The Ghoul’s Cave – Curse of Blood

Part One: The Ghoul’s Cave

In a remote village surrounded by dense forests and silent mountains, there was an old legend passed down for generations, warning people never to enter the Black Cave on the western slope. They said whoever entered never returned, and their screams echoed through the mountains for days.

But Salem, a daring young man who didn’t believe in such tales, decided to prove the legend was just a myth. One moonlit night, he took his lantern and entered the forest, ignoring the warnings of elders and the fearful glances of the villagers.

He reached the cave around midnight. Its entrance looked like the mouth of a starving beast, reeking of rot and blood. With every step deeper inside, the darkness thickened and the silence pounded in his ears like a drum.

Suddenly, he heard a soft sound—like moaning—followed by the cracking of bones. He turned quickly but saw nothing… only shadows dancing on the cave walls. He went further, until he reached a vast chamber where bones of humans and animals hung from the ceiling like decorations for a funeral feast.

Then came the whisper…

"You came… alone?"

His blood froze. The voice was deep and distorted, rising from the depths of the cave. From the darkness emerged a massive creature, taller than any man, with cracked gray skin and glowing red eyes. Its breath smelled like an open grave.

The ghoul.

Salem ran, but tripped over a rotting corpse. He turned—too late. The ghoul was approaching, grinning with long, jagged teeth. He screamed with all his might, but no one heard. He had entered the Ghoul’s Domain, where humans never return, and screams become food for the monsters.

By morning, the villagers found Salem’s shattered lantern at the cave entrance—stained with blood that hadn’t dried.

Salem was never seen again.

But on cold, windless nights, some villagers swear they hear a whisper from the mountain:

"You came alone… now you're one of us."

Part Two: Blood Curse

Three years passed since Salem vanished. His story became a chilling fireside tale. But Layan, his younger sister, never forgot.

She was convinced Salem was still alive—or that something about his disappearance remained hidden. She began having visions in her dreams: a cave, fire, and Salem’s voice whispering her name.

One night, the dream changed. She saw Salem standing at the cave, his eyes glowing red, his voice hoarse:

"Don’t come in, Layan… or you’ll be next."

She woke terrified, but determined. The next day, she grabbed a lantern and a small dagger, and headed to the cave at dusk.

Inside, the cave felt alive. Breathing. The walls pulsed. Then she saw something glimmer—Salem’s iron necklace, the one he never took off. As soon as she picked it up, the air froze.

A shadow loomed.

"The curse broke when you entered… but he’s hungry now."

She couldn’t move.

From the shadows emerged Salem—or what was left of him. His face no longer human. Cracked skin. Burning eyes.

"There’s little left of me, Layan… I’ve become one of them. But I still fight. There’s a way out… but you won’t bear this curse alone."

Suddenly, the walls began bleeding. Laughter echoed. Salem yelled:

"Seal the entrance—before the ghoul escapes with you!"

She barely made it out, pushing a huge rock across the cave mouth. Then she collapsed, crying.

But she hadn’t noticed one thing.

A scratch on her hand. A drop of blood.

It seeped into the ground of the ghoul’s realm.

That night, the dream came again.

But this time… it wasn’t Salem who called her.

"Layan… you are now the key."

Part Three: The Blood Gate

After returning, Layan was no longer the same.

She heard whispers no one else could hear… saw faces in mirrors… felt the cave’s breath in her dreams.

One morning, strange words appeared etched into her bedroom wall. Not written—scratched, like with a claw. She somehow understood them:

"Your blood is the key… open the gate."

She visited the old madman of the village—the only one who still warned of the true ghouls. When he saw her, he trembled.

"They’ve marked you… their blood runs in you. You are the vessel. The Gate awaits."

That night, Layan returned to the cave.

But it had vanished.

The entrance was gone. The mountain was silent. The ground cracked beneath her, and she fell into darkness filled with bones and glowing eyes.

At the bottom, she stood before the Gate—not of stone or metal, but of stretched human flesh. It pulsed like a heartbeat.

She approached. Her old wound reopened.

A single drop of blood fell on the gate.

It screamed.

And opened.

From inside came the Elder Ghoul—not like the others. He had human eyes… and a familiar voice.

"Layan… I am your father."

She froze.

