Reincarnation?

Typhon!

With a start, he rolls off of the cold stone slab underneath him, slamming against an equally hard, frozen floor.

"Mmph.."

He rubs his shoulder, sitting up to view his surroundings. He finds himself in a rather average sized dungeon, the only exit a rotten wooden door. He immediately knows that no one has been in nor out of this dungeon in what seems like centuries. Vines and mildew coat the stone walls, cracks and fissures running down the rock.

"Where the hell am I?"

Typhon stands, towering over the small slab jutting out from the exact center of the room. With no recollection of his past, Typhon takes a moment to look down at his unfamiliar body.

First are his hands, huge and calloused with what looks like decades of hard labor. His thick, meaty fingers end in cracked, yellow fingernails. The nails themselves are sharp enough to shred skin. His skin looks pale and dusty... no, his skin is grey! For some reason, Typhon knows this isn't normal. Flashes of beautiful peachy skin flashes through his mind, coming from nowhere. His arms, thick and bulging with power, are just as foreign to him.

Typhon is completely naked, covered in that dusty grey skin that unnerves even himself. In spots along his body, black veins show through his grey skin. They pulse grotesquely over his burly body. Some of his skin is cracked, splotches of oily brown hair seemingly fastening together the cracked skin.

Typhon doesn't feel disgusted with his body, only marveling at how his powerful limbs move with ease. He feels at home in this body, despite everything seeming unfamiliar.

Typhon steps towards the rotten wooden door, seeking exit in the cramped space. He puts a large hand on the door. With a thump, the door falls easily. The dungeon opens up into a hallway, just as mildewed and cramped as the previous room. Typhon ducks to get through the small doorway.

To his left down the hallway sits 8 more rotten doors, 4 on the left and 4 on the right of the stone wall. Across from the room that had held him captive (he thinks) sits another rotten door, falling off of its hinges. To his right is a mossy staircase, running up into sheer darkness. and curling to the left.

"Looks like an underground dungeon you'd see underneath a castle."

"Hello? Anyone there?" Typhon calls out, surprising even himself with his gravelly, booming voice. When no one answers, Typhon makes his way up the dark staircase.

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After what seems like an hour of travel, Typhon takes a final step up to a flat stone floor. Less mildewed and mossy, moonlight filters down through a door's window standing in front of Typhon. This wooden door was just as small as the rest of the doorways down in the dungeon, but was surprisingly in pristine condition. He tries the doorknob, accidentally tearing it off with his brute strength.

"Fuck. This body is... wayy too strong. Dial it back."

However, the doorknob now torn off, Typhon only has one choice. He slams his fist into the wooden door. The wood splinters and breaks, nearly shattered from his strength. He ducks to get through the doorway once again, out into the night.

Typhon looks around, finding himself standing at a clearing, forest all around him. To his back is the dungeon, seemingly carved into a stone cliffside. A red clay marking nearly covers the entire stone wall, repeated what looks like thousands of times as if a human wrote them hastily in a bout of insanity. Upon closer inspection, the marking appears to be a priest spreading gospel to demons.

"A priest...? Why spread the word of God to your devout enemies...?"

The sounds of crickets chirping in the tall grass draws his attention back to the forest. Thick foliage and nature, vines and thorns and plants, crowd together under the thick trees in an endless fight for water and sun. With nothing else to do, Typhon makes his way into the forest.

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Typhon travels through the forest slowly. He's just now realizing that everything wasn't small, he was just big. He constantly bumps his head on branches and has to swat away way too many spiderwebs and bushels of thorns. Some of the thorns surprise him, tearing his cracked skin enough to draw blood, tinting the splotches of oily brown hair on his naked body red. After finding a river and following it downstream, he finally comes across a quaint little village. The village looks poor and old, most of the houses in a state of decay or having holes in the walls and roofs. He walks down a dirt path, grateful that he doesn't have to deal with the forest that seemed to hate his large body. 

Coming across one of the entrances to the town, Typhon spots a pair of guards on duty in the dead of night. They wear leather armor, steel swords shining in the dim moonlight. The guards stop their conversation, looking in the direction of Typhon. One picks up a nearby torch, the other unsheathing his sword. The sound of metal scraping metal resonates in Typhon's heart.

"Monster! Beware!"

A guard shouts, readying to fight. Typhon freezes in place, unsure of what exactly is happening, or why they view him with such fear.

Before either the guard or Typhon can react, the sound of two bowstrings being pulled back can be heard. Typhon looks up too late at what looks like a ramshackle archer tower, where two hooded figures, disguised with shadow, stand. 

Thwip! Thwip!

With a wet thump, two feathered ends of arrows jutt out from his chest. Typhon's world turns dark.