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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Horror/Scary · #2092774
A new horror has risen from the depths of hell...
The Cursed Child

It all begins

I

"Honey, I'm home," called Jason Alembique, tossing his black denim jacket in one of the sofas.
"Snacks up! Tea or coffee?" a female voice floated out of the kitchen.
"Coffee...not now," he replied, excitement oozing through those black obsidian eyes.
"Alright then, I'll be waiting at the dining hall."
Without another word, Jason entered his room, a look of determination and excitement now grappling his entire face.
Ellie Alembique happily began to prepare coffee for her husband; it was their fourth wedding anniversary. She was wearing a blue gown...her favorite color. As she worked, she peeked at their sleeping child every once in a while. The scene brought a smile of satisfaction to her beautiful face. Tyson; the core of her heart...just the sort of boy she always wanted.
Having finished with Jason's coffee, Ellie headed for the dressing room...Tyson sleeping peacefully in her arms. Placing the baby on his bed, Ellie settled down for a final makeup. She didn't need any though; with royal blue eyes, caramel colored hair and pale rosy skin, she naturally appeared as a knockout.
Jason wasn't any less; he had dark obsidian eyes and hair...with creamy white skin and a very, very handsome appearance, he seemed the perfect match for Ellie.
Ellie smiled.
...

Thirty minutes had passed, and yet Jason was nowhere to be seen.
Ellie grew impatient as she waited long at the dining space. She took Tyson in her arms and advanced towards his room.
"Jason?" she called.
The door was left ajar. Candle light filled the entire room. Carefully, she took a peek inside, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Jason lay on the floor, his handsome face twisted in pain and fear. Something, a feminine something, sat next to his pale body. She wore a dirty white gown patched in several places; long black hair covered her complete appearance; . She seemed to be munching something.
Blood covered the entire floor. The woman inserted her hands into Mr. Alembique's stomach, and brought out what seemed like a...lung? She began devouring the organ voraciously.
As soon as Mrs. Alembique screamed, she knew it was a big mistake. The creature turned on her, and for the first (and last) time, she was able to see its face.
It was the most horrible sight. The beast had a long, completely burnt face; with eyes as white as snow. Within huge, pointed teeth, wriggling worms and maggots crawled in its mouth. The creature raised its paw containing razor sharp talons.
Before Mrs. Alembique could let out another scream, the beast's talons pierced through her chest, and brought out of the wound a fresh, beating heart. The last sound Mrs. Alembique heard was of her ribs cracking...the last sound she made was: "Tyson."
The lifeless form of Mrs. Alembique dropped to the floor. The beast let out a laugh of rejoice...an unearthly, terrible laughter...
II

