Spell… H-A-L-L-O-W-E-E-N returns in 2025! It’s another month of supernatural content waiting for you.

Magical corruption takes the spotlight in today’s piece of microfiction.

If Terror Is What They Wanted…

The pain was unlike anything Jake had ever experienced. It started as a dull ache in his stomach, but soon it felt as if something was clawing its way out of him, shredding his insides. He couldn’t think straight, let alone breathe. All he could do was curl up on the floor and pray for it to stop.

But it didn’t. Instead, the pain grew worse, and with it came a strange sensation of something alien, twisting and writhing, and fighting for control. Jake could feel its malicious presence burrowing deeper into his mind and body.

He could see it too, or at least he thought he could. A dark, pulsating mass that seemed to be made of shadow and smoke, glowing with an eerie green light. It was consuming him.

And all the while, he could hear their laughter. The demonic women who had cursed him and doomed him to this fate. They watched him from the shadows, eyes gleaming with malice, and lips curled into cruel smiles. They reveled in his suffering, took pleasure in his pain.

Jake wanted to fight back, to resist the parasite’s control, to tear himself away from their twisted grasp. But he was too weak, too wounded, too far gone. He was slipping away, the last vestiges of his humanity being devoured by the darkness within.

And still, they laughed. Their cruel, mocking laughter echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of his failure.

He was theirs now, a pawn in their twisted game, a plaything for their malicious amusement. He was no longer human, no longer himself. He was something else, something beyond redemption.

And as he embraced his new form and gave in to the parasite’s control, he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. If terror is what they wanted, terror is what they would get.