Curse Of The Black

Chapter 1: Awakening on The Abyss

The first thing Jacob noticed was the smell. It was a pungent mix of saltwater, rotting wood, and the unmistakable stench of unwashed bodies. The odor was so overpowering that it pulled him from the murky depths of unconsciousness, his stomach churning with nausea. He winced, his head throbbing with a sharp, persistent pain as he struggled to open his eyes.

When he finally managed to pry them open, the world around him was a blur—an unsettling nightmare of flickering shadows and unfamiliar sounds. He blinked, forcing his vision to focus, and the scene before him slowly came into view. He was lying on the damp, uneven deck of a ship. The boards beneath him creaked and groaned with the sway of the vessel, while ragged sails flapped weakly above in the dull, gray sky. The ocean around the ship churned with restless waves, adding to the disorienting sense of movement.

Panic gripped Jacob's chest as his mind raced to make sense of his surroundings. Where am I? He remembered going to sleep in his own bed after a long, ordinary day at work. But now, everything was wrong—so very wrong. His breathing quickened, heart pounding as he tried to recall anything that could explain this sudden, terrifying shift.

He pushed himself up on trembling arms, looking around in a daze. The ship was in a state of disrepair, its hull barely holding together, and the deck was stained with years of grime and dried blood. The crew—if they could even be called that—were a motley group of rough-looking men, their faces hardened by the harsh life at sea. Their clothes were tattered, and their bodies bore the scars of countless battles. They moved about the deck with a lethargic, almost mechanical quality, each man lost in his own world of toil and suffering.

Jacob's heart pounded louder as he took in the reality of his situation. This wasn't a dream, and it certainly wasn't a familiar place. Somehow, he had been transported—no, that wasn't right—he had been thrust into another world, one where pirates ruled the seas and civilization was nothing more than a distant memory.

"What are you gawking at, boy?" A gruff voice cut through his frantic thoughts, dragging him back to the present. Jacob turned to see a burly man towering over him. The man's face was rough and weathered, his beard thick and matted, and his left eye was covered by a ragged patch. He glared at Jacob with a mix of annoyance and suspicion. "Get back to work before the captain sees you slacking off!"

Jacob opened his mouth to protest, to demand answers, but the words stuck in his throat. The man's one good eye bore into him, and Jacob knew instinctively that arguing would only lead to more trouble. Instead, he nodded quickly, stumbling to his feet. His mind was still reeling, but he forced himself to move, to blend in with the rest of the crew. Whatever had happened, survival was his first priority.

As he moved about the deck, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, a strange sensation washed over him. It was like a whisper in the back of his mind, a presence that had been there all along but only now made itself known.

[Welcome to the system, User. You have been chosen to walk the path of necromancy. Through sacrifices and offerings, you may unlock powers beyond mortal comprehension.]

The voice was ethereal, neither male nor female, and it resonated deep within Jacob's mind. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing.

"Who… What are you?" he whispered under his breath, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear him.

[I am the system that will guide you on your journey. You have been granted the opportunity to rise above your current station, to become a master of necromantic magic. To do so, you must offer sacrifices—items of power or significance—to unlock new abilities.]

Jacob's breath caught in his throat. Necromancy? Magic? It sounded like something out of a fantasy novel, yet here he was, in a world that defied everything he knew about reality. But before he could ask more questions, the voice continued.

[Your first task is to survive. This ship, The Abyss, is a dangerous place. The crew is ruthless, and the captain even more so. Use the tools at your disposal to gain power and influence. Only then can you begin your ascent.]

As the voice faded, Jacob felt a surge of determination. He didn't understand everything that was happening, but one thing was clear: if he wanted to survive, he needed to play along. The system—whatever it was—offered him a chance to change his fate. And in a world as brutal as this, he would need every advantage he could get.

For now, he had to bide his time, learn the ways of this world, and figure out how to use the system to his advantage. But deep down, a part of him was excited—excited at the prospect of wielding magic, of rising above the squalor of his current situation, and perhaps even carving out a name for himself.

As the day wore on and the ship continued its journey through treacherous waters, Jacob couldn't shake the feeling that his life had changed forever. Despite the uncertainty, despite the fear gnawing at his gut, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of power this system could offer him—and how far he could go if he dared to seize it.