Jule Margaret was the new girl at Rockfalls High. Not that she wanted it. Spending fifteen years in one neighborhood, and all of a sudden, you need to move ASAP into a new home: well, that wasn't something high on Jule's 'to do' list. It really isn't easy to leave behind all the memories of your entire life: friends, environment...and get acquainted to a new, completely different surrounding. Technically what Jule called 'out of the blue'.
Jule's dad had died in a plane crash some ten years ago. She had been a kid of just four back then: blurred images of Mr. Margaret still hovered around in her mind: a pair of sea-green eyes, a warm smile and the faint odor of Musk; well, that's all pretty much she remembered. Her dad had passed away to leave behind three members in the family: Mrs. Margaret, Jule and the most troublesome, irritating brother a person could ever ask for, Rick.
Now, looking upon Rockfalls High as her mom assured her for the thousandth time with the "everything's gonna be fine sweetie" dialogue, Jule almost felt like crying. She could feel tears gather up fast behind her eyelashes; nose turning a brilliant shade of magenta.
"Awww," Rick mimicked in a falsetto voice from the backseat, "is poor Julie-Julie acting the cry-baby again?"
"Shut up, jerk," was the best reply Jule could come up with. Being unable to control her emotions, she quickly jumped off the car, backpack tightly clenched within a pair of snow-white fists.
"Life'll never be same again," Jule sighed.
Only if she knew how true those words would prove to be...
The first person Jule noted at the school grounds was a giant. No, seriously, a giant. He was easily nine feets, with huge arms that stretched well below the knees. He had a ragged appearance: torn jacket, dirty jeans and a pair of old, worn out sneakers... with long, black, curly hair that somehow suited the rest of his costume. The weird part: he was wearing a pair of sunglasses, despite the fact that he was sitting in a relatively shady zone. He had a gloomy expression; and all of a sudden, Jule felt a strong urge to talk to the guy.
Just as she stepped forward to meet the big guy, someone called out from behind:
"Ms. Jule Margaret?"
She turned around to face a tall (short, in comparison with the big dude), stern looking woman in robes with a clipboard in her hands. She looked like a Sister; her robes were pitch-black in color and her expression was cold and steely; evil, almost. Through those startling grey eyes behind a pair of thin glasses, the woman studied Jule suspiciously. She seemed to radiate an unmistakable aura of power. Jule tried to smile.
"Hello ma'm," she said, "um...actually, I'm a new arrival, so I thought..."
"Your classroom is right there, Ms. Margaret," the lady pointed to a hall at the corner of a nearby corridor. "I would advise you to get there soon, for as far as I presume," she checked her watch, "your next class begins by exactly five minutes."
She turned her gaze upon Big Dude sitting a few distance away from Jule; and her expression hardened even more. She marched in his direction.
Sighing, Jule darted towards the classroom.
...

According to Jule's 'gut feeling', the class was okay. There were about fifteen students in total; "Eight girls and seven boys," she counted. Everyone glanced at her with intense curiosity; clearly eager to get introduced to the new arrival. A number of seats remained empty at the back corner of the room, and to several disappointments, Jule walked towards one of them; clearly sending out the message: 'Stay off'. She knew it didn't create a very good first-sight image of hers in the class, but Jule couldn't help it. Until and unless you're really, really close to her, she won't even bother to look at you.
To Jule's surprise, the woman from the school grounds entered the room, clipboard replaced by a rather...fat book. She was shortly followed by...Big Dude himself. The guy literally had to bow down to avoid getting bumped by the door frame.
"God," Jule said to herself, "He's in ninth grade?!"
Her query was soon answered as Big Dude made his way through the room; approached towards the empty seats at the back. He didn't notice a leg sticking out of one of the benches...its owner being a chubby blond boy smirking mischievously as he eyed him. It was only moments before he fell for the trap: he tripped and fell to the floor with an enormous 'CRASH' that literally shook the room. Everyone roared with laughter, Chubby being the loudest. Cursing, Big Dude stood up, swayed, and crippled down again; his face twisted with pain.
"Silence," the teacher muttered. Amazingly, the entire class went dead. Clearly, the woman had the rare gift of silencing crowds using bare words.
"Mr. Bradley," she mumbled in the same deadly tone, "to my office, NOW."
Whimpering, Chubby (ok, Bradley) stood up and went for the exit, face white as paper.
Very slowly, Jule went forward and helped Big Dude up to his feet. It wasn't easy; Jule felt like holding up a mountain...her height barely reached his knees. She directed him towards her seat, and made him sit right beside her. Big Dude smiled, and mouthed the words: 'thank you'.
"Thank you Ms. Margaret," a tiny smile appeared in the teacher's sallow face; but just as abruptly, it vanished within a moment. She turned to Big Dude. "And Mr. Alembique... please be a bit more careful in future, hmm?"
The class resumed. The teacher took a long, boring lesson on the ancient Babylonians and Assyrians, none of which Jule heard. She was busy studying the Mount Everest right beside her. He was fiddling with his pen; clearly unaware of the lecture.
"Thanks again," the boy suddenly whispered, turning his gaze upon Jule.
"It's ok, don't mention," Jule smiled.
"Hey, um..." he seemed nervous. "You're new here, right? So...I was wondering if I could, um...you know, show you around...I mean, the grand tour...oh not grand exactly, I mean..."
"I'd love to," Jule couldn't help grinning. As gigantic as he was, the big guy definitely seemed articulate.
...

