Reincarnated: Corrupted Lizard
Tom was walking home from his job at a pizzeria, evening sun shining setting behind a city skyline. However, the chill air of spring stung his freshly washed hands, so he swiftly and with practiced ease slid them inside his grey coat.
People driving past on a nearby road ignored his average looks, blue jeans, black sneakers, grey coat, and a blue Football beanie.
Unfortunately, this ordinary person had their life ended prematurely.
After crossing a street, and passing ‘Joe’s Pressure Washing Business Extraordinaire’ van, Tom had died from a severe blow to the back of the head. Tom should have looked behind himself, as at that very moment Joe, the extraordinaire in pressure washing, was fiddling with the nozzle of an industrial pressure washer. The 15mm piece of iron nozzle had been loosened from the main body of the pressure washer, and a thick finger accidentally pressing the simple device launched the deadly projectile.
Death was quick, like a bullet to the back of the skull. Mainly because it was like a solid iron bullet, with a hole in the middle for shooting water.
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Tom awoke to a terrible itch in his mouth, no it was something else, his maw hurt with a most dreadful itch in this darkness.
However, luckily out of the two problems the darkness became an antique white colour after a long amount of time, comforting in its all-encompassing glory. Simple thought’s occupied Toms mind, feeding an unknown urge to act on something deeper within.
Tom slowly began to rub his face against the blinding barrier, fixing an itch he didn’t know he had.
A thundering crack echoed out within his world. Then the world became duller, and a smell of fear swept in through the broken barrier. Lifting his head, more cracks sounded out as his long, sinuous neck reached to the outside world.
Tom had a momentary pause, blurry vision of green and brown slowly adjusted into familiar shapes. From those shapes arose blades of grass, cracks appeared within the brown, the trunk of a monolithic tree.
Despite the smell of fear, and the vastness of the outside world, tiny claws dug into eggshell. From out of a comforting home, a new lizard of grey colour was born, with three stubs on its face. One stub on the snout, and two atop its skull.
Instincts took over the small body, Tom barely even cognizant of what was happening. Resulting in a small lizard scurrying away into the dark underbrush of the forest.
ONE DAY LATER
Within the depths of a deciduous forest, populated with Oak, Birch, Maple and Aspen tree’s. Large leaves blooming in early Summer, blocking most light from reaching the forest floor. Scant evergreen trees, attempting to survive until Autumn, when they would have free reign over the currently restricted sunlight.
Yet, a small lizard was not playing the game called ‘survival of the fittest.’ Instead, the lizard was thinking of where it was and how it came to be, from atop a grey rock in a small clearing.
Tom: “It’s the second day of my life in this new world, the first was like a fever dream. Running, helpless to stop or think about the world around me. I still feel like I am in a dream, a nightmare from a reincarnation story.”
*Crash
Tom: “That was close. I wish I had some sort of fireball, or super powered system to keep me alive in this world. I must get moving before this feeling inside of me grows too much to bear.”
And I am off running into a green bush with ashen coloured branches, keeping me hidden from the horrors outside. Climbing the twisting branches around the main trunk of the bush to get a height advantage over whatever my instincts are afraid of.
The first Night was terrifying, with no control over my body, it felt like a horror movie with me being the main character. The fake main character, that was going to be the murder victim that starts the movie for real.
Sounds from a horror movie sounding out around me, screeches and short yapping followed by growling were a common sound. However, sometimes flapping of wings could be heard as great beasts set off from their perches above.
My new body had adaptations to let me survive in this world. A slithering tongue shot out through my sharp teeth, slinking around my mouth, to smell my surrounding but feeling as though I had licked everything around me in a 1 metre radius.
I might be helpless, but I am not clueless.
Tom: “SYSTEM HELP ME!!!”
Yet nothing but a *Meep came out.
Not a desirable result, as from out of the other side of a clearing something had been summoned. Fox like creature, long legs that gave it the stature of a wolf. Its eyes having the colour of the setting sun.
It stared up at me luckily, I was far enough away from the ground. However, it still did jump a few times up, shaking the large bush wildly in an attempt to shake me down.
After staring at its eyes for a while, the orange idiot, finally got the memo and left me alone. Watching it disappear into the underbrush, at a casual gait. Allowing me to return to my inner musings.
However, my musings were limited by a primal instinct. For a while now I had a tooth acting like a tusk outside my mouth, the same one that I used to break free from my shell. I began to rub it against the shrubs bark.
*thud
An iron taste filled my mouth, and I had lost my egg tooth. But my primal instincts were satisfied.
ONE WEEK LATER
I have found a reliable source of water. Only a little ways away from my favourite rock, an hour or two at a lizards speed. Most of the journey there and back consists of me running under plants in fast sprints, before getting a breather and continuing.
‘It has been a week and I already feel myself growing into my body,’ looking down at the river only confirms my assumption.
Looking like an adorable mix of a bearded dragon, and a leopard gecko. Although I might be slightly bias towards my new looks. Two little horns sprout from the top of my head, a third horn on my snout. The darker grey’s on the horns make them stand out, against my stone grey coloured scales.
*Snap
My musings are brought to an end, as something from further down the stream walks up to the river.
Cloaked in green, from head to toe, is a humanoid figure. A bandana, made from a black cloth blocks their lower face, leaving only the brown eyes visible.
A dark green cloak covers most of their body, from the hood covering not only the hair, but also wrapping around to shade their forehead. To the green wrappings on their feet, looking like hospital bandages than shoes.
Green tunic covers their front, as well as a dark brown bandolier, keeping the tunic form fitting to the muscular individual. Along the belt covering his chest, as well as a secondary belt keeping green trousers from slipping, are pouches and daggers. Some pouches are fully closed, but others have simple straps keeping herbs and mushrooms in place, alongside 2 daggers on the chest and four on the belt.
Stolen story; please report.
Having learnt my lesson from the Maned wolf, I keep quiet. Watching as the person thunders his way through the forest.
His ignorance is afforded to him by his dangerous aura, a black, seeping aura billowing from him like a fog. If he were me then a plethora of birds would have caught him, to be carried away and then later torn apart by their offspring.
Instead this man gets to the water, before pulling his hand behind his back and retrieving a brown flask. Opening the cork, drawing water, and then leaving without a care in the world. Oblivious to me staring at his every move, I could get used to being this sneaky.
Cold blooded in my patience.
Maybe because everything is so new, but I quickly return to looking back at myself. ‘so handsome, and good looking,’ keeping in mind not to voice my self introspects. ‘The horns look more