The Deadly Charm

Part 36 : The Death Curse

The Curse of Vengeance

The day after Kanrawee's heart was torn apart by an image she would never forget, she made a decision from which there would be no return. She would reclaim what she believed had been stolen from her—no matter the cost. Even if it meant turning to the darkest of all paths.

That night, Kanrawee drove down an unlit road toward a remote village hidden deep in the forest. She had heard whispers of a man who lived there—a sorcerer of the blackest magic, infamous for his mastery of deadly curses. They called him Kamdam, the Shadow Witch Doctor.

At the far end of the village stood Kamdam's hut, shrouded in darkness and silence. The air around the house felt heavy and unnatural. Towering trees loomed around it like silent sentinels guarding some deep, forbidden secret. Kanrawee stepped out of her car, an eerie chill crawling up her spine.

She walked into the dense woods, where the moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy. The shadows mirrored the darkness now nesting in her heart. Each step along the narrow forest path echoed with rage and vengeance.

Her destination: a small, ancient hut said to belong to the legendary Kamdam—a shaman whose black magic could bend the will of fate. Love, hate, ruin, death—he could manifest them all for the right price.

Kanrawee stood at the door of the hut, a place she had never imagined herself coming to. But hatred had consumed her heart too deeply to turn back now.

She approached the door, weathered and engraved with bizarre symbols. As she raised her hand to knock, it creaked open on its own—as though it had been expecting her. The distant fluttering of an owl's wings in the dark only added to the foreboding.

Inside, the hut was dim, lit only by the flickering of a single candle in the far room. She stepped in without hesitation. There, seated at an old wooden table, was a man with a sharp, commanding face and piercing eyes that seemed to gaze straight through her soul.

"Kamdam..." she whispered.

"What do you seek?" his voice was low, rumbling like thunder from underground.

A chill swept through her body, but she stood tall, defiant.

"I want revenge," she said firmly.

Kamdam's lips curled into a cold smile. Without a word, he turned and walked deeper into the hut. She followed him, entering a space that was more than unsettling—charms, bones, and dried herbs hung from the walls, casting strange shadows. The pungent scent of incense and unburnt offerings filled the air.

He sat at the table and began preparing for the ritual. Kanrawee sat across from him, watching closely—her face tense with fear but unflinching.

"I know what you want," Kamdam said at last, pulling out a piece of dried buffalo hide etched with ancient runes.

"You want a curse—one no one can escape. You want that woman to suffer with every breath she takes."

She stared at the hide in his hand, dread rising in her chest. But she didn't falter. She nodded.

"I will embed this buffalo hide inside her. Every time she eats or drinks, it will feel like a stone lodged in her gut. She will never be able to expel it."

"I... I accept," Kanrawee began, but Kamdam cut her off.

"Know this: such power demands a price," he said with a sneer.

"What kind of price?" she asked, confused.

"This curse is ancient, powerful, and unpredictable. It will bring unbearable torment to your target—but every curse echoes back to its source. If anything disrupts the ritual or the curse is broken, it will return to you... amplified."

Kanrawee's breath caught. Fear flitted across her face, but her anger pushed her forward.

"You must understand," he continued, "this magic is alive. Once unleashed, it moves with a will of its own. If the curse is broken, it will crawl back to you. And when it does... it will bring pain far greater than what you inflicted."

"You will feel something invisible crushing your bones. It will consume your mind and soul. You won't simply suffer—you will vanish, piece by piece, until nothing remains."

The words made her shiver as though winter had swept into her bones. But Kanrawee steadied herself and said with quiet resolve:

"I understand... and I accept."

Kamdam studied her face, saw the madness in her eyes, and smiled cruelly.

He began chanting in an ancient tongue, his voice deep and rhythmic. Holding the buffalo hide, he blew on it with a single heavy breath. For a moment, it trembled... then vanished into thin air.

"It is done. The curse begins tonight. No one can save her now," he said, his voice hollow.

"I'll transfer the payment as agreed," she said without emotion.

Kamdam nodded. No warning could stop the fury in her heart. He turned away, vanishing into the shadows of the hut, leaving Kanrawee alone to face the consequences of the path she had chosen.

A Curse Creeps in the Night

The night had passed slowly, filled with warmth and passion between Teerathep and Nattarinee. She now lay on his bed, still wrapped in the afterglow of his embrace. Her heart was full of love, still racing from the intimate moment they had shared. But that happiness was about to be shattered.

As she began to drift into sleep, a strange pain stirred in her stomach. It started as a cold, heavy weight pressing down from within—then slowly twisted into something sharp, stabbing, and unbearable.

She shifted, trying to ease the discomfort, but it only grew worse. It felt like thorns piercing her from the inside, like something invisible and wicked gnawing at her body.

"Teer... I... it hurts..." she whispered, her voice trembling.

The pain stole her breath. Her body trembled. Tears spilled from her eyes.

Teerathep, lying beside her, noticed instantly. He turned to find her curled up in agony, her face contorted in pain.

"Natt! What's wrong?" he asked, panic in his voice. He sat up, trying to help her.

Nattarinee clutched her abdomen tightly, her breaths shallow.

"My stomach... It feels like... something's in there..."

The pain was spreading, consuming her. Teerathep's heart raced with fear. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew it wasn't normal.

"We're going to the hospital. Now."

Without wasting another second, he leapt from the bed, quickly pulled on his clothes, and gently lifted her into his arms.

Her body trembled violently. It felt as though some unseen force was crushing her from the inside. She clung to him, hoping—desperately—that he could save her.

He carried her to the car, his hands shaking as he turned the key in the ignition. As he drove through the silent streets, the night stretched endlessly before him.

"Hold on, Natt. We're almost there," he murmured, trying to sound calm.

But fear gripped him tightly. Deep down, he could feel it—something dark, unnatural was at work.

When they arrived at the hospital, he rushed her to the emergency room. Doctors and nurses immediately took her in, while he stood frozen outside, helpless.

Each second felt like an eternity. He could only pray. Pray that she would survive. Pray they could find the cause. But somewhere deep in his soul, a dread had taken root.

He sensed it—the shadow of something ancient and evil creeping into their lives.