Whispers in the Dark

He felt himself falling, endlessly , plummeting into an abyss of nothingness, one that was devoid of light, sound, or even the sensation of gravity. It was as if he had been unmoored from reality itself, adrift in a sea of oblivion. Panic clawed at his throat, a cold dread seeping into his bones. He was lost, utterly lost.

Then, a whisper. Faint at first, like the rustle of dry leaves in a forgotten forest, it grew louder, sharper, until it resonated within the very core of his being.

"K Kojiro… Kojiro…"

He tried to open his eyes, but there was nothing to see, only the endless, suffocating darkness.

He tried to speak, but his voice was trapped, a silent scream echoing in the empty chambers of his mind.

"Kojirooooo…"

The voice was ancient, resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder echoing through a vast, empty cavern. It held a strange allure, a hint of power that resonated deep within it, a promise of something… more.

"Who… who is that?" Kojiro managed to think,

his mind struggling to grasp the concept of thought itself.

Was he even capable of thought in this place? Was he even real?

"This may all just be a nightmare." He thought

"Kurotenbatsu, I am Kurotenbatsu, the divine death blade" the voice replied, a low thrum vibrated through kojiro's very being, resonating with the strange energy that pulsed within him.

Kojiro felt a surge of confusion. The blade… it was speaking to him? He tried to visualize it, the familiar weight and feel of the rusted katana in his hand, but all he saw was darkness, a void that mirrored the emptiness in his soul.

"Where… where am I?" he thought, his voice a mere whisper in the vast emptiness.

"A place between worlds," Kurotenbatsu replied, its voice now closer, more intimate, as if it were speaking directly into his ear.

"A realm of shadows and forgotten souls. A place where death is a continuous loop,to suffer the damned for enternity"

Fear, cold and sharp, gripped Kojiro. He was dead. He knew it, deep down. But this… this was not the peaceful oblivion he had imagined. This was something else, something far more terrifying.

"What… what is happening to me?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"You have died, boy," the voice said, a hint of amusement, almost mockery, in its tone.

"But death may not be the end for you...if you wish".

Kojiro's mind reeled. Of a true he was dead? But he felt… something , something stange. A strange energy coursing through him, a connection to the blade and what it said, a faint awareness of his own demonic darkf orm. He could feel the rough texture of his new skin, the subtle shift of power beneath its surface.

"Who are you?" Kojiro demanded, his voice growing stronger, fueled by a desperate need to understand.

"I am ,Kurotenbatsu,The first blade.." replied, its voice now echoing through his mind, resonating with a dark power.

"Forged in the heart of a dying star, tempered in the blood of a thousand battles. I have witnessed countless wars, tasted the fear of countless warriors. I have seen the rise and fall of empires in and out of hell, the birth and death of worlds."

Kojiro felt a shiver run down his spine, despite the absence of a physical body. The blade was ancient, powerful, and undeniably sentient.

But what did it want from him? What did it want from a dead swordsman trapped in this nightmarish realm?

"What do you want from me?" Kojiro asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation.

"You need help....I need a master," it replied, its voice now laced with a chilling urgency.

" I need a conduit. A master between worlds. And you… you have chosen me with your blood."

Kojiro felt a surge of unease, a premonition of something terrible. A Master? For what? What purpose could he possibly serve in this desolate realm?

"What… what should I do?" he asked, his voice filled with apprehension.

"Survive," Kurotenbatsu replied, the word echoing through the void like a death knell.

"Fight. Grow stronger. Absorb the essence of this place, this Hell. Feed me with the souls of the damned."

Kojiro felt a surge of terror, a chilling realization dawning upon him. He was not simply trapped in Hell; he was being used as a vessel, a conduit for this blade's dark power. He was a pawn in a game he didn't understand, a tool to be used by an ancient and malevolent force.

"What… what is happening to me, this must be a Nightmare?" Kojiro cried out, panic rising within him, threatening to consume him entirely.

"Why can't I escape? Why am I still here?"

"You are bound to this place, bound to me," Kurotenbatsu replied, its voice now cold and merciless.

"Your fate is now intertwined with mine. But fear not, boy. We will rise together. We will conquer this realm. And through me you shall have your heart desire , so become one with me."

As Kurotenbatsu spoke, Kojiro felt a strange sensation, a tingling in his extremities, as if his body was slowly coming back to life. He heard a distant sound, a guttural growl, growing louder with each passing second, echoing through the void like the approach of a predator. He tried to open his eyes, to break free from this strange trance, but it was too late.

