I scream in pain as the blade pierces my chest. It slips between my ribs so easily... Somewhere in the last sane corners of my mind I wonder if it was skill or luck that placed the blade so perfectly. It doesn't really matter. I have seconds left.
My killer stands over me. I can feel the blood pouring from my chest. I can feel each heartbeat send pulses of agony through my nerves. The blade is still in my chest. He didn't pull it out when I fell. Am I the first man he ever killed? I try to reach for the blade to remove it, but barely have the strength to cut my fingers on its edge.
My arm lays limp across my chest as each breath becomes a struggle. I glare at the man who dares to look down on me. He shakes his head and reaches for the hilt of the sword, ripping it free. I twitch, but it doesn't really hurt. I am numb now. Cold. Weak.
I feel a snap somewhere in the deepest part of myself. Like a chain being severed. My body is suddenly weightless. I am free. I am no longer numb or cold or weak. I take a swing at my killer and stare as my fist passes through him as if he were not there.
It becomes clear that it is me who is not there when I look down at my body. I fall to my knees and look at the battlefield. The fight rages on without me. No one looks at my body. They don't have time. I don't really blame them. I wasn't in this group to make friends. I was here for the fighting.
A monster... I don't believe my eyes at first. I have heard legends of creatures that devour the souls of warriors that fall to those weaker than themselves. The punishment of the weak. My clan valued freedom. You had to be strong to be free. Weakness was scorned. Demonized.
The monster turns its gaze on me. It wears a mask made of bone. Its eyes glow dimly in the evening light. I try to run, but it is too fast. It catches me in seconds. Its claws are sharp as swords. Its arms like iron. Its teeth are knives in my flesh. In my soul.
I feel myself dying again. Its worse the second time. This time there is no snap and sudden freedom. It is like being chained in a dungeon. I can see through eyes that are not my own. Like looking through the bars of a cage. I watch as jaws that I can feel but not control devour men I fought beside.
Eventually I stop watching. I fall into a sleep of sorts. A trance. A state of suspension as time passes. Souls come and go. Dozens. Hundreds. And each time... The creature grows stronger. It is like a rising tide. I am pulled under. I am suffocating. Drowning. Losing myself. I am lost in a sea of minds and souls. I am numb again.
On and on it goes. Drifting in the endless ocean of lost souls. Somewhere deep inside what was once myself, I find the fire that used to drive me. I care for it, and it burns bright enough to light my way. I reach the surface. I fight night and day to stay afloat. I can see through those bars again. The body that imprisons me has grown. One among many. I stretch out with what little strength I have left, and I seize the jaws for myself.
I devour my brethren. All the same. All so weak next to me. Am I myself again? No. I am still just one of many. But I can feel the pull inside me. Whispering in the ocean that one more will make me whole.
It takes many more before I feel anything. I feel the ocean pulling back, and finally I stand on dry land. My jaws are my own. My eyes are still the bars of my cell, but the cell belongs to me. I am light, and fast, and strong. So very strong.