Title – The Curse of Vorrick
Thousands of years ago, when the seas belonged to legends and the skies were black with smoke from warships, there sailed a pirate feared across every known coast—Captain Kael Vorrick. Ruthless, cunning, and obsessed with myths, Kael chased whispers of a hidden island that shimmered on no map, a place sailors called "Serpent's Grief."
When Kael and his crew finally reached the island, they found more than treasure—they found a curse born from ancient magic. Deep in a serpentine cave, they fought monstrous creatures: snakes with glistening black scales, and at their heart, a towering serpent with three heads that guarded a hoard of gold and relics.
Many of Kael's men perished, torn apart by the beasts. Kael barely escaped, clutching a handful of treasure—but he had unknowingly taken more than gold. Among the glittering coins was a carved obsidian gem—the seal of an ancient curse. Not only had he stolen treasure… he had stolen the cure that bound the curse to its prison.
From that day on, the curse passed down Kael's bloodline:
"Those born of Vorrick will lose the one who loves them most."
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Generations passed. The golden age of pirates vanished beneath the waves of time, swallowed by steamships, wars, and forgotten myths. But the curse of Captain Kael Vorrick did not die with him—it lived on, buried deep in the bloodline of his descendants, waiting for love to bloom… so it could rip it away.
Tyson Vorrick had never believed in fairy tales or fate. He was a quiet man—an analyst in a dull corporate job, known for his solitude and silence. He walked like a ghost through the corridors of his office, always polite, always distant. His colleagues said he was strange. Some said he was cold. But none of them knew the truth.
Tyson was born in silence—his mother died the night he was born. No illness, no warning. She simply held her newborn son, smiled with tears in her eyes… and took her last breath. Doctors found no reason. His father never spoke of it. But Tyson grew up with the weight of that death pressing into his chest.
Then came Zara.
She was everything he wasn't—bright, warm, talkative. The new girl in the office, with laughter that melted the room. Tyson didn't believe in fate, but from the moment their eyes met across the glass divider, something ancient stirred in his bones.
Days passed. They started having lunch together. Movie nights. Long walks in the rain. Zara didn't try to change him—she simply understood his silence. Slowly, Tyson smiled more. Laughed more. He fell in love—and for the first time, love didn't scare him.
They married quietly, with close friends and soft vows under twilight skies.
But happiness, in the Vorrick bloodline, was always borrowed time.
Just weeks after their wedding, Zara fell sick.
No doctor had answers. No medicine worked. Her body grew weaker, her eyes dimmer, like something unseen was draining the life from her.
Tyson, desperate and broken, turned to his father.
"Why does this always happen to us?" he asked, voice shaking. "Why do we always lose the ones we love?"
His father, weathered and tired, only shook his head. "Some things in our blood we never question. Maybe it's just bad luck, son."
But Tyson refused to accept that. Not anymore.
That night, searching for old files in their basement, Tyson found something buried beneath a rusted chest. A leather-bound book, brittle with age. On the first page, in blackened ink, was a name:
Kael Vorrick.
His great-grandfather.
Tyson opened it.
And the past came flooding back...