The Cursed Treasure of Pag

A Map of Death

The old library in Zadar smelled of dust and ink, its shelves heavy with books that had seen centuries pass. Nikola sat hunched over an ancient manuscript, its pages brittle beneath his fingers.

*"Bonatti fled to the island of Pag, hiding his plunder beneath the earth before his treacherous crew turned on him. His final words cursed the gold and all who sought it."*

A rough map was sketched in the margins, the ink faded but still legible. Nikola traced the lines with a gloved hand, excitement thrumming in his veins. The location was vague—somewhere along Pag’s northern coast, near a secluded bay.

He glanced at the notes scattered around him. Dozens of accounts, from Venetian records to 19th-century journals, all hinted at the same place. The problem wasn’t finding the cave. The problem was getting out alive.

Nikola leaned back and exhaled. It was time.

The Team Assembles

Treasure hunting wasn’t a solo endeavor, especially not when dealing with something as dangerous as this.

First, there was Luka Petrović—Nikola’s childhood friend and a survival expert who had spent years leading expeditions in the Balkans. If things went south, Luka was the one who could get them out alive.

Then there was Ana Vuković, a professional diver who had mapped underwater caves across the Adriatic. If the treasure was hidden in a flooded cavern, she was their best chance at reaching it.

And finally, Ivan Kovač, a historian who had dedicated his life to uncovering lost artifacts. He wasn’t a fighter, but he knew more about Venetian history than anyone Nikola had ever met. If there was a hidden clue, Ivan would find it.

The four of them met in a small café by the harbor, a storm brewing in the distance.

“I still don’t like this,” Ivan muttered, stirring his coffee. “Every story about this treasure ends in blood.”

“So does history,” Luka said with a grin. “We’re just adding another chapter.”

Nikola spread the map on the table. “We leave at dawn.”

The Island Calls

They arrived on Pag by boat, the cliffs rising like jagged teeth from the sea. The air smelled of salt and stone, and a strong wind whipped through the rocky landscape.

The locals weren’t welcoming.

An old man at the dock shook his head when Nikola mentioned the cave. “Nothing but death waits there,” he said. “Turn back.”

Nikola thanked him and walked on. Superstition wouldn’t stop him now.

Their journey took them north along the coastline, following the crude map from the manuscript. The path was rough, the rocks sharp beneath their boots. Hours passed before Ana spotted something—an opening in the cliffs, half-hidden by overgrown brush.

“This is it,” she said, brushing away the vines. The entrance yawned before them, a dark tunnel leading deep into the earth.

A sudden gust of wind howled through the cave like a whisper. Ivan shivered. “I don’t like this.”

Nikola tightened his grip on the flashlight. “We’re not turning back now.”

Descent into the Unknown

The cave walls closed in as they moved deeper, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. Water dripped from the ceiling, forming pools that reflected their wavering flashlight beams.

After an hour of careful exploration, Ana found an underwater passage.

“It leads further in,” she said, adjusting her diving gear. “We’ll have to go through.”

One by one, they slipped beneath the surface, the cold biting into their skin. The tunnel was narrow, the rock pressing in on either side. For a moment, Nikola felt the weight of the earth above him, the suffocating darkness threatening to pull him under.

Then he surfaced.

They had entered a massive underground chamber, the ceiling lost in shadow. Stalactites hung like frozen daggers, and the air smelled ancient—damp, cold, and untouched by time.

And there, in the center of the cavern, lay the treasure.

Gold coins spilled from broken chests. Jewels glittered in the dim light. An ornate sword lay atop a pile of silver, its blade etched with symbols lost to time.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then Luka reached for a coin.

A whisper filled the air.

The Curse Unleashed

The temperature plummeted. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls.

Luka cried out, his body convulsing. Blood trickled from his nose, his fingers trembling. The coin fell from his grasp, landing with a hollow *clink* against the stone floor.

A voice—low, guttural, and filled with rage—echoed through the cavern.

*"You dare disturb what is mine?"*

Figures emerged from the darkness—ghostly shapes clad in tattered 16th-century garb, their hollow eyes burning with fury. The spectral form of Marco Bonatti stepped forward, his skeletal hand gripping the hilt of a rusted cutlass.

*"You were warned."*

Ivan dropped to his knees, whispering a prayer. Ana clutched her diving knife, though it would do nothing against the dead.

Nikola’s mind raced. The spirits weren’t just protecting the treasure. They were bound to it.

Taking it meant taking their curse.

The Escape

Nikola grabbed Luka’s arm. “Leave it! We have to go!”

The cave shook as the spirits wailed, the sound rising to an unbearable pitch. The ground cracked beneath them, and the treasure—cursed and eternal—began to sink into the earth.

They ran.

Back through the cavern, through the freezing water, through the narrow tunnel that seemed to close around them. The entrance loomed ahead, the first light of dawn breaking over the sea.

With one final burst of strength, they stumbled onto the beach, gasping for air.

The cave behind them collapsed.

The treasure was lost once more.

Epilogue: Some Secrets Should Stay Buried

Luka recovered, but he never spoke of what he saw in those moments when the curse gripped him. Ivan abandoned treasure hunting entirely. Ana left Croatia, never setting foot on Pag again.

As for Nikola, he spent the rest of his life trying to forget.

But some nights, when the wind howled through the rocks, he could still hear the whisper.

*"You were wise to leave… but others will come."*

The treasure of Pag remained where it had always been—waiting.

THE END