Part Four: The Torn Queen

His voice… it was the same one from her childhood. But warped. His smile too wide, like he’d forgotten how to be human.

"We fed the cave with souls… until you came."

He stepped closer.

"You buried my body, yes—but not my soul. It was taken here… like yours. You were made for this."

She shook with rage and confusion.

Suddenly, the walls trembled.

Something older than ghouls awakened.

From beyond the gate emerged forgotten creatures—horned, burned-faced beings that spoke without mouths.

"We are the Watchers of the Gate. We open only for the one who bears fire and darkness."

They bowed to her.

"You are the prophecy… the one who ends or consumes."

She realized she had a choice.

Open the gate: doom the human world.

Close it: bury her own soul.

She chose… neither.

She reached out, gathering both darkness and light in her palms.

"I will be neither their servant… nor their destroyer.

I will be their Queen."

The power surged.

Her body cracked.

The ghouls screamed.

Even her father was thrown back.

Then light exploded.

Part Five: The Queen Who Doesn’t Sleep

Layan vanished.

No body.

No trace of the ghouls.

The cave—sealed again.

But silence never lasts.

In the village, clocks stopped at midnight.

Forests twisted unnaturally.

Children whispered her name in their sleep:

"Layan… Layan… Layan."

**

Somewhere between worlds…

She awoke.

Not quite alive. Not quite dead.

In The Threshold—a space without time, sky, or ground.

Her soul had been torn, then remade.

she was no longer human.

No longer ghoul.

She was… something new.

Her father—faded, exhausted—stood before her.

"You did what no one ever did.

You didn’t open the gate.

You didn’t close it.

You became it."

She looked at him.

Her voice came layered—like a thousand spirits speaking at once:

"I won’t let them destroy.

But I won’t let humans forget either."

She scattered parts of her soul across the world…

In caves. In forests. In the dreams of children.

Wherever fear whispered—a shard of her watched.

Epilogue: The Legend of Layan

100 years later…

They tell stories of The Queen Who Doesn’t Sleep.

She watches from the shadows.

Some say she walks the forests.

Others say she visits nightmares.

In each generation, a child is born who dreams of the cave, the blood, the girl at the gate.

When asked who she is, they always answer:

"Layan."

Part One: The Ghoul’s Cave

In a remote village surrounded by dense forests and silent mountains, there was an old legend passed down for generations, warning people never to enter the Black Cave on the western slope. They said whoever entered never returned, and their screams echoed through the mountains for days.

But Salem, a daring young man who didn’t believe in such tales, decided to prove the legend was just a myth. One moonlit night, he took his lantern and entered the forest, ignoring the warnings of elders and the fearful glances of the villagers.

He reached the cave around midnight. Its entrance looked like the mouth of a starving beast, reeking of rot and blood. With every step deeper inside, the darkness thickened and the silence pounded in his ears like a drum.

Suddenly, he heard a soft sound—like moaning—followed by the cracking of bones. He turned quickly but saw nothing… only shadows dancing on the cave walls. He went further, until he reached a vast chamber where bones of humans and animals hung from the ceiling like decorations for a funeral feast.

Then came the whisper…

"You came… alone?"

His blood froze. The voice was deep and distorted, rising from the depths of the cave. From the darkness emerged a massive creature, taller than any man, with cracked gray skin and glowing red eyes. Its breath smelled like an open grave.

The ghoul.

Salem ran, but tripped over a rotting corpse. He turned—too late. The ghoul was approaching, grinning with long, jagged teeth. He screamed with all his might, but no one heard. He had entered the Ghoul’s Domain, where humans never return, and screams become food for the monsters.

By morning, the villagers found Salem’s shattered lantern at the cave entrance—stained with blood that hadn’t dried.

Salem was never seen again.

But on cold, windless nights, some villagers swear they hear a whisper from the mountain:

"You came alone… now you're one of us."

Part Two: Blood Curse

Three years passed since Salem vanished. His story became a chilling fireside tale. But Layan, his younger sister, never forgot.

She was convinced Salem was still alive—or that something about his disappearance remained hidden. She began having visions in her dreams: a cave, fire, and Salem’s voice whispering her name.

One night, the dream changed. She saw Salem standing at the cave, his eyes glowing red, his voice hoarse:

"Don’t come in, Layan… or you’ll be next."

