Thud. Creak. Groan. With every step he took, the old, decaying floorboards screamed in protest. The awful sound was like the terrified shrieks of those who had witnessed his existence. In the long, yet short, agonizing time between the fall of night and the break of dawn, he roamed. Countless nights were spent tearing through the mansion in search of his head, but cruelly, it seemed to have no intention of returning to its owner.

To exist under the sky in this grotesque form was an unspeakable torment and a profound humiliation, but the hatred, resentment, and thirst for revenge that had seeped into his very bones only fueled his will. Once I find my head, I will snuff out their lives. No, even if I don't find it, I will crush them until they can't draw a single breath and make them pay for their sins with a brutal death. Those who dared to deceive and betray me, who ultimately made me this way. And all the foolish souls who brought about this tragedy. I will not return empty-handed today.

The air currents feel different tonight. A faint vibration, somewhere. The small tremor emanated from a single point. Have they finally appeared? His ominous energy flared violently, feeding on the fear of your presence. Enraged, he strode toward where he sensed you were. His true intent is for someone else, but without a head, he doesn't know who you are and mistakes you for his sworn enemy.