Whispers in the Dark

A damp coolness clung to the atmosphere as Clay opened his eyes with a slow deliberation. He was stiff in body, groggy in mind, as if he had slept for weeks. He inhaled deeply, but the atmosphere was heavy and alien—earthy, with an added tinge of strange metallic flavor. It was not like the foul city air to which he had grown accustomed.

His fingers burrowed into wet earth as he struggled upright. His clothing was tattered and caked with dirt, his arms speckled with tiny scratches. Everywhere he looked, towering trees rose high into the foggy air, their gnarled branches looking like skeletal fingers. The thick leaves above let very little light in, creating sickly shadows that capered with the dancing leaves.

Clay scowled, his head trying to fit the pieces together.

"I was. at the office," he whispered, massaging his temples. "Then the bar. then—"

His breathing caught.

The screaming horn. The flash of headlights. The nauseating smash of metal.

I died.

A shiver ran down his spine. The last thing he remembered was the truck careening toward him, the searing pain, and then—emptiness. Yet he recalled the next thing he remembered. The goddess, Faith. The choice.

And he had made his choice to come back.

Gradually, the truth dawned. He lived, but in a different world.

A gentle rustling close by caused him to stiffen. His heart racing, he jerked his head around, eyes scanning the dense underbrush. The bushes shook once more, and a low, rasping noise—something breathing—rang through the air.

Clay stepped back naturally. He did not have any weapon, didn't know where he was, and most terrifyingly, did not know what sort of inhabitants existed in this world.

Appraiser.

This realization suddenly hit him, and as if it was an obedient servant listening to his commands, shining letters materialized in front of his eyes.

[Skill Activated: Appraiser]

Target: Unknown

Threat Level:????

Status: Hidden

Clay's breath froze in his throat. Hidden? What was that supposed to mean? That meant the creature was aware that he was gazing at it and was covering its status or something?

The bushes ceased twitching. The jungle went still.

Too still.

The familiar ambient sounds—birds chirping far away, leaves rustling—had all disappeared. As if the jungle was holding its breath.

And then—

CRACK.

Somebody or something charged out of the darkness.

Clay hardly had a chance to roll to the side before a huge, dark form exploded out of the bushes. It was going quickly—far too quickly for its size. Clawed fingers ripped through the dirt, carving deep furrows in the ground where he stood only seconds earlier.

His heart thumped as he frantically backpedaled, eyes fixed on the monster. The fog wrapped around it, distorting its complete figure, but he could discern its yellow eyes, afire with an unnatural light, fixed on him with an abnormally keen interest.

Appraiser.

Target: ???

Threat Level: High

Status: Hunting

Hunting?!

Panic coursed through Clay's veins. He wasn't some lost adventurer in the forest—he was hunting prey.

His brain ran a mile a minute. No guns, no armor, no idea how to defend himself. Blundering blindly into the jungle could lead to getting surrounded, but being here was just as bad.

The beast gave off a series of low, clicking noises and advanced.

Clay balled his fists.

Think, damn it.

Then, as if in response to his desperation, another window opened up before him.

[Activated Skill: Domination]

Target Resisted.

Clay caught his breath. Resisted? Was that like saying the skill had failed him?

The beast hesitated, tilting its head as if perplexed. Then, with a gruff snarl, it charged once more.

Clay had no time to think. He flung himself to the side, rolling as the beast's claws tore across the earth where he had stood a moment before. The ripping earth made him shiver.

I can't win this battle.

He must get away.

Clay spun and ran into the trees. The underbrush scraped at his flesh, branches slapping his face as he ran blindly through the jungle. Heavy footsteps pounded the ground behind him, closing in.

It's quicker than me.

Panic ripped at his brain. He couldn't run away from it. His training wasn't effective. He was unarmed.

Was this it? Was he going to die immediately after being reincarnated?

Then, ahead of him, he saw it.

A great tree, its trunk bent and knotted, with roots so large that they could create a natural alcove at its base. Instinctively, Clay dived towards it, squeezing himself into the shadows of the massive roots.

Grinding his teeth shut, he tucked himself in and willed himself as small as he could.

The footsteps had slowed.

The creature had stopped.

Clay shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth against movement. His lungs ached from holding the breath, but he didn't dare breathe out.

A deep growl hummed through the air. The shadow of the creature fell across the alcove entrance.

Eternities went by.

Then—nothing.

Clay managed a tiny glimpse.

The creature was nowhere in sight.

Shaking all over, he released his breath raggedly. He had lived.

But as relief washed over him, a shivery realization dawned.

He wasn't just a random guy misplaced in a hazardous world.

Something was pursuing him.

And this was merely the start.