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Writer's pictureFaiz Faisal

Sunday Short: Cinematic Nightmare II - The Curse of the Silver Screen

PS: This is a sequel to "Cinematic Nightmare". Click here to read if you haven't read the first short story.


Cinema Hall

Mia had always been drawn to horror films, the kind that made her pulse race and her skin crawl. On the night Lee’s murder shocked the town, she had been watching The Haunting of Leigh, a movie about an abduction eerily similar to what happened to Lee. The next morning, the local paper recounted how Lee’s body had been found in a derelict house, tied up and tortured—just like the final scene in the movie.


Chills ran down Mia's spine as she connected the dots. The grim details in the article were no coincidence; they matched the film almost exactly. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something supernatural was at play. To make sense of it all, Mia turned to a horror chatroom she frequented. She had met a small group of horror fans there—Riley, Jess, Mark, and Ethan—and they shared her obsession with the macabre.


“Guys, have you read about Lee’s murder?” Mia typed furiously. “It’s identical to The Haunting of Leigh... something weird is going on.”


The responses came quickly.


Riley: “That’s insane! How could that happen by chance?”


Jess: “No way... Do you think the killer is a copycat?”


Mark: “Or maybe it’s a curse? Like we’re next?”


Ethan: “Haha, please. It’s just a freak coincidence.”


But the more they discussed the strange parallels, the more uneasy Mia felt. They agreed to meet in person to dig deeper, intrigued yet unnerved. Little did they know, their curiosity would trigger something far more dangerous than they could imagine.


A week later, Mia’s unease turned into pure terror. Riley was the first. She was walking home one night when she noticed a figure following her. The man wore a Ghostface-like mask, his presence unmistakably menacing. Panic surged through her as she ran, weaving through alleyways, her breath sharp and ragged. It was as though she had stepped into a scene from Scream. No matter how fast she moved, the figure gained on her, and in one swift motion, he lunged. Her scream echoed, but like in the movie, no one came to her aid. She was found the next morning, her throat slashed, her eyes frozen in horror.


News of Riley’s death rocked the group. Jess, devastated, confessed to Mia the next day that she’d had nightmares—vivid, haunting ones. She dreamt of a man with knives for fingers who chased her in her sleep, just like in Nightmare on Elm Street. The same night Jess shared this, she never woke up. She died in her sleep, her face twisted in anguish. The coroner was baffled; there were no signs of a struggle or trauma. But Mia knew the truth.


As the bodies piled up, Mia’s fear escalated. Mark, an adrenaline junkie, had always boasted that Jaws was his favorite. He frequently surfed and swam in shallow waters, dismissing his friends’ concerns after Riley and Jess’s deaths. But one afternoon, as he waded just off the shore, something attacked. Witnesses recalled a violent thrashing in the water before Mark was dragged under. His body washed ashore hours later, bearing jagged bite marks that resembled those of a great white shark. Mia couldn’t deny the connection now—it was the curse. The same curse that killed Lee was now coming for all of them.


Ethan, ever the skeptic, tried to rationalize the events. He didn't believe in curses, claiming that Final Destination was just a cool concept, nothing more. But fate had other plans. One day, while driving home, a series of bizarre coincidences led to his car swerving into oncoming traffic. The accident was as freakish as the deaths in his favorite film, down to the terrifying chain reaction of crashes. Ethan’s life was snuffed out in a grotesque and brutal twist of fate, and Mia realized the curse was closing in.


Now, Mia was alone, the last survivor. Paranoia seeped into every aspect of her life. She hadn’t slept in days, knowing that her death would likely mirror her own favorite horror movie. And she had always been obsessed with killer dolls. Child’s Play was a childhood staple, and her room was full of collectibles—an eerie Chucky doll sitting in the corner, watching her every move.


That night, as Mia lay in bed, she heard a soft giggle. She sat up, heart pounding. The Chucky doll was no longer in its spot. The eerie sound of tiny feet shuffling reached her ears. Her pulse raced as she grabbed a kitchen knife for protection. Then she saw it—Chucky, or something resembling him, standing in her doorway. Its stitched-up face smiled wickedly, and the doll rushed at her with terrifying speed.


Mia fought for her life, swinging the knife desperately as the doll lunged at her again and again. But something snapped inside her—she wouldn’t go down like her friends. With a final, adrenaline-fueled strike, she sent the doll flying across the room, its plastic head cracking against the wall.


Panting, Mia stood victorious. The doll lay motionless, shattered. She had survived. But even as the danger passed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the curse wasn’t over. Her friends were dead, but she had broken the cycle. Or had she?


As Mia sat alone in her room, the shadows began to lengthen, and the air grew cold. Maybe this wasn’t the end. Maybe the curse had only just begun.


The End... For Now.

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