She woke terrified, but determined. The next day, she grabbed a lantern and a small dagger, and headed to the cave at dusk.

Inside, the cave felt alive. Breathing. The walls pulsed. Then she saw something glimmer—Salem’s iron necklace, the one he never took off. As soon as she picked it up, the air froze.

A shadow loomed.

"The curse broke when you entered… but he’s hungry now."

She couldn’t move.

From the shadows emerged Salem—or what was left of him. His face no longer human. Cracked skin. Burning eyes.

"There’s little left of me, Layan… I’ve become one of them. But I still fight. There’s a way out… but you won’t bear this curse alone."

Suddenly, the walls began bleeding. Laughter echoed. Salem yelled:

"Seal the entrance—before the ghoul escapes with you!"

She barely made it out, pushing a huge rock across the cave mouth. Then she collapsed, crying.

But she hadn’t noticed one thing.

A scratch on her hand. A drop of blood.

It seeped into the ground of the ghoul’s realm.

That night, the dream came again.

But this time… it wasn’t Salem who called her.

"Layan… you are now the key."

Part Three: The Blood Gate

After returning, Layan was no longer the same.

She heard whispers no one else could hear… saw faces in mirrors… felt the cave’s breath in her dreams.

One morning, strange words appeared etched into her bedroom wall. Not written—scratched, like with a claw. She somehow understood them:

"Your blood is the key… open the gate."

She visited the old madman of the village—the only one who still warned of the true ghouls. When he saw her, he trembled.

"They’ve marked you… their blood runs in you. You are the vessel. The Gate awaits."

That night, Layan returned to the cave.

But it had vanished.

The entrance was gone. The mountain was silent. The ground cracked beneath her, and she fell into darkness filled with bones and glowing eyes.

At the bottom, she stood before the Gate—not of stone or metal, but of stretched human flesh. It pulsed like a heartbeat.

She approached. Her old wound reopened.

A single drop of blood fell on the gate.

It screamed.

And opened.

From inside came the Elder Ghoul—not like the others. He had human eyes… and a familiar voice.

"Layan… I am your father."

She froze.

Part Four: The Torn Queen

His voice… it was the same one from her childhood. But warped. His smile too wide, like he’d forgotten how to be human.

"We fed the cave with souls… until you came."

He stepped closer.

"You buried my body, yes—but not my soul. It was taken here… like yours. You were made for this."

She shook with rage and confusion.

Suddenly, the walls trembled.

something older than ghouls awakened.

From beyond the gate emerged forgotten creatures—horned, burned-faced beings that spoke without mouths.

"We are the Watchers of the Gate. We open only for the one who bears fire and darkness."

They bowed to her.

"You are the prophecy… the one who ends or consumes."

She realized she had a choice.

Open the gate: doom the human world.

Close it: bury her own soul.

She chose… neither.

She reached out, gathering both darkness and light in her palms.

"I will be neither their servant… nor their destroyer.

I will be their Queen."

The power surged.

Her body cracked.

The ghouls screamed.

Even her father was thrown back.

Then light exploded.

Part Five: The Queen Who Doesn’t Sleep

Layan vanished.

No body.

No trace of the ghouls.

The cave—sealed again.

But silence never lasts.

In the village, clocks stopped at midnight.

Forests twisted unnaturally.

Children whispered her name in their sleep:

"Layan… Layan… Layan."

**

Somewhere between worlds…

She awoke.

Not quite alive. Not quite dead.

In The Threshold—a space without time, sky, or ground.

Her soul had been torn, then remade.

She was no longer human.

No longer ghoul.

She was… something new.

Her father—faded, exhausted—stood before her.

"You did what no one ever did.

You didn’t open the gate.

You didn’t close it.

You became it."

She looked at him.

Her voice came layered—like a thousand spirits speaking at once:

"I won’t let them destroy.

But I won’t let humans forget either."

She scattered parts of her soul across the world…

In caves. In forests. In the dreams of children.

Wherever fear whispered—a shard of her watched.

Epilogue: The Legend of Layan

100 years later…

They tell stories of The Queen Who Doesn’t Sleep.

She watches from the shadows.

Some say she walks the forests.

Others say she visits nightmares.

In each generation, a child is born who dreams of the cave, the blood, the girl at the gate.

When asked who she is, they always answer:

"Layan."