"Stab me through their heart,"Kurotenbatsu commanded, its voice now urgent, desperate, filled with a primal hunger. "Stab me through their heart, and awaken me"

Kojiro, still trapped in the void, babbled incoherently, his mind reeling.

"What?

Stab you?

Why? What are you talking about?"

"Stab me!" Kurotenbatsu screamed, its voice now a roar that echoed through his mind, shaking him to his very core.

"Wake up! Wake up! They are coming!"

And then, with a jolt that felt like a physical blow, Kojiro was thrown back into reality.

He opened his eyes, the sight that met him instantly banishing any lingering disorientation. monstrous creatures , their skin the color of rotting flesh, was lunging at him, their jaws agape, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. The creatures smelled of decay and blood, their eyes burning with a malevolent hunger, glowing with a red intensity that seemed to pierce the darkness. They were hulking beasts, their muscles corded and grotesque, their claws dripping with some viscous, unidentifiable fluid. Their face wore a mask of pure savagery, their features twisted into a snarl of hunger and rage.

They were creatures born of nightmares, predators from the deepest pits of Hell. Kojiro, still reeling from the encounter with Shikeiken, could only stare in horror as these creatures lunged, their fetid breath washing over him.

The reek of rot and wet fur filled Kojiro's nostrils, a stench that clawed at the back of his throat, a taste of the abyss itself. The first beast lunged, a blur of muscle and fang, and Kojiro knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he was about to be devoured. No time to think. No time to plan. Only react.

His arms moved, or rather, seemed to move, of their own accord. He didn't remember knowing how to fight like this, didn't recall a single lesson, a single spar. His mind was a swirling fog, memories flickering like dying embers, but his body… his body knew. It was a dance of death ingrained in his very being, a symphony of violence played out through him, an echo of battles fought and won in a life he could no longer clearly recall....he had to fight and his body moved in response.

Using Kurotenbatsu, as an extension of his will, a conduit for something dark and powerful. It sang as it sliced through the air, a whisper of steel against putrid flesh.

He cut, he slashed, he parried, each movement precise and brutal. He moved with a speed and ferocity that betrayed his earlier disorientation, a whirlwind of death amidst the grotesque feast. It was as if another being inhabited his skin.

Panic clawed at him, a cold fist squeezing his heart. He waled, a sound torn from his throat, a primal scream of terror and desperation. He didn't want to fight, didn't understand how he was fighting, but his body wouldn't stop.

Each strike was a desperate prayer, a flailing attempt to fend off the inevitable. But with each swing, with each sickening thud as steel met flesh, something changed. A jolt, a surge, a rush of power flowed through Kurotenbatsu and into him. It was like fire in his veins, a dark energy that made him stronger, faster, more… alive. It was the taste of power, dark and intoxicang.

In a flash He killed the first scavenger almost by accident. One moment it was there, snapping and drooling, its fetid breath hot on his face, the next it was a twitching heap on the ground, its life force, its essence, flowing into the blade, then into him. It was a gruesome communion, a violation of life that somehow invigorated him.

He didn't understand it, didn't care. He just kept slashing, kept cutting, driven by blind instinct and the terror of the moment. Each kill was a reflex, a desperate attempt to survive, but each kill also fed the darkness within him, making him stronger, more ruthless, more like the creature he was becoming.

The other scavengers fell quickly, their grotesque forms no match for the whirlwind of death he had become. He didn't even notice their demise, his mind still lost in the fog of fear and confusion. He just kept moving, kept fighting, until… silence. The loud snarls and tearing flesh had ceased, replaced by an unnerving quiet.

The reek of gore was still there, the taste of fear still lingered on his tongue, but the sounds of the monstrous feast had long since stopped.

He stood amidst the carnage,Kurotenbatsu dripping with black blood, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

His body trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the raw power that coursed through him, a dark energy that hummed beneath his skin. He looked down at his hands, at the demonic claws that had just ripped through flesh and bone, and a wave of nausea washed over him. He didn't recognize himself.

He didn't even know they were all dead until he heard the voice, cold and detached, inside his head.

"Kojiro," it said. "You can now stop. They are all dead."

The voice was calm,

It was the voice of Kurotenbatsu

deep down Kojiro knew, with a chilling certainty, that his this was not a dream.He was really dead.