Baron Rose Frontier, once known for his kind heart, smiled warmly as he strolled through the village. Children darted past him, giggling, chasing hoops and stray chickens. Men worked the field with sweat on their brows, swinging hoes into the rich earth, while women hung bright linens along stretched ropes, their laughter rising with the scent of bread from distant bakery shops.

  A young boy pushed a cart of firewood, stumbling once before a neighbor helped him up with a pat on the shoulder. Even the old man who rarely left his porch had taken up whittling again, his knife carving smooth spirals into a block of cedar.

  Rose's heart swelled. These were simple, but they made life bloom here. They didn't need swords or titles to build something good. He was happy for them. Yet, Rose knew they deserved more. Safety. Roads. Mana wells. A school. To give them that, he had to rise. Become more than a baron. A higher rank would open doors, grant him resources. Influence. Power.

  He tilted his head to the sky. A clean, perfect blue. The kind of sky that made you believe the gods were still watching.

  "I hope this peaceful day will last forever."

  He blinked.

  When his eyes opened, the blue was gone. Crimson smeared the heavens like spilt wine. Smoke twisted up in greasy coils. The smell hit him first—burnt wood, burnt meat. Screams followed. Rose's stomach churned. He spun around.

  The village was in flames.

  Bodies lay in the dirt. Some moved. Most didn’t.

  “What…?” he muttered, stepping back. Then, he saw his hands.

  Blood soaked his fingers. It dripped from his palms, thick and fresh.

  “What’s happening?” he whispered.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  A figure ran away from him—a woman, crying, her dress torn, hands raised in surrender. “Please! I have children!”

  Rose tried to step away, but his foot slammed forward instead. He lunged. His hands grabbed her before he could even scream. She kicked and begged, her voice rising to a sharp, awful pitch.

  “No!” he cried out. “Stop! Don’t—!” But his body didn’t listen. His hands crushed. Her skull gave with a wet crack.

  He stumbled back, panting, shaking his head as blood spattered his boots.

  “This isn’t me! I can’t… I can’t control it! Somebody—please!”

  His legs were already moving again. Another villager darted through the smoke, and Rose's body turned, like a hound catching scent.

  He was still awake inside. Still screaming. Still begging. Alas, his body belonged to something else now.

  Baron Rose wept as he moved through the village like a butcher among lambs. His tears streaked down his blood-smeared face, his sobs choked by the screams around him, but nothing stopped his hands. Nothing answered his cries.

  He slammed a woman’s head against a stone wall. Once. Twice. A third time—and the wall cracked before her skull did.

  “No,” he whimpered, as her body slid down, leaving a smear behind.

  A child ran past him, clutching a doll half-burned. Rose wanted to turn away, to drop to his knees and beg for the gods to stop this madness. Instead, his hands shoved the child backward—straight into a house consumed by flames. The fire swallowed the small figure in seconds.

  “No, no, no—please stop—!” Rose cried, but his legs moved again.

  He grabbed an old man by the shoulders. The man pleaded with him, tears in his cloudy eyes. Rose's arms pulled. The old man came apart like paper soaked in water.

  Rose screamed.

  He couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t slow it. Couldn’t even close his eyes.

  After each kill, it grew worse.

  A black aura leaked from his chest—oily and thick, like ink swirling through water. It pulsed. It fed. The souls of the dead rose from the bodies and drifted toward him. They didn’t float gently. They were dragged. Sucked in.

  With each soul absorbed, the aura grew stronger. Hungrier.

  Then came the voices.

  “I curse you, Baron Rose,” one soul hissed, its face twisted in pain.

  “I won’t forgive you!” another screamed, its mouth wide in anguish.

  “I hope you’ll never find peace!”

  “No!” Rose howled, staggering, falling to his knees, but even then, his body kept moving, dragging itself forward. “Forgive me! Please! I never wanted this! I didn’t—!”

  More screams. More souls. More wrath.

  “Nooo!!” he roared, voice breaking as his body rose again, walking toward another villager running for their life.

  “I’m still here!” he cried. “I’m still me! Why can't I control my body?!"

  No one could hear him. Even if they could… none would believe it.