"The name's Tyson," he introduced as they walked around the campus, "Tyson Alembique." He had a deep, booming voice that strangely reminded Jule of distant rumbling thunder.
"Jule Margaret," she replied, struggling to zip her backpack. It seemed stuck.
"Here, let me help," Tyson snatched it away from her hands, and Jule felt like an enormous force heaving her above literally like a 'rag doll'. With a simple pull, he easily did the job.
"Thanks," she muttered.
She had to stretch her neck like hell just to talk to the guy...his enormous height which easily matched the size of any regular wall, now seemed extremely annoying.
"Tyson, I don't mean to be rude," she started, "but um...may I know why you wear sunglasses all the time?"
Tyson stopped dead. He seemed confused; agitated, almost.
"Nah, forget it," Jule said quickly, "Shouldn't have asked."
"No...it's alright," he took a deep breath; "after all, you're my...friend," he almost choked the last word out, and turned to her with an odd look of melancholy.
He took several deep breaths and remained silent for a while.
"I'll show you, but you gotta give me your word of not telling this to anyone." He said, face turning solemn.
"Um...okay," Jule replied, wondering what could be so personal.
Sighing, Tyson took off the glasses and knelt for Jule to have a closer look. She gasped.
His right eye was perfectly fine and normal, deep royal blue; it was the left one making all the difference.
It was red; blood red.
"Yup, I know," Tyson murmured sadly, "it's abnormal."
"But Tyson," Jule whispered, "you haven't got any pupils either!"
"I know, I know...," he repeated heavily, putting the sunglasses back on again.
They walked silently for quite a long time.
"Is this why everyone in the class makes jokes of you?" Jule finally broke the stillness, "is this why you stay to yourself all the time?"
"Mmm hmm," he grunted in reply.
"Your parents; haven't they..."
"Dead," he answered boldly, "dead before I even learnt to remember faces. I live with my uncle and aunt."
"I'm sorry," Jule bit her lips, "but haven't you consulted a doctor or something? I mean your height...and now this..."
"I did...but apparently, medical science hasn't even discovered any problems like this yet, forget the remedy," he said with absolute distaste.
"And it's not only the height and the eye," he added finally.
"What do you mean?" Jule asked curiously.
"Never mind," Tyson replied quickly, as if happy to end the conversation, "hey I gotta fly; catch you later."
Jule watched him depart with a stunned look; completely unaware of another pair of hungry, yellow eyes watching her amidst the shadows of the trees.
III

"Mom, I'm home!" Jule declared as soon as she entered, restless and completely worn out of the day's schoolwork.
No reply.
Weird, Jule thought as she dropped her backpack on the sofa. Their house was never silent.
It was then that she discovered a note on the refrigerator. She recognized the elegant, loopy handwriting right away. It was from Mrs. Margaret.
"Dear Jule, need to fly to Washington immediately; regarding my business. I've left Rick with you, take care of him. I'll be back within three days.
Love,
Mom."
Jule sighed. Now I'll have to put up with that creep for three days.
"Rick," she called, "are you up in your room?"
Silence.
"Rick?" she called again, louder this time.
Silence.
Oh well, Jule thought, maybe the dweeb's got himself blown up. Now that would work for me.
Having got changed, Jule jumped on the sofa and turned on the TV.
...

