"

His mind raced. The rules were clear—he had to follow the song's guidance. But what does 'love' even mean in this game? Was it a mere word, or would he be forced to act upon it?

His gut twisted. Damn it… this isn't just a game. It's a curse.

But leaving? No. The doors were gone. The windows were sealed. There was no 'leaving.' He had only one choice.

His lips parted, and though his voice felt heavy, he forced out the words.

"…Love."

Silence.

The moment the word escaped his lips, the room darkened, the air thickening as if unseen hands clawed at the space around him. The flickering candlelight dimmed to a sickly glow, stretching long, twisted shadows across the wooden floor.

Then, a figure emerged.

A woman stood at the threshold of the dimly lit corridor, her presence unnatural—wrong. Her hair was long, black as the abyss, cascading down her frail shoulders like a funeral veil. Her eyes, pools of endless darkness, bore into him, unblinking. Her lips—painted a red so deep it resembled fresh blood—curled into a shy, hesitant smile.

Yet, her face… her face belonged to something that had long since withered. Wrinkled skin, like cracked porcelain, stretched over protruding cheekbones. Her hands, frail and bony, clutched the hem of an old black dress.

And then—

"Jad…"

Julius's breath hitched.

Jad?

His mind snapped back to the letter he had read. Cherie Lancer… the one who wrote the letter. She was in love with someone named Jad.

The realization struck like a dagger to his spine.

This is the next test. I… I have to play the role of her lover.

He swallowed. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs. This is insane. This is absolutely insane.

Sherry—if this thing before him truly was her—took a small, hesitant step forward. Despite her grotesque appearance, her voice remained soft, almost delicate, carrying the innocence of a young maiden.

"I… I've waited so long," she murmured, lowering her gaze shyly. "You came back… for me?"

Julius's jaw tightened. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run, to fight, to not go along with this madness. But he couldn't.

This was the game.

The air grew thick with expectation.

"Y…Yeah," he forced himself to say. "I'm here."

Sherry's lips quivered, and then, in a sudden burst of emotion, she ran toward him, her frail body colliding with his. Her arms wrapped around his torso, gripping him tightly. Cold. Her touch was unnervingly cold.

Julius fought the urge to recoil.

Her head rested against his chest as she whispered, "I thought you had forgotten me, Jad… But now that you're here, we can finally… finally…"

A dreadful silence stretched.

"…seal our love."

Julius stiffened.

Slowly, Sherry pulled back, tilting her head up to look at him. Her black eyes, wide and hopeful, gleamed under the dim light.

"Jad," she breathed, her voice filled with longing. "Kiss me."

Julius's blood ran cold.

His entire body locked up. His mind screamed in protest.

Kiss her?

The thought alone made his stomach churn. Her lips—those blood-red lips—stood out grotesquely against the corpse-like pallor of her skin. The idea of pressing his mouth against hers, of tasting the rot that lurked beneath the illusion of youth—

He couldn't do it.

He wouldn't do it.

His breath came ragged as his body fought against the sheer dread crawling up his spine.

No. No, no, no—

Before he could move, before he could even think of an escape, the room shattered.

A screech—inhuman, guttural—tore through the air.

Julius barely had time to react as Sherry's entire form convulsed, her frail limbs snapping unnaturally. Her black dress twisted and tore apart, revealing a grotesque, jointed body—like a marionette, its wooden limbs clacking together as wires snapped into existence.

Her mouth stretched too wide, her lips curling unnaturally as her teeth—jagged and sharp—gleamed under the dim light.

Gone was the hesitant, blushing maiden.

In her place stood a cursed, bloodthirsty doll.

A cursed doll… that wanted him dead.

Julius's instincts roared to life. Without hesitation, he flung himself backward, his fingers moving in a blur as he activated his first technique.

Shadow Step!

His body melted into the darkness, reappearing several meters away just as the monstrous form lunged at him.

Fast!

A jagged limb shot toward him. Julius barely dodged, twisting his body mid-air before summoning his next ability—

Dark Tendrils!

Shadows surged from the ground, writhing like living serpents as they lashed toward the creature. The tendrils wrapped around her wooden limbs, tightening—

Crack!

She snapped free.

Julius's eyes widened in alarm.

That was supposed to hold her!

No time to think.

His fingers flicked outward—

Shadow Dagger!

A dagger, forged from pure darkness, materialized in his grasp. He hurled it at her chest, aiming for what should have been her heart.

The blade struck true—

But it bounced off.

What?

A chilling realization struck him.

She's too strong.

The doll screeched, her clawed hands swiping toward him with bone-shattering force. Julius barely managed to avoid a direct hit, but the sheer force of the impact sent him crashing into the wooden floor.

Pain flared through his ribs.

Struggling to rise, he reached for another skill—

Phantom Clone!

A shadowy duplicate of himself flickered into existence beside him. The doll hesitated for a fraction of a second—enough for Julius to roll away.

But he was too slow.

Before he could counterattack, an iron grip clamped around his throat.

He choked. His feet lifted off the ground.

The cursed doll loomed over him, her hollow, soulless eyes boring into his very existence. The wires suspending her body trembled, stretching as she pulled him closer—closer toward her wide, grinning mouth.

"This time…" she whispered, voice dripping with malice.

"…you will love me."

Julius struggled, but her grip was unbreakable. His vision blurred, his strength fading—

Then—

The doll froze.

Her entire body shuddered violently. Her black eyes widened.

Julius could barely comprehend it, but…

She was staring into his eyes.

And in that moment, as if staring into the abyss itself, she saw—

A throne.

A massive, obsidian throne, looming atop an endless void. Upon it sat a figure—unmoving, yet undeniable.

A King of Shadows.

His gaze bore down upon her, his eyes a terrifying abyss.

A voice, deep and commanding, rumbled through the fabric of reality itself.

"You dare?"