I Awakened A Divine Curse

The breathing walls tightened.

Not metaphorically. Literally.

Stone groaned like ribs crushing around a long-dead heart. Starlight orbs flickered, casting warped shadows as the air grew thick. The spiraled mural beneath their feet pulsed—a heartbeat, and with each pulse, the darkness squeezed inward.

Then it exhaled.

A gust roared through the chamber, cold and fetid, reeking of ages past.

The mural split apart at the far end of the room.

Tiles cracked, spiraled outward, revealing something that shouldn't move.

A mass of twisted limbs rose from the gap—no, not limbs.

Arms.

Dozens of them.

All fused into one hunchbacked torso, wrapped in broken chains. Some links still embedded in its flesh, rusted metal biting deep.

Its head hung unnaturally low, as if the neck had surrendered long ago.

And then it lifted.

No eyes. Just a pit.

An open cavity where the face should have been. A mouth stitched shut with silver wire, a gurgling leak seeping from it like a death rattle stuck in rewind.

The thing moved—a jerking, unnatural motion. Chains rattled as those countless arms dragged its bulk forward. Each movement sent ripples through the breathing walls, as if the chamber itself recoiled from its presence.

One arm reached out, palm facing them. The flesh was pale, almost translucent, veins visible like dark rivers beneath the skin. Fingers—too many of them—splayed wide, beckoning.

Another arm joined it. Then another.

A grotesque wave of reaching hands, all gesturing with the same terrible invitation.

The walls exhaled again. Harder this time. The air pressure shifted, and their ears popped as reality bent around the abomination.

It opened its mouth—not the silver-wire stitched one. A second mouth, hidden beneath its throat, lined with teeth that had never known a human jaw. They clicked together in a rhythm, a metallic song that set their teeth on edge.

The spiraled mural beneath their feet pulsed faster now, matching their racing hearts. The starlight orbs dimmed, leaving them in the creature's shadow—a darkness that felt alive, hungry, and far too close.

The thing paused.

One of its many arms swiveled toward them, palm up, as if offering... something. The gesture was almost gentle, almost human.

Until they saw what rested in its hand.

A single eye. Blinking. Staring right at them with an intelligence that didn't belong to the beast.

Jasper stumbled back, his voice reduced to a rasp.

"Oh... my..."

Silver sparks whirled around Meredith's outstretched hand, coalescing into a gleaming spear. She spun it once—the tip catching the dim light, tension crackling in the air.

The creature dropped from its perch with a shriek that shattered the chamber's stillness. It landed hard, impact sending spider-web cracks through the stone floor.

Then it charged.

No preamble, no hesitation—just a blur of arms and inhuman speed streaming toward them.

Auren moved first. Black, sinister armor materialized across his body as his blade flashed upward, intercepting the first claw mid-strike. Steel met corrupted flesh, the impact reverberating like striking bone wrapped in sorrow.

"Spread out!"

He barked the command.

Jasper dove left, his saber singing free in a fluid arc that deflected a sweeping limb.

Auren had never seen him fight before—no way to gauge his skills. But watching Jasper's stance shift and flow, something clicked into place.

Not rigid. Fluid now. He parried another strike, then cut low across the creature's hip. Viscous black blood welled from the wound.

Meredith was already behind the creature.

She moved like a wraith—steps weightless, almost gliding across the stone. Her spear danced, striking twice before the Wretched even registered her presence. One thrust behind the knee sent it staggering. The second, into its lower back, drew a bone-deep howl.

Auren's eyes narrowed.

'She has grown even better.'

But the Cursed Creature spun, its mass flaring outward like a cyclone of limbs, sweeping them all back.

Auren slid across the floor, his metal boots screeching against stone. Jasper rolled to his feet, chest heaving, a fresh nick bleeding across his cheek. Meredith landed in a perfect crouch, one hand braced against the ground for balance.

Then the creature did something worse than attack.

It screamed.

The stitched mouth opened. Silver wire snapped with tiny metallic pings.

No words—just absence. The sound devoured every noise in the chamber. Their thoughts dissolved into static.

Jasper screamed in absolute silence.

Meredith collapsed to one knee, hands pressed tight against her ears, eyes wide with terror.

Auren staggered backward, clutching his head as warm blood trickled from his ears.

The scream stretched on—an eternity compressed into seconds. When it finally cut off, the silence felt like being slapped.

Auren blinked away tears, shaking his head to clear the ringing. His blade wavered but held steady. The others were already moving.

Jasper was closer than before. No longer keeping safe distance. His saber gleamed as he darted forward, weaving between flailing arms with movements that shouldn't flow that smoothly.

They were chaotic, but somewhat had a strange flow to them, disheveled but it worked.

Meredith surged upward, spear spinning in her grip. She vaulted off a broken chunk of stone, using her momentum to spiral around the creature's blind side. The tip of her weapon found purchase between ribs—or what passed for ribs. The Wretched shrieked, but not with its mouth this time.

Auren stepped back.

Not exactly retreating—watching.

His armor dimmed slightly, blade lowering just enough to signal the shift. Let them take the lead. Let them show what the vicious crucible of the trial and it's experiences had molded them into.

The abomination swung wildly, three arms converging on Jasper. He didn't dodge. Instead, he flowed—saber tracing an intricate pattern that deflected each strike. The fourth arm caught him off-guard, clipping his shoulder, sending him spinning. But he used the momentum, turning the stumble into a slash that opened a gash across the creature's torso.

Auren murmured under his breath with a soft smile.

"Nice."

Meredith called out—not words, just a sharp whistle that drew Jasper's attention. She pointed with her chin toward the creature's legs, then made a quick gesture with her free hand.

'They've been coordinating.'

But Meredith had to be rather obviously expressive. With him, it was silent, in her combat and in her eyes.

Jasper nodded—barely perceptible—and adjusted his stance.

When the Wretched lunged next, he went low while Meredith went high. Her spear carved through the air where its face should have been. His blade found the backs of its knees.

The creature buckled but didn't fall. Instead, it did something truly horrifying— it let out a low growl that almost seemed mocking.

The sound came from its secondary mouth, the one beneath its throat. A wet, choking sound that set every nerve on edge. Its remaining wire stitches began to stretch, pull apart with terrible deliberation.

That's when Auren noticed the pattern.

Each time Jasper and Meredith struck together, the Cursed Creature's movements became more erratic—but also more desperate. The growl intensified. Those countless arms began reaching not just for them, but for itself, clawing at its own flesh.

It was like…

'...It's afraid?'