Jule yawned. She stretched her arms and almost jumped, looking at the time. It was 10 past midnight.
Oh not a problem, she suddenly remembered, I haven't got any homeworks tonight.
She took a glass of Pepsi and turned down the TV. It was only then when another thought poked into her mind.
Rick, she thought, what's up? It's almost been three hours...he's never been quiet for this long before.
With arched brows, Jule stood up and went upstairs. She stopped in front of Rick's room; the door was locked.
"Rick?" she called, knocking slightly, "you in there?"
Silence.
Where is he? Jule stood there, calculating where her brother could possibly be. Could this be another one of his dumb jokes? She pounded on the door, harder this time.
Then she noticed that the door was locked okay; it was locked from the outside.
Now Jule was puzzled. The little jerk locked himself out?!
Maybe he's just playing one of his sick jokes, she thought, and started for the stairs. Not long after, she abruptly came to a stop.
No, she answered to herself, I know him. He can't stay put for even an hour!
The environment tensed.
Jule went down and checked every hiding place Rick could possibly think of, even the washrooms. The result: negative.
"Rick, if this is one of your sick jokes again, I'll..." she stopped at the sight of a bizarre scene right ahead. Her eyes widened in fear.
It was Mrs. Margaret's bedroom. Jule had checked this place already, but apparently had missed the wall on the right side.
The entire wall was printed with strange symbols: circles, lines, stars, triangles, pentagons, hexagons and... human beings?
With amazement, Jule noticed pictures and shapes of human beings on the wall as well; the symbols all printed in some red liquid; some of which were yet fresh, and drops of it were dripping noiselessly to the floor. Could it be...blood?
A sense of looming dread captured Jule's imagination. Rick, she thought, something's wrong...something's really, really wrong. I-I need to call mom.
But she couldn't. A mysterious curiosity dawned upon her; she seemed totally attracted to the scenario. An unidentified force urged her to move forth...to have a closer look. Unaware of the impending doom that awaited her soon enough, she took a closer look. Just below the symbols, some inscriptions were now clearly visible. Written in English, the line read:
"Arru Marri Untes Ta Lucifer, Arru Amarri Tanakah".
Jule had no idea of how long she stood there, completely petrified. A chill went down her spine.
Her trauma was finally broken by the roar of the telephone downstairs.
IV

Tyson's eyes sprang open. He jumped off the bed and ran for his table, frantically searching for something apparently very important. At long last, his hand emerged from the swarm of books heaped on the table; holding a rather old and dusty book. This was the only thing he had inherited from his father. Flipping through the yellowed, worn out pages for about five minutes, Tyson's eyes finally found the thing he'd been searching for.
His face paled as he read the small passage.
"The Tanakah, most familiar yet the most evil of all demons, is believed to Lucifer himself. It is known to dwell in hell itself. Having a certain interest over attractive females, the Tanakah is commonly known to possess one who comes too near to its abode. The Tanakah is a common demon in several major religions, namely Christianity and Islam. It is known as "Jinn" to Muslims and "Lucifer" to Christians. Nevertheless, the Tanakah can harm none as long as it isn't summoned. There are few ways to banish the Tanakah-"
Tyson could read only so far. Slamming the book shut, he closed his eyes.
He knew something wasn't right this evening when he and Jule were walking in that area. He practically had sensed something evil in the landscape; had felt a strong pressure in his stomach, the way he always did when danger was nearby. Feeling extremely uneasy, Tyson had ended the conversation and left the place ASAP.
Now he knew why he had that feeling.
...

