[THE UNSPEAKABLE ONE ACCEPTS YOUR OFFERING.]
The world was black, then gray, and finally, I could see. I was disoriented.
There was a cacophony of screams, horn wails, and explosions. It took time to get the hang of where I was.
I was sitting on a cold floor, my back to the wall. My brain first registered the pain in my stomach. I moved my eyes in that direction. A spear had skewered my side, its shaft erect. I instinctively reached for it.
I winced in pain on contact, a new stream of pain throbbing from my side. Luckily, I was not bleeding out. I had a high pain tolerance. My body shuddered, bringing up moments of cancer treatment, and the pain was just as bad then. I heaved laboured breaths, pushing through the agony as I had numerous times before.
Then my nose picked up the sharp smell of blood, flooding my senses, forcing my eyes to stumble on the grotesque scene before me. The mangled bodies were placed higgledy-piggledy across the room. Dismembered body parts taking a spot within the scene.
Blood painted the floor and walls in a twisted sense of artistic flair. My stomach churned, threatening to expose what I had eaten in this life, but the pain in my gut stopped the process, resulting in the acidic burn of vomit searing my throat.
I dreamed of a new world. Not this.
My bad luck had followed me into my new life. I was truly born to die, it seemed. I had surrendered to fate in my last life. Surely not this one.
A quick explosion could be heard from outside, then came the screams. Whatever was happening out there was not a war but an annihilation, and if I happened to remain here, I too would die.
I could feel every part of my body. There was a semblance of response as I tugged my nerves, probing if I could walk, better yet, even stand.
I took a quick breath, steeled my resolve, and reached for the spear. Both hands wrapped around the shaft. I pulled. The spear was stuck, but I pushed through the pain. I desired to live, and I could not find a way to do that here.
The spear violently tore apart my side as I removed it from where it had been lodged. I let out a frantic, throaty scream as I tossed the spear aside. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision for a while.
A spatter of blood shot out. I then realized my mistake—now I would bleed out to death. I began to panic. I was losing more blood than I would like. I coughed up a pool of blood. The metallic taste of blood clung to my mouth, much to my discomfort.
I grounded myself in the pain, calming my panicking mind. I looked around to my immediate left and right. I reached for a loose piece of cloth in an arduous effort.
The cloth looked like a banner. I did not examine it further. I pressed it into the wound, aiming to plug the hole and curb the blood loss. I continued until the blood stopped leaking.
I could finally collect my thoughts, stringing a plan along. The plan was broken into one part: survive. I did not know how to.
I had applied pressure on the wound for a long while, and I soon gathered enough strength. I did not know how much time had passed, but the destruction had stopped.
I went after my previous tormentor. With the spear in hand, I picked myself up, pushing my body against the wall as I used the spear to support my ascent.
On the first try, the spear tip grazed the floor, sliding out of place, and with it, my body slammed back down. The wound was throbbing angrily in response.
The second time, I slipped on the blood floor, but on the third try, I stood—one hand pressing the wound, the other on the spear. My back hunched like an old lady.
I moved. I navigated through the room for eternity. One step at a time. Eyes wandering around, pausing away to the open door. I took intermittent breaks throughout.
During these breaks, I took in my surroundings, registering anything that might seem useful. The mosaic glass windows just below the roof and all the way around the room/hall brought in the moonlight in its divine delight.
The room was dark, but the night light helped a lot. With the next break, I was at the centre of the room. The bloodshed spread in all directions from here.
I was wheezing, trying to draw heavy breaths. I was tired. The wound-aching had spread to all other parts of my body. I was close. I tried to console myself.
The break had been longer than I intended, but I was too tired to move. For a while, I felt like giving up, but a quick breath brought me back to perspective.
Before I could move, I heard a chime. It was subtle, almost calming.
A black screen appeared in front of me.
[DISPLAY]
~ The Unspeakable One demands you offer the bodies as an offering ~
[END DISPLAY]
The screen vanished just as it had appeared.
