The Simcronomicon is a powerful spell book. Any hapless soul that lay their eyes on its tattered face and its arcane pages are cursed by its ritual. But a curse is a blessing in disguise. The Simcronomicon, though its origins is unknown, grants any wish to its victim.

As its pages are bound by an evil and arcane essence, failure to complete any ritual would guarantee damnation.

Be tempted. Pick a challenge and enjoy.*

*requires Sims 4 and a sadistic curiosity towards virtual people.

December 22, 2014


The decor was arranged to relax clients and patients. The walls were painted dark red, and the furniture were all made in leather. The windows were wide open, inviting the fresh air that hailed from the mountains. Medical books and journals were arranged in alphabetic order at one bookcase, while another was filled with children books.

Sisi was lying down adjacent to Dr. Wright. She stared at the ceiling, concentrating at the blank, white space above her. She then clenched her teeth and then squeezed her eyes, staving off the pain that assaulted her mind.

"Have you been taking your medications?" asked Dr. Wright.

"I have, and they get me to sleep. But..." said Sisi.

Dr. Wright looked from his writing pad, waiting for Sisi to continue.

"But I can't take them anymore."

"Why is that?"

"When I get to sleep, I return to that house."

"The abandoned house?"

Sisi nodded. "They try to pull me in, get me stuck in that house. I fight them off. Ghosts. You know they can be punched or kicked just like any other? Maybe in my dreams. I'm not sure if they're dreams anymore. When I get free, I run out of that house only to come back to it."

"Then how do you escape?"

"I drown."

Dr. Wright wrote on his pad. The notes were separation anxiety, guilt, abandonment issues.

"I drown myself until I come back to reality. But the crazy thing is, I cough out water."

"And you're sure it's not spittle or phlegm."

She shook her head and turned to Dr. Wright. Her eyes had the hint of defeat and of sleepless nights.

After their session, Dr. Wright prescribed the same medication but with a higher dosage. Sisi's narcolepsy had become a problem to her career. At the behest of her agent, she was scheduled to meet with her doctor every week to find a cure or at least a reprieve from her malaise.

When Sisi stepped out of the doctor's office, the sims in the waiting room recognized her. Even the affluent of Bridgeport asked for her autograph or a selfie. Sisi always agreed to it, and she forced her smiles.

Before she stepped out in public, Sisi wore her sunglasses. She checked herself on the mirror and fixed her hair, making sure she looked good for the paparazzi. At the edges of the mirror, Sisi saw them staring at her, peeking from the edges—the ghosts she had left behind.

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