"Uncle Ferdinand?" Tyson knocked on his uncle's door.
"Come in Tyson," answered a feeble voice from inside.
Mr. Ferdinand was a very old man in his nineties. He had made a fortune in his lifetime, and so could afford to adopt Tyson after the sad demise of his parents, the Alembiques. Though extremely old, Mr. Ferdinand was a highly wise individual who seemed to be able to solve any problem with his wisdom. And now, as he looked upon his nephew through his half-moon spectacles, he could tell something was wrong.
"Something bothering you, child?" he asked kindly.
Tyson detailed everything that had had happened since morning. His strange dreams of the previous night, abrupt meeting with Jule Margaret, the odd feeling and finally the vision of the happenings at Jule's place - he missed nothing.
Mr. Ferdinand remained silent for a long time. He knew he couldn't hide it from Tyson anymore.
"Child," he said in his feeble yet warm voice, "I believe it is time you knew your true self; your true identity."
"Excuse me?" Tyson asked, bewildered, "my true identity? Who am I, like, Lord Voldemort?"
"Far worse," he replied, "your father, Jason Alembique, was an exorcist."
"He was?"
"Yes; a very powerful one, I daresay."
"Ooookay, my education's complete."
"I am serious, Tyson."
"Alright, go ahead. Dad was a freaking exorcist, fine; but what on earth does it have to do with me?"
"A lot, child," Mr. Ferdinand sounded miserable.
"Jason had a knack of excessive... nosiness; always wanted to explore... things far beyond our imaginations. Look at the result now...that knack of his consumed two young lives: Jason's, and your mom Tyson, Elle's. Yes, child...it was Jason's mistake that cost you your parents."
"What do you mean?" Tyson asked, suddenly interested.
The old man sighed.
"You'll know, soon enough."
And then, Mr. Ferdinand began to narrate the miserable, horrifying story of his brother's family.
...

"The cops found your parents' corpses the next morning. Both bodies were horribly misshaped: burnt, torn and ripped apart. Interesting thing was, all of their major organs, including the hearts, were missing.
It seemed as if someone, or something, had pulled the organs right out of their bodies with incredible strength. I ran to the spot as soon as I heard, and found you there. You were still alive, badly bruised in places, but perfectly alive. I adopted you, and took you home.
Nevertheless, my troubles were only beginning. One night, I saw a horrible lady on my doorstep through the window. She was calling you; muttering your name in the most gruesome voice I've ever heard. I brought a Father to purify the house, but strangely, something spooked him right out of our yard as soon as he stepped on it. The next day, he was found at a graveyard, dead; murdered the same way as your parents.
Next, I decided to consult an exorcist. Jeremy was a fellow exorcist of your father, and knew him quite well enough. I took his appointment, alright; but as soon as I stepped in his house with you in my arms, he fainted. Once brought back to senses, we...discovered the poor man had gone insane. He yelled his head off, repeating the same words: 'The curse of the Tanakah! Beware, most unfortunate child! You will bring great misery to your fellow people! Your sufferings are YET TO COME!'"
Mr. Ferdinand stopped.
Tyson seemed out of words.
"And here you are, Tyson Alembique, bearer of the Tanakah's curse, whatever that means," the old man said sadly.
"Is this the reason behind my abnormalities?" Tyson asked slowly.
"I am afraid so."
Sighing, Tyson did the most unusual thing a human could ever do. He lifted his uncle's bed five inches in the air, using his bare right hand.
"Yes, the strength as well," Mr. Ferdinand added calmly. This was no surprise to him, nor to Tyson, either.
"Does this mean," Tyson wondered fearfully, "that the people close to me also have the risk of getting whacked out by this...thing?"
"Don't ask me," his uncle replied, "I have no idea, whatsoever, about these matters."
"I've gotta warn Jule."
Tyson ran for the telephone, praying he wasn't too late.

