Eyob Getachew's Key Ideas from Atlas of Cursed Places
by Olivier Le Carrer

Once a dumping ground for plague victims, this Venetian island became a mental asylum where patients claimed to see ghosts. Legend says a doctor went mad and jumped from the bell tower — and that you can still hear it ringing, even though the bell was removed. The island is now sealed off. Even nearby fishermen fear to sail too close.

Also called the “Sea of Trees,” this forest lies in the shadow of Mt. Fuji. Known as a site for suicides, it holds an unsettling silence. Compasses spin. Footsteps vanish into moss. Guides mark trails with tape to avoid getting lost. Locals believe it’s haunted by yūrei — restless spirits with unfinished business.

Stretching from Miami to Bermuda to Puerto Rico, this region has swallowed ships and planes without a trace. Navigation tools go haywire, time seems to distort, and rescue missions fail. Despite modern technology, the cause remains unknown — sparking theories from magnetic anomalies to alien abductions.

The explosion of Reactor 4 in 1986 turned the city of Pripyat into a radioactive no-man’s-land. Today, decaying amusement parks, schools, and homes sit frozen in time. Nature is reclaiming the city — wolves, boars, and moss thriving in the radiation. But the fear lingers in the silence.

In the desert of northern Mexico, near the Mapimí Biosphere Reserve, lies a region where radios and satellites mysteriously fail. Locals speak of strange lights in the sky, mutated wildlife, and time distortions. Some blame a meteorite crash, others whisper about secret military experiments.

Deep in Pennsylvania’s woods, a narrow road known as “The Devil’s Road” runs past twisted trees and a mansion tied to dark rumors. Locals speak of a satanic cult, inbreeding, and rituals performed in secret. Strange noises and shadowy figures have turned this road into a dare for the brave and foolish.

From the air, ancient geoglyphs stretch across the Peruvian desert — spiders, hummingbirds, humanoid shapes. How and why they were made remains a mystery. Were they ceremonial? Astronomical maps? Or messages to gods… or extraterrestrials? Their precision has kept scientists — and mystics — guessing.

The Indian government has officially banned entry after dark. According to legend, a black magician cursed the city after being rejected by a princess. Shortly after, the kingdom collapsed. Locals report strange noises, shadows, and an overwhelming sense of dread as the sun sets.

Hidden beneath Paris are tunnels lined with the bones of over six million people. Originally quarries, they became ossuaries to solve overcrowded cemeteries. Today, they’re a haunting maze of skulls and legends. Urban explorers have gone missing in their depths. Some say the walls whisper.

This island in the Bay of Bengal is home to the Sentinelese — an uncontacted tribe who fiercely reject the outside world. Attempts at contact have ended violently. Anthropologists, missionaries, and even Indian authorities have been repelled. The island is both a cultural time capsule — and a geopolitical boundary no one dares cross.

In the middle of the Pacific, a giant concrete dome hides a grim secret: 85,000 cubic meters of radioactive waste from Cold War nuclear tests. Locals call it “The Tomb.” But it’s cracking. Rising sea levels threaten to flood it. If the ocean breaks in, the poison could spread again.

Just outside Cluj-Napoca lies a forest where electronics fail, lights flicker, and visitors report nausea, lost time, and ghostly sightings. One clearing, perfectly circular, refuses to grow trees. UFO sightings and unexplained phenomena make it Romania’s most famous paranormal hotspot.

South of Mexico City, a canal island is covered in hundreds of decaying dolls — nailed to trees, hanging from wires, staring with empty eyes. The caretaker began the collection to appease a drowned girl’s spirit. After his own death, visitors claim the dolls move, blink, or whisper in the wind.

These places challenge how we understand fear. They reflect more than ghosts or myths — they reveal trauma, collective memory, and our obsession with the unknown. Some are cautionary tales. Others, scars of real events. All of them invite the question: What makes a place cursed? And why are we so drawn to them?