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Cursed Viewing

by @morningagate

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3 chapters

~8 min read

Maya Chen has seven days after watching the cursed tape, and the signs aren't pointing to death—they're pointing to something far more invasive. Sadako, the onryō in her tattered burial kimono, crawls out of Maya's screen not to kill her, but to breed her, filling the terrified virgin with a cock born from a well-death. Maya kicks, cries, and pleads as Sadako takes what she wants, leaving nothing but a growing certainty that this is only the beginning.

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MEET THE CHARACTERS

Maya Chen

A 20-year-old college senior with a soft, yielding body that strangers always seem to read as an invitation to girls—full hips, a round ass, and breasts that strain her oversized hoodies. Her roommate jokes that she's 'too pretty to be so timid.' Men pay her no mind, women call her 'sweetheart' and mean it as a warning, she can hear the rape-threats they whisper… and she's spent her whole life apologizing for taking up space. She has long black hair she hides behind and wide, doe-like brown eyes that go glassy with fear faster than she'd like.

Sadako Yamamura

An onryō wearing the tattered white burial kimono of a well-death, her lank black hair hanging in a curtain that hides most of her face except for one wide, unblinking eye. She is unnaturally thin, limbs too long, joints bending at angles that shouldn't work, and her skin is the color of drowned milk. When she crawls, it's with a wet, popping rhythm, and when she finally lifts her head, her mouth opens too wide, revealing a thick, veined cock that stands rigid beneath her stained kimono.

Rachel

Senior in Maya's sociology class. Approached Maya, said 'I know what you are,' and implied she knows about Sadako. Her eyes briefly showed something inhuman.

EXPLORE CHAPTERS

First Static

I'm on my bed, laptop open, when the screen flickers to gray snow and the room goes cold enough to see my breath. A wet, popping sound starts inside the TV, and Sadako's pale fingers push through the

The Crawl Begins

The laptop screen ripples like water, and then Sadako's fingers push through the glass—pale, too long, nails cracked and black—and she pulls herself out with that wet, popping rhythm I've heard in my

The Claiming

Her cold palm grinds the mark on my belly, and I feel her cock slide against my inner thigh, slick and heavy, thick as my wrist. I kick, but my legs are useless, pinned under her impossible weight, an