Violence is easy to explain when it looks intentional.
It's harder when it doesn't.
Across a series of seemingly unrelated incidents, a man snapping in his backyard, a father erupting in a public park, a coworker waking to an impossible crime, ordinary people cross lines they never believed themselves capable of crossing. There are no shared motives, no substances, no warning signs that hold up under scrutiny. Only a pattern no one wants to name.
As forensic psychologist Dr. Mara Kincaid is drawn into the aftermath of these events, she begins to notice unsettling similarities, moments of sensory overload, sudden collapses of self-control, and an eerie sense of relief once the damage is done. What begins as a professional curiosity becomes something far more personal as the boundaries between observer and subject begin to blur.
Innate Fury is a psychological horror novella about thresholds, those invisible limits that govern restraint, and what happens when modern life quietly erodes them. Unflinching, intimate, and disturbingly plausible, it asks not why people break, but how easily they can.
Because in a world that never stops pressing in, self-control may be the first thing we lose.