V

"Hello?" Jule responded in a shaky voice, completely stricken with fear and confusion.
"Jule? This is Tyson." A familiar booming voice answered from the other side.
"Tyson? I'm so glad you called. Look, something strange-"
"Just listen to me very, very carefully," his voice sounded damn serious, "get out of your house as fast as you can."
"What?" Jule was shocked, "why the hell-"
"Just get out of the house!" Tyson yelled. "I'll be coming over as soon as-"
The phone went dead.
"Hello? Hello?" Jule asked frantically.
Just then, a sudden gasp of shivering cold wind entered the room. The temperature dropped dangerously.
That's funny, Jule couldn't help thinking, I thought I closed the windows and exits before getting on with the TV.
With a deafening "KABOOM", all the lights went off. The entire house turned to a pool of eternal darkness.
Amidst the freezing cold and eerie silence, Jule shivered. She seemed transfixed; being unable to move a muscle, she just stood there, completely tranquilized to the spot.
"Jule! Jule! Where are you?" came a familiar tiny voice from the sea of darkness around her.
"Rick? Rick, is that you?"
"Help me Jule; it's dark in here...I'm scared."
"Hold on, I'm coming!" with enormous effort, Jule finally managed to make her feet move.
She swapped frenetically in the darkness, hoping to get hold of her brother's little hands.
"Rick, where are you?"
"I'm down here Jule," the voice replied, "in the basement."
"Basement?" that took her by surprise, "but then, how come your voice sounds this near?"
"Help me Jule, I-I'm really scared...I think there's something down here." The voice cracked.
"Alright, just stay where you are okay? I'm coming." She darted for the stairs.
Maybe I should take a flashlight, she suddenly remembered. Just as she turned around, the voice spoke again.
"No Jule! Do not bring any lights! Please!" it yelled hysterically.
"You out of your mind?" Jule replied angrily. "How else am I supposed to see in this darkness?"
"Please hurry up," the voice pleaded, "there's something here in the basement! IT'S COMING AFTER ME!"
"Just stay calm!" she yelled back, "there's nothing down there in the basement! It's just your imagination!"
A few minutes later, Jule was standing in front of the basement door, armed with a flashlight. She seemed puzzled.
"Rick? Why's the door locked?" She asked, "Open up! I can't get through!"`
Almost instantly, the door unlocked with a long, creaking noise that shattered the silence around. Jule checked her watch. 1:02 am.
Sighing, she passed through. Bright rays from her flashlight flooded the old basement.
"Alright Rick, I'm here," she called out, "you can come out now."
Silence.
God, I'm getting tired of this.
Jule took a step forth, but retreated immediately at the sound of cracking glass just beneath her sneakers. She looked below.
A shattered mirror lay wide open on the floor. A beautiful face was now visible on it: milky white skin, blond hair and perfect green eyes. Her own reflection now seemed sort of creepy, provided the situation and environment she was in.
All of a sudden, the flashlight went dead. The sea of darkness seemed to swallow her again.
Immediately, the voice returned.
"Jule, where are you? Please help me Jule!"
"Rick?" Jule was totally stunned. She was sure no one was there even a moment ago.
"WHAM!" the basement door slammed shut behind her. Jule was taken aback. She could figure out the dim outline of a child just a few steps ahead of her. A faint light filled the room.
"R-Rick?" she mumbled.
"It's me, Jule," the shape came closer; "don't you recognize your own brother?"
He approached closer. Jule seemed petrified once again.
Then, in the dim light, Rick's face came into focus. Jule's face twisted in horror.
Face being completely burnt, Rick's eyes were glowing white. His mouth hung open, and within rows of pointed teeth, inside crawled millions of slimy, wriggling maggots.
The monster spoke up again. It's voice was now deep and raspy.
"Won't you help me, Jule?"
In a moment's flash, it brought down it's razor sharp talons on her stomach. It went through like butter.
Jule gasped. She could feel its arm going up from the stomach towards her chest; her heart. She knew she was going to die.
She couldn't breathe; her chest was about to explode.
On an instant, the monster tugged it's hand out. It held a live, beating heart on its blistered palm. Then, as the lifeless form of Jule Margaret dropped to the floor, it began to chew hungrily at the thumping organ.
Just then, a few metres away from her house, Tyson Alembique came to a dead stop. He knew it was useless to run any further...the Tanakah had claimed its victim.
The words of Mr. Ferdinand rang through Tyson's ears.
"Here you are, Tyson Alembique, bearer of the Tanakah's curse."

(To be continued...)
















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