Cursed | Armando Salazar x OC

ONE

Do you believe in ghost stories? Curses?

No?

Me neither - or at least, I didn't. Not until I met my tragic fate and lost my life to the ocean.

They say when the ocean claims a woman's life, she becomes a mythical creature who lures men to their deaths and preys on their flesh.

I became something worse.

When the ocean spat me out, it left me with a gift which, years later, I discovered was a curse in disguise. A curse that put a bounty on my head.

Ever since I have been looking for a way to break it. I have consulted with men who know the sea like the back of their hands, I read every book, memorized every myth about the ocean and its magic and curses, and when nothing helped my cause, I sought out the company of witches.

And yet, I did not find my answer.

"Why?" With whitened knuckles, I stand in the rowboat and face the black mass of water rippling in the moonlight. It rocks the boat side to side, a soothing rhythm that would normally lull me to sleep. "Why did you make me as I am now?"

A layer of clouds spread across the night sky, shielding the stars from view. Clenching my fists, I feel my nails dig into my palms until they break the skin.

"Why did you spare my life?"

The clouds weave together to block the moon's light. All that remains is its silver glow illuminating the gray wall that expands throughout the sky.

"Why didn't you just... let me drown?"

Those words hardly left my mouth before the ripples turn into waves. Standing my ground, my legs wobble as the boat gets tossed aside as if it weighs nothing. I face the black mass defiantly, eyes brimming with tears of anger and defeat.

Then I look down into the black water and wonder... will it work this time? Will the sack of rocks pull me down far enough for the water to fill my lungs and for the darkness to finally swallow me?

It certainly didn't work the last time.

Or the time before that.

The same thing always happened - the ocean spits me out on dry land and I'm nowhere closer to ending either my life or the curse.

Honestly, I don't want to die. Not again, anyway. I think life itself is a gift that needs to be treasured. And even though I'm ten seconds away from trying to drown myself again, I am grateful for every morning that I get to see the sunrise over the blue horizon, no matter in which hideout or barracks I spent the night in.

But it is days like today that drive me to defy the ocean by threatening to end my life - days spent running and hiding from the soldiers tasked with capturing 'the witch' and giving her a public execution. My noose is waiting on the mainland at my back. The soldiers are combing the beach for me as we speak. All because I tried doing the right thing.

I should have let that sailor drown. Men like him aren't worth saving. They don't deserve to be saved.

"W-witch..." He trembled after I brought him back from his watery death.

The moment that word left his mouth, every citizen that surrounded us turned to me. Their eyes were filled with disgust and... fear. And moments later, a woman cried, 'Witch!' and sent fifteen soldiers running after me through the town.

The scrapes on my arms and legs still sting at all the times I had to jump from a roof or roll across the ground to escape their muskets and pistols.