CURSED

CHAPTER 3

Matteo POV

Few days later,

My father, Alex Lockwood, a well-known London millionaire businessman, and I walked approaching the ICU entrance. He was the CEO of a global technology company.

"I'm going to speak with Sylvie's father," he said. He didn't believe Sylvie's parents had turned me down. Despite the fact that I informed my father about the curse, he wanted to come and persuade Sylvie's father, Peter. When we entered the hospital room, Peter and Daisy were seated next to Sylvie. When my gaze fell on Sylvie, I couldn't help but smile, as joy flashed through me like a comet.

"Matteo," she whispered, a tear streaming down her cheek. She wanted to take a seat, but her parents insisted that she lay down.

"How are you, dear?" my father inquired. Her parents were scowling as we stood at her bed.

"I'm fine, Uncle," she told us, a slight smile on her face. My father’s introduction broke the uneasy silence in the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Peter Thomas. Alex Lockwood, Matteo's father," he said, extending his hand to shake his hand. Peter, on the other hand, did not return the motion and simply nodded.

"Matteo informed me of the broken engagement, Mr. Peter. Instead of living in the twenty-first century, I feel you should not believe in this foolish curse. It was merely a little mishap, and both children are doing OK now," Dad told him this in the hopes that he would grasp our love and forget about the curse.

"Sir, I am overjoyed that my daughter has made such a wonderful friend. But she can't be more of Matteo than that," He let out a long sigh. I approached him to persuade him, but was interrupted by Sylvie's voice, "Dad, please hear them out once." Peter, on the other hand, made a gesture toward the door.

"I'm glad my daughter is still alive; if she marries or becomes engaged, she will die like all of our forefathers' daughters. As a result, it's best if you both leave us," He sneered. The insult was too much for Dad, and he stormed out of the ICU. To ease his rage, I followed him.

"Please don't be angry, Dad," I moaned. He reached inside his pocket and placed his hands on my shoulder.

"You're squandering your time. Put that girl out of your mind and move on," He stated quietly, his eyes pinned to mine. I felt a smidgeon of annoyance inside me and shook my head in response to his response.

"Then get over this curse and be a blessing in her life," he added as he left the hospital. My phone began to ring, and I realised it was Reed who was calling. I answered the phone. "Where have you gone, dude? I have something crucial to show you. Please arrive at my residence as soon as possible."

"All right, I'll be there."

For one last time, I returned my gaze to Sylvie's room. Later, when I arrived to Reed's place, he showed me the CCTV tape of the collision on his computer, in which I saw the same girl standing in front of our car, unaffected as the car passed over her.

"She is the same young lady. Our accident occurred as a result of her."

"Yes, I'm aware of your proposal date and have a video of it." He started watching a video of my date night. I noticed the same girl standing behind the window glass, gazing Sylvie down with scorn and hatred. Sylvie was pinning her eyes with mine as I was pinning hers.

"However, who is she?" I interrogated him.

"I'm not sure," Reed replied, "but there is one person who can tell us who she is." Then he drove me to a classic house on the outskirts of town. When we first entered the house, it exuded a tremendous vibe. It was crammed with literature, magical crafts, and vintage antiques.

A 40-year-old man stepped down the stairs, holding various spell cast books and narrowing his eyes as if studying us. He wore a black gown and broad spectacles and narrowed his eyes as if studying us.

"Hello, Mr. Reed," Professor said with a brusque nod as he took a seat in his chair.

"Professor Beth, hello. I've contacted you regarding the curse," Reed hesitantly said. While inserting the images of that accident girl and recordings of the proposal night and accident. He carefully examined each image and zoomed in and out of the films several times.

"I find it hard to comprehend that such things still exist. It's a well-established case of supernatural powers coexisting," He was ecstatic. I couldn't stop myself from pestering him with questions.

"Can you tell me who she is?"

"She is a witch. She is the witch who is afflicted by the curse or is aware that she is afflicted by the curse. I know she's the curse's keeper, but I don't know much else," As he led us to his study, he added. He brought us coffee and put the photos and pen drive in the locker.

"However, how is she the curse's keeper?"

"There are various witches' cultures, but there is also myoculture. How does it work in a culture that believes in generation curses when the cursor and the cursed person die but the curse lives on for generations, generation after generation?"

"That curse is carried out with the assistance of the witch."

"Boy, you're a genius. The curse is tied to the bad witch when it is given. It is the cursed witch's responsibility to carry out her mission in reality."

"It denotes when a curse must be lifted. Then track down the evil witch who is linked to the curse and put a stop to it "Looking through his magical books, I said.

"Again, clever," the professor complimented me as he sipped his coffee.

"But which evil witch is responsible for this curse? How would we be aware of this?" Reed interjected with his reservations. The professor maintained his coffee mug and pulled himself closer to Reed in his chair.

"It's difficult, not impossible, but it's so difficult that it's impossible," growled the professor. He walked over to the window and removed his cross chain from around his neck.

"There has to be a solution or a treatment to deal with it," Reed speculated. The professor approached me aggressively and grabbed his hand firmly.

"Witches don't need cures; humans do. And, in particular, these types of witches are neither cured nor given any means of confronting them. So, forget about your love and live with another girl," he moaned.

"No, I'm not going to leave her. For my love, I am prepared to fight back against that witch," I informed him of my decision. My love isn't so frail that it would give up easily. I've promised to live with her and die with her.

"That's not very intelligent, is it? Fights are always between equals, with an enemy that you can see and hit. However, she will only attack you in this situation. This cursed witch is off limits to you. Simply return to your home," Professor Beth strolled up to his book shelves, chuckling maliciously. I was irritated by his dismissive statement about me.

"I haven't come to beg for advice; I've come to ask for your help," I stated emphatically. With a stern expression, he paused flicking the book pages and twisted about.

"If I asked you to go to the cemetery by yourself at 12 a.m. Would you say yes? You will quiver and pee in your pants as a result of your fright. And you want to go head-to-head with the witch. It's not a joke, lover boy, but a death game. I don't want your blood to stain my hand. So, I'm sorry, but I'm unable to help you in this case. Simply sip the coffee quickly and return home "He mocked, slammed the book close, and went out of the room.

We were left behind, with no alternative except to leave his home without help. But I can't give up hope and put my hands up without attempting to free Sylvie from the curse.