I was conflicted. Not by the fact I had to desecrate the dead, but the fact that some deity was watching me for entertainment.
The fact that I was here meant that the bogus last prayer had worked since I offered myself into servitude with my soul as the sacrifice. I could not argue the fact that his reason for bringing me here was not entirely benevolent, and his demand for the bodies just drove the point home.
Either way, if being His servant meant I got a second chance at life, I would do my best to uphold His will.
I racked my brain, formulating a prayer, tailoring it from its original sample to come up with something fitting.
" I, a Feaster From Afar, Offer the dead before me, to You, Him Who Is Not To Be, Take them into your embrace, For your will is divine and is my duty. "
There was the chime again thereafter on the screen.
[DISPLAY]
~ SACRIFICE ACCEPTED ~
~THREE REWARDS ~
>Information
>Restoration of the body to health
>Name: The Stranger.
~ Choose ~
[END DISPLAY]
The screen did not vanish.
I ruled out restoration because I would eventually heal. The information was too ambiguous to be considered; hence, the name was most attractive. There was a power in names, and a name bestowed by a powerful deity was very appealing.
I tried to touch the name, but my hand passed through the screen. I whispered it instead, mentally.
[DISPLAY]
~ Name picked ~
~ The reward issued ~
> DESCRIPTION: The Stranger is the name issued to His most beloved. As His divine emissary, he walks the world veiled, bringing doubts, madness, and decay along. He whispers lies as truths and truths as lies. The Stranger is not just a name but a mantle only for those who can endure.
[END DISPLAY]
I was astounded as I read the cryptic message. The air chilled, the room blackening, thick and heavy darkness shrouded everything. The darkness ate everything up.
I stood in the middle of a suffocating cover of darkness. My perception of time slowed, then became distorted, as if I were existing in a bubble where nothing mattered. The air whistled eerily, with gusts of wind sending chills down my very soul.
I heard whispers, the words in a language I did not understand. The whispers turned into roars. They flocked to my mind, each word aiming to break my mind, pushing away from the confines of sanity. I endured. I screamed, sobbed, and yelled, pleading for mercy.
I finally heard a string of words I could understand.
"From this day on, you are The Stranger. First among My blessed. My will is divine and your duty."
The darkness melted, pulling along the whispers in my mind. All the bodies were gone, save for four of them. All adjacent to me.
Before I could recover, I felt my body heating up. My legs started to melt. My skin flaying on its own, blood spilling out along with my bones, all while I felt all aspects of the process. The process at first seemed painless.
The smudge of my body spread toward the four bodies, melting and coalescing them, mixing and matching to form a giant blob of flesh, blood, and bones. The blob began to merge.
I felt my body reconstruct itself. Then came the pain in floods. I writhed as my soul shuddered. I knew pain. I lived in pain for years as cancer tore through my body. So I tried to find an anchor, something to hold onto to combat the pain. My mind reeled back to my last day. Dr John's trembling hands. The syringe that was my Christ. Then the coldness of death. I felt all once more.
On earth, I was born to die. Not again. That was my anchor. I was not prepared to make peace with a dog's death, so I embraced the pain. Screaming without a mouth. Crying without eyes. Anything to hold on to until it was over. Then came the end. Finally, I was whole once more.
I lay on the floor, butt-naked.
The screen appeared once more.
[DISPLAY]
[STATUS]
>NAME: THE STRANGER
>PERSONA: CASSIAN VALERIAN ATRIUS
>TITLE: A FEASTER FROM AFAR
>ABILITY: REVELATION - A father of lies' greatest strength lies in his ability to discern the weakness of others. Red cracks symbolize emotional trauma, silver threads show fatal weakness, and black fog represents existential vulnerabilities.
TABS: ATTRIBUTES - PERSONAS - EQUIPMENT - MISSIONS.
[END DISPLAY]
I skirted through the display. I felt lucky. Lucky that I was alive.
I turned, lying on my back, staring at the room.
I smiled.
New life, I thought.
I passed out shortly after.