The First Possession 1

The sun cast a soft, golden glow across the horizon as Morvane woke up, his body sore from the relentless training sessions Crimson had been putting him through. The ache was a reminder of his progress, though he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still leagues behind Crimson's skill. Nevertheless, he smiled to himself—small victories mattered, and his grandmother would be proud to hear about them.

As the thought of visiting her crossed his mind, Morvane decided it wouldn't hurt to bring her a little something. The idea of surprising her warmed his heart.

At the town proper, he strolled through the bustling marketplace, eventually picking up a simple but elegant bouquet of flowers and a small cake from a local baker. The scent of the freshly baked goods filled the air, and he felt a sense of contentment. He could already imagine her smile.

With his gifts in hand, he made his way back toward the familiar forest path leading to his grandmother's cottage. The quiet crunch of leaves underfoot was interrupted by a sound that froze him in place—a faint, agonized weeping echoing through the trees.

At first, Morvane brushed it off as some drunkard wailing in the daylight. He quickened his pace, unwilling to get involved. But the crying grew louder, deeper, and more guttural. Something about it didn't feel... ordinary.

He stopped and turned toward the source. A man sat hunched on the ground, his back to Morvane, shoulders shaking violently with each sob.

Against his better judgment, Morvane approached cautiously. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice steady despite the growing pit of unease in his stomach.

The man didn't respond. Instead, his sobs grew more erratic, his body trembling like a marionette about to snap its strings.

"Hey," Morvane tried again, stepping closer.

Suddenly, the man twisted around. Morvane staggered back, his breath catching in his throat. The man's eyes were bleeding—thick rivulets of crimson running down his hollow cheeks.

"What—what are you?" Morvane stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man's head tilted unnaturally, as if the question itself was absurd. "You... can see me?" The man's voice was wet, guttural, and laced with something ancient. "But you're alive."

The words chilled Morvane to the core. Something primal told him to run, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. Fear had taken root deep within him.

As the man began to rise, his movements jerky and inhuman, Morvane felt his body trembling uncontrollably. The weight of the man's presence was suffocating, and the forest around them seemed to grow darker.

For the first time, Morvane realized he wasn't just facing another supernatural oddity. This was something far worse—something that had once been a living person but was now a vessel for something else entirely.

Morvane didn't wait to find out what the bleeding man meant. The fear in his chest exploded, and he turned, sprinting into the forest.

"Don't run!" the man's voice bellowed behind him, echoing unnaturally in the still air. "Don't be scared!"

But Morvane didn't look back. He could hear the man crashing through the underbrush, his cries growing desperate. "Please! Don't run!"

Branches whipped against Morvane's arms and face as he tore through the woods, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He didn't care about the gifts he'd dropped, or the ache in his legs—he just needed to get away. But as he leapt over a root, his foot caught on a hidden twig, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The wind was knocked out of him, and he struggled to push himself up, dirt and leaves clinging to his palms. The man's cries had stopped, replaced by the crunch of approaching footsteps. Morvane's heart raced as he frantically looked for anything to defend himself.

The man appeared above him, his blood-soaked eyes wide with an emotion Morvane couldn't decipher. "Please, do not hurt yourself. I won't hurt you!"

Morvane's hand closed around a sharp stone lying nearby. If he could summon his shadow beast, he might have a chance. Without hesitation, he raised the stone, aiming to cut his palm. But before he could, the man lunged forward and grabbed his wrist.

"Stop!" the man begged, his voice trembling.

The instant their skin made contact, a strange sensation erupted in the air around them. The man froze, his eyes widening in terror.

"No... no!" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

And then, as if pulled by an unseen force, the man's body convulsed violently before collapsing forward. Morvane could feel something—a dark, searing energy—being sucked into him. The man let out a final, guttural scream before his form disintegrated into smoke, vanishing into Morvane's chest.

The world around Morvane blurred. His body lifted off the ground, hovering as an uncontrollable force surged through him. His limbs trembled as if under immense pressure, and his eyes glowed faintly with an eerie light.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, the levitation stopped. Morvane dropped lightly to the forest floor, standing upright as if nothing had happened.

He blinked, confused. His breathing was steady, and the forest was silent again. But something deep within him felt... different.

The shadow of the man's presence lingered inside him, whispering faintly in the recesses of his mind. Whatever had happened, it wasn't over.

Morvane didn't even think about retrieving the gifts he had dropped earlier. His hands trembled, and his legs moved on their own as he stumbled forward, heading in the direction of his grandmother's house. But his thoughts were a haze, his mind consumed by the unnatural events that had just transpired.

He had only taken a few steps when a sudden, chilling sensation washed over him, making him freeze in his tracks. It was like a shadow had passed through his very soul, rooting him to the spot.

"You... you, boy. How is this possible?"

The voice was cold and intrusive, cutting into his thoughts like a knife. Morvane whipped his head around, but there was no one there. His breath quickened as panic surged through him.

"Who—who's there?" he stammered, his voice trembling.

The voice came again, closer this time, yet everywhere at once. "I'm inside you. How did this happen?"

Morvane's body tensed, the weight of the realization hitting him like a hammer. The voice wasn't coming from outside—it was in his head. His knees buckled, and he clutched his head, hoping to silence it.

"Get out of me!" he screamed, his voice raw and desperate, reverberating through the forest.

The sound startled a flock of birds perched nearby, sending them scattering into the sky. Their wings beat furiously as they fled the scene, leaving Morvane alone in the suffocating silence.

The voice, however, didn't leave. It laughed, a low and menacing sound that sent shivers down his spine. "You cannot run from me now, boy. We are bound."

Morvane shook his head violently, his fingers digging into his scalp. "No! This isn't happening! Get out!"

But deep down, he knew. Whatever had just occurred with the man had tied him to something beyond his understanding, and there was no escaping it.

Morvane clutched the sharp stone tightly, the voice inside his head growing louder, more commanding. His legs moved without his will, his hands trembling as they fought for control of his own body. The man wasn't just a voice now—he was taking over, piece by piece, as though Morvane were becoming a puppet.

"You can't stop me," the voice sneered, its tone dripping with malice. "This body is mine now."

"No... no!" Morvane cried, tears streaming down his face. His fingers pressed the sharp edge of the stone against his leg, desperate to summon the shadow beast before it was too late.

With a sharp cry, he sliced into his thigh, the pain searing but grounding him in reality. A burst of dark energy erupted around him, and the shadow beast emerged, towering and monstrous, its glowing eyes locked on Morvane.

The creature roared, its claws curling with rage. It recognized that something was wrong, and it snarled in defiance, ready to attack. But it hesitated, confused. The man it wanted to destroy was inside its master, and it couldn't strike without harming Morvane.

Morvane sobbed, tears mixing with the blood dripping from his leg. His body trembled as he felt his control slipping further, his mind drowning in the man's anger and despair.

Suddenly, two figures burst through the trees—Medas and Crimson. Their eyes widened at the scene before them: Morvane struggling against his own body, the shadow beast snarling and pacing, its claws digging into the ground.

The shadow beast turned toward the newcomers, mist swirling around its massive form. It mistook them for threats and lunged forward with a guttural roar.

"Wait!" Medas shouted, raising his hands. "We're here to help!"

The shadow beast halted mid-charge, its glowing eyes narrowing in suspicion. Medas's voice seemed to reach it, and it hesitated, glancing back at Morvane, who was still trembling on the ground.

Morvane's tear-filled eyes locked on Medas and Crimson. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he whispered, "Help me."

And then his body went still.

When he looked up again, his eyes were no longer his own. They were pitch black, as dark as the void, and when he spoke, it was in his voice—but twisted, layered with something far more sinister.

"I was murdered," the man said through Morvane, his tone dripping with anger and pain. The voice was unnatural, reverberating like an echo.

Medas and Crimson froze, their weapons drawn but unsure what to do.

"What do we do?" Medas whispered to Crimson, panic in his voice.

Crimson narrowed his eyes, taking a cautious step forward. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Why have you possessed him?"

The man laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "Who am I? I am no one. A nobody. No one cared about me. Not when I lived. Not when I died. But now..."

The man grinned, his expression alien on Morvane's face. "Now I have the power to avenge. To make them all pay."