The Cursed Bond

By Ilanila

The Vengeful Presence at the Resort

Two girls, Nanya and Amaya, shared a bond so deep that nothing could break them. They knew each other’s secrets, dreams, and fears. When one was broken, the other held her together.

> “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Amaya often said.

“You’ll never have to find out,” Nanya would reply with a grin.

But lately, they felt they weren’t spending enough time together. To fix that, Nanya suggested a holiday trip to a remote resort. Amaya agreed instantly. With Nanya by my side, nothing can hurt me, she thought.

They chose a retreat hidden deep in the wilderness, far from the city. By evening, they arrived. The place was beautiful yet unsettling — cloaked in a graveyard-like stillness, broken only by occasional bird calls. When they tried to inform their parents they had reached safely, they were shocked to find no mobile network.

The resort seemed almost deserted, with no other visitors. The staff eyed Amaya strangely whenever she spoke to Nanya. As twilight deepened, the employees began gathering their things to leave.

Confused, Amaya asked the receptionist,

> “Why does everyone disappear at night?”

The man gave a nervous smile.

> “We return in the morning. Nights here… are not safe. And remember — never approach the old chamber at the end of the corridor.”

His words sounded rehearsed, as though he had repeated the warning countless times.

---

                                             3 AM

That night, at 3 AM, Amaya woke suddenly. Strange sounds echoed through the halls — dragging footsteps, faint murmurs, a door creaking open. She turned to Nanya’s bed. It was empty.

> “Nanya? Where are you?” she called softly.

At first, she thought Nanya was playing one of her usual tricks. But then, the noises faded, replaced by the sound of quiet sobbing.

> “Nanya, don’t tease me! Please come out, I’m frightened!”

No response. 

The weeping grew louder, pulling her toward the forbidden room. Its door stood slightly ajar, icy air spilling out. Inside, on a dusty table, lay an old diary.

When Amaya opened it, the pages were blank. Then, as though guided by an unseen hand, words etched themselves across the paper:

> “I trusted her. My companion. But she betrayed me in this place. My heart stopped, yet my rage endured. If I could not keep my friend, then no bond shall survive. Whenever two souls walk together, I will rise. I will tear them apart, as I was torn.”

Amaya’s breath caught. Her hands trembled as the diary slammed shut by itself. From the corners of the room, shadow-like figures crawled out, their voices whispering:

> “friendship… friendship… it must end…”

---

                                         The Pursuit

Terrified, Amaya fled, the creatures scraping the walls as they followed, their hollow eyes glowing faintly. She stumbled into the garden, heart pounding.

> “Stay away! Please!” she screamed.

A new sound arose — wet, metallic scraping. She turned back. From inside a rusted pipeline, a distorted face pushed forward, its sockets glowing, its mouth stretched unnaturally wide. With a sickening crack, the presence forced its twisted body through the narrow tunnel, crawling toward her, its ghastly features fixed on hers.

Suddenly there was a noise from the swimming pool. Amaya turned. The water was eerily still — so still it felt wrong, as though the entire place held its breath.

Then, from beneath the bluish glow of the pool lights, something stirred. At first it was only a shadow, shapeless and slow. But as it drifted closer, a face began to emerge — deathly pale, almost luminous against the dark water. It was a woman. Her skin looked drained of life, her lips bluish, her hair unfurling like black smoke through the water.

Her eyes were wide open, staring straight upward, unblinking and glassy. Slowly, impossibly, her body rose toward the surface. Yet the water didn’t ripple. No bubbles, no waves — nothing disturbed the stillness, as though she wasn’t part of this world at all.

Closer and closer she drifted, her empty gaze fixed on Amaya. The silence pressed harder, and in that moment Amaya realized — it wasn’t merely rising. It was advancing toward her.

Suddenly, a hand clutched her shoulder. It was Nanya.

Before Amaya could speak, everything went black.

---

                                              Awakening

When she opened her eyes, she was lying in her room. Her family sat around her, faces pale with worry.

Confused, she whispered,

> “How… how did you all come here?”

Her mother stroked her hair gently.

> “The staff called us at dawn. They found you unconscious in the garden. We came as fast as we could.”

Amaya’s first thought was Nanya.

> “Where is she? Where’s Nanya? I won’t leave without her.”

Her parents exchanged troubled looks. Finally, her father spoke softly.

> “Amaya… Nanya is gone. She died long ago in an accident, when she left home against her parents’ wishes for her career. We thought you knew.”

Amaya froze. Her voice cracked.

> “No… that can’t be true. She was just with me. She brought me here.”

Her parents explained they believed she was traveling with “office friends,” not Nanya. The truth struck Amaya like a blade — the companion by her side had been her spirit all along.

---

                               The Last Goodbye   

Tears blurred Amaya’s vision. She whispered into the stillness:

> “You were here all along… even when I didn’t know.”

Drawn outside, she walked to the garden. A soft breeze brushed her cheek. A single white petal drifted into her palm — a supernatural imprint, Nanya’s final sign.

Sobbing, Amaya murmured,

> “Why didn’t you tell me? How could you leave me alone in this world?”

The flowers swayed gently, though no wind stirred. Across the garden, she saw Nanya — not solid, but radiant, glowing faintly in the morning light.

Nanya’s spirit smiled, eyes full of love.

> “I never left you. I’ll always be with you.”

Through tears, Amaya smiled.

> “You’re still here… and you always will be.”

Nanya’s figure flickered like sunlight through mist. A single white flower fell into Amaya’s lap. She clutched it to her chest, crying and smiling at once.

As the vision faded, her voice lingered in the breeze:

> “Our bond is stronger than death. You are never alone.”

The quiet around Amaya no longer felt empty. It felt warm — filled with love.

By Ilanila