The Curse.

Mia drops the book, and stares at the painting in disbelief. She can't believe what she's seeing. She can't believe what it means. She and Leo are the lovers of Babylon, the king and the priestess, who defied the gods and were cursed to be reborn and separated for eternity.

She feels a rush of memories, of emotions, of pain. She remembers their love, their joy, their sorrow. She remembers their death, their rebirth, their loss. She remembers the witch, the curse, the cycle.

She hears a voice in her head, a voice that haunts her dreams, a voice that seals her fate.

"You will never be together, you will never be happy, you will never be free. You will live and die, and live and die, and live and die again. You will always find each other, and you will always lose each other. You will always love each other, and you will always suffer. This is your punishment, this is your destiny, this is your curse."

Mia feels a tear roll down her cheek, and a sob escape her lips. She feels a hand on her shoulder, and a voice in her ear.

"Mia, what's wrong? What happened?" Leo says, his voice full of concern.

He had heard her scream, and had rushed out of the room. He had seen her on the floor, holding the book, looking at the painting. He had recognized the painting, and had felt a shock of recognition. He had felt the same memories, the same emotions, the same pain.

He had realized the truth, and had felt a surge of fear.

He kneels down next to her, and wraps his arms around her. He tries to comfort her, to calm her, to reassure her.

"Mia, it's okay. It's okay. We're okay. We're here, we're alive, we're together. We can break the curse, we can end the cycle, we can be happy. We just have to find a way, we just have to stick together, we just have to love each other."

He kisses her hair, and holds her tight. He hopes he's right, he hopes he's not lying, he hopes he's not doomed.

He doesn't know that someone is listening, and that someone is smiling. He doesn't know that someone is watching, and that someone is waiting. He doesn't know that someone is plotting, and that someone is ready. He doesn't know that someone is about to make their move, and that someone is about to strike. He doesn't know that their nightmare is about to begin.