Primal

The group's camp was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustling of the trees. Alf stood guard, bow at the ready, scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. As a hunter in his village, Oakwood, he was used to being on high alert. His brother, Albulf, a blacksmith, sometimes accompanied him on deliveries, which provided a secondary source of income worth several months' worth of their combined jobs.

They also had to take their sisters with them, which was stupid and dangerous, but they knew it would be even dumber and more dangerous to leave them alone in the village, unprotected.

Suddenly, a thud sounded, and he turned to the source, but saw only darkness. Then, a thock, and looking down, an arrowhead was protruding from his chest, right where his heart was located. A hand covered his mouth, and he felt himself being held as his body lost its strength. Looking at the killer, he saw the strange, naked man they had killed earlier, his eyes wide with shock, fear, and regret before closing forever.

Everything else was darkness.

{{Nefarius POV}}

Locating the group was easy, but killing them was the hard part. How hard could killing a medieval peasant be, though?

To be honest, I held no grudge against them. They shot me, yeah, but I would have done the same if I were in their shoes. Anyway, I'm killing them and taking their clothes and weapons so I wouldn't get shot again. All's fair in love and war, right?

Now, I'm no expert in camping, surviving in the wilderness, or choosing camp locations, but even I knew not to camp near a road with high grass. I crouched towards the guy who killed me earlier, naked as the day I was born – or reborn, I guess.

I threw a rock to the other side to attract his attention, then sneaked up to him and stabbed him in the heart with his own arrow. I held him tight so as not to wake the others. I'm still not sure if I can be killed or not, but I'd rather not risk it for now.

Looking at the others, I saw they kept their weapons next to them. I went to one of them and picked up the sword, then killed the other two. Unfortunately, the sound woke the woman, and yeah, this is awkward. They're all wailing and staring at me like I killed their parents. Like, you killed me first, I thought, but I won't kill them unless they attack me.

Now I'm in an extremely awkward situation, looting the dead bodies while they're staring at me. My god, this is fucking awkward.

I tried to avoid eye contact, but the woman's gaze felt like it was burning a hole through me. I quickly gathered what I needed – a decent sword, a leather tunic, and a quiver full of arrows – and started to back away slowly. I didn't want to provoke them into attacking me, but I also didn't want to stay there any longer than necessary.

As I turned to leave, I caught the woman's eye and mouthed, 'Sorry.' I didn't expect it to make a difference, but it was worth a shot. 

I made my way back into the forest, the silence between the trees a welcome respite from the awkwardness I'd just left behind. I found a nearby stream and washed off the blood and grime, feeling a little more human with each passing moment.

Now that I had some decent gear, I could focus on survival. I followed the stream for a while, looking for any signs of civilization or potential threats. The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor. I needed to find shelter and start a fire before nightfall.

As I finally settled down and took a closer look at my spoils, I examined the sword more closely. It was made of iron, which struck me as primitive. I couldn't help but think that I could create a superior weapon, one that would be considered divine in this medieval world. If no one had discovered steel yet, it couldn't be that difficult to find and work with, could it? After all, the process was relatively simple: melt the steel and pour it into a mold. I was confident that I could create a steel sword that would surpass anything this world had to offer.

As for my leather tunic, it was subpar, to say the least. The quality was poor, but it was better than nothing. I made a mental note to seek out a skilled leatherworker or tailor to create something more suitable for me. For now, I would have to make do with what I had.

As I continued to inventory my spoils, I realized I needed to find some suitable pants to replace my current attire. I also took the bow and arrows, thinking they might come in handy in the future. My gaze fell upon the arrow that had first killed me, and then my enemy, in this world. I decided to coat it later and keep it as a memento, a reminder of my arrival in this world.

As I ventured deeper into the forest, the sound of the stream grew fainter, and I caught sight of smoke rising in the distance. Finally– I had found a village. I approached cautiously, not wanting to startle the inhabitants.

But as I drew closer, I felt an inexplicable pull, a hunger that gnawed at my belly. It wasn't physical hunger, but something more. I followed the sensation to the village cemetery, the silence of the graves drawing me in.

As I walked among the headstones, the feeling grew stronger, until I could sense the presence of souls. Freshly deceased, their spirits lingered, trapped between worlds. I felt an overwhelming urge to connect with them, to consume their essence and make it my own.

I reached out a hand, and a cold, spectral energy began to swirl around me. The souls of the dead sensed my presence, and they began to stir. I felt a jolt of power as consumed the first soul, its memories and experiences flooding my mind.

The rush was intoxicating, and I devoured the remaining souls, each one adding to my strength and knowledge. I felt my body changing, my senses heightening.

As I stood amidst the gravestones, I felt invigorated, rejuvenated. I was no longer just a naked, reborn man; I was something more. I took a deep breath, the air filled with the whispers of the dead.

As i trudged towards the village, my newfound power coursing through my veins. But with each step, I felt my eyelids growing heavier, my senses dulling. The whispers of the dead, once a gentle hum, grew louder, a cacophony of memories and experiences that threatened to overwhelm me.

I tried to fight it, to push against the exhaustion that seemed to be pulling me down. But it was no use. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the grass, my vision blurring.

Sleep claimed me, and I was powerless to resist. I felt myself being pulled into a dreamless void, where the whispers of the dead continued to echo in my mind.

As I slept, I was aware of my vulnerability. I was lying in the open, exposed to any danger that might come my way. But I couldn't help it. My body seemed to be purging itself of the excess information and experiences I had absorbed from the souls.

I slept for what felt like hours, my mind a jumble of fragmented thoughts and emotions. When I finally stirred, I felt groggy and disoriented. But as I sat up, I realized that I had filtered out the useless information, and only the essential knowledge and power remained.

I stood up, shaking off the remnants of sleep. I knew I needed to find a way to control this... affliction. I couldn't afford to fall asleep every time I absorbed souls. It was a weakness, one that could get me killed.