The Black Desert of Hallucinations
(The King’s dream was the prelude to the curse.)
A vast desert of black sand stretched endlessly before him.
The King stood alone in the middle of it.
The sky hung oppressively low,
and a crimson mist coiled ominously around him.
And in the distance—
It was standing there.
The King narrowed his eyes.
It had the shape of a man, yet it could not be called human.
Its shoulders were grotesquely twisted,
its limp arms dangling like those of a broken doll.
And then—
It began to walk toward him.
No sound.
It drifted across the sand as if floating, drawing closer in eerie silence.
“Who are you?”
The question left his lips instinctively.
There was no answer.
Instead, it simply parted its lips—
revealing a twisted, unsettling smile.
A sudden, piercing pain shot through the King’s skull like a bolt of lightning.
His vision warped,
the world around him convulsing.
“Urgh…!”
He staggered, his knees sinking into the sand.
And then,
a whisper—low and cold—slithered into his ears.
“Did you not say… you would listen to the end?”
His eyes widened in shock.
And before he could react—
The crimson mist surged forward,
swallowing him whole.
Reality – The Beginning of the Curse
The King jolted upright in bed.
His body was drenched in cold sweat,
his heart pounding violently against his ribs.
A dream.
But to dismiss it as just a dream—
It had been far too vivid.
His fingertips tingled. His hands trembled.
Slowly, cautiously,
he raised a hand to his face.
And at that moment—
A chilling sensation crawled up his spine.
He realized it.
He was smiling.
The First Addiction
The King stumbled out of bed,
his legs weak beneath him as he rushed to the mirror.
And the moment he saw himself—
His breath caught in his throat.
He was smiling.
It was not an expression of joy.
His lips were curled unnaturally,
forced into an eerie grin that did not belong to him.
A smile that was—inhuman.
“What… is this?”
His trembling hands clawed at his face,
desperately trying to wipe the smile away.
But it did not fade.
And then—
A voice echoed inside his skull.
“O King, the tale has only just begun.”
The King’s gaze locked onto his reflection.
What stared back at him was no longer himself.
He gripped the mirror,
his voice a desperate whisper.
“Is there no turning back now?”
No answer came.
Only the reflection in the mirror—
Smiling wider.
🔥 The second night begins.
🔥 Now, there is no turning back.
🔥 And the smile on his face… will never fade.