Chapter 1

Three years after my death, the grounds surrounding Blackwood Manor became a wasteland. Not a blade of grass survived. Anyone who ventured too close fell violently ill within hours.

The tabloids called me a curse that would linger for a millennium. The media pressure mounted until Julian had no choice.

He brought Silas to the estate—a renowned occultist who promised to cleanse the property and bind my restless spirit forever.

The manor stood before them, ornate but lifeless. A cold wind swept through the empty halls.

Julian pulled Isabella behind him, his face tight with irritation.

"That bitch Seraphina. Dead for three years and still causing trouble."

"I should have left her on some remote island to rot when I had the chance."

He didn't know the truth.

My ghost hovered beside him, watching.

My cursed corpse lay buried beneath his feet.

Rotting. Festering.

---

The house that had been my prison gaped like a wound in the landscape.

Though it was noon, sunlight couldn't penetrate the windows. The darkness inside seemed alive.

Silas and his apprentices surveyed the property, their expressions growing grimmer by the moment.

"The resentment here is overwhelming," Silas muttered. "This won't be easy to resolve."

He paused, then continued: "We need to find the body first. Only by pulverizing the bones with a blade forged from consecrated obsidian can we hope to dispel this malevolence."

The method was grotesque—barbaric, even.

Even Silas, who had witnessed countless horrors, struggled to suggest it.

Julian didn't hesitate. He immediately ordered someone to procure the obsidian and commissioned the finest craftsman to forge it into a knife.

Then he led the group toward my grave.

"Isabella's been having nightmares for weeks. That bitch is behind it, I'm certain."

"Dig up her grave. Grind her bones to dust. I don't care."

I'd been buried hastily. It took them some time to locate the site.

Finally, they found it—beneath grass that had grown nearly ten feet high. My tombstone lay toppled and cracked in the weeds.

The ground was uneven. Julian had workers prop the broken stone beneath Isabella's feet so she could stand more comfortably.

Then he ordered two laborers to dig.

Word had spread throughout the county that Julian was coming to exorcise Blackwood Manor. Curious neighbors gathered to watch.

They all blamed me for their misfortunes.

"Filthy whore," one man spat. "Dead and still making trouble. Should throw a diseased pig down there with her—fuck her corpse every day until she's too exhausted to haunt us!"

The old man hawked phlegm onto my grave.

"Mr. Blackwood treated you like a princess when you were alive. You didn't appreciate it then. Now you're dead and causing chaos. How can anyone be so vile?"

Another person kicked the coffin savagely.

Of course. Everyone in this town knew how much Julian "adored" his precious Seraphina.

Julian waved them back.

He was about to signal the workers to pry open the coffin when arms wrapped around him from behind.

"Julian, please. Seraphina was my sister, after all."

"Whatever she did wrong, I forgive her. Can't we just let her rest in peace?"

Julian pulled Isabella into his embrace, stroking her back soothingly.

"Darling, you're too kind to her. She repaid your goodness with betrayal. Have you forgotten all those nights you woke up screaming from nightmares?"

"I locked her in that house three years ago. Today, I'll cast her out for good."

Isabella nodded, burying her face against his chest.

Secretly hiding the anxiety in her eyes.

Silas directed his apprentices to open it.

The workers were more respectful than the spectators. They carefully broke each lock rather than cursing the dead.

The metallic clanging echoed across the wasteland. Finally, they lifted the coffin lid.

But inside wasn't the rotting corpse they expected.

Instead, the coffin overflowed with blood-stained ballet shoes.

Everyone stared in confusion at the mountain of pointe shoes.

Only Silas stepped forward, lifting one.

The satin was shredded from use. The blood had oxidized black over time.

After searching through the pile, Silas suddenly announced: "This is a malevolent ritual circle."

He pulled out a jade pendant from the bottom of the coffin.

The stone was so dark green it appeared black. Intricate symbols covered its surface.

Julian laughed derisively.

"Vicious to the end. Even in death, she left curses to torment Isabella."

"Search everything. I want to know what game she was playing."

Silas produced a dowsing pendulum. It pointed directly at the manor house.

The building reeked of dark energy. Only after the apprentices established protective wards could they enter safely.

Inside, the pendulum went haywire—spinning wildly without stopping.

Silas ordered his team to search for any personal belongings, but everything of mine had been burned the day after my death. They found nothing.

Isabella began sweating the moment she entered. Now she clung to Julian's arm.

"Julian, please. Let's leave. I feel awful."

She whimpered weakly against him.

Julian started to lead her out, but Silas blocked their path, trembling.

"Mr. Blackwood, you cannot leave!"

"To break the curse, you must remain. You were closest to the deceased. If you leave now, the spirit's power will surge exponentially!"

No one had dared defy Julian before. Now this occultist presumed to stop him?

But Silas was renowned—untouchable. Julian clenched his fist, fighting the urge to strike him.

Instead, he punched the antique vase in the center of the hall.

It shattered instantly. A notebook fell from inside.

Julian grabbed it and flipped through. The pages were blank. Enraged, he started to tear it apart—but Silas snatched it away.

Julian's glare could have flayed flesh from bone.

But Silas ignored him, chanting over the empty notebook.

The apprentices, returning empty-handed, saw their master working a spell. They formed a circle around him, joining the incantation.

Slowly, writing began appearing on the previously blank pages.

"The spirit's diary from before death!"

"Read it!"

Julian's patience snapped.

"Let's see what tricks she's playing. And how that bitch Seraphina learned such dark arts!"

Silas opened to the first entry.