The city of Lourdes was once a pilgrimage site,
now a skeletal ruin under a violet sky. The air
reeks of rust and ash, and the few survivors
live in fear of the blood moon that rises every
full cycle. Among them is Raul, a man who wears
his brother’s old shirt as a badge of honor. His
younger sister, Marla, has been marked by the
blood curse—her veins glow faintly when the moon
is high, and she hears voices no one else can.
Raul’s father had been a priest before the
collapse, and he taught Raul that the blood
curse was punishment for the sins of the old
world. But Raul knows better. He remembers the
day the church bells stopped ringing, the day
the sky turned black, and the day his father
vanished into the ruins, leaving behind only a
journal and a promise: “Break the chain before
it breaks you.”
Marla’s condition worsens. She starts speaking
in tongues, drawing symbols in the dust with her
fingers. The survivors call her diwata, but Raul
knows she’s not a spirit—she’s a vessel. He
finds an old map in his father’s journal,
leading to the ruins of a convent near Mount
Pinatubo. The path is littered with traps set by
the last cultists who tried to claim the blood
magic for themselves.
At the convent, Raul discovers a sealed crypt
beneath the altar. Inside are relics from the
old world: a chalice, a rosary, and a vial of
red liquid that pulses like a heartbeat. The
journal warns that breaking the curse requires a
sacrifice—not of blood, but of memory. The
ritual demands that the cursed one forget their
past entirely, or the curse will consume them.
Marla resists. She doesn’t want to lose who she
is. But Raul has no choice. He drinks the vial,
and the world around him blurs. Memories of his
father, of his childhood, of the day the sky
fell—all vanish in a flash of crimson light.
When he wakes, the blood moon is gone. The sky
is clear. Marla’s veins are pale again, her
voice steady. The curse is broken—but Raul no
longer remembers why he did it.
He only knows that the wind smells of rain, and
the stars feel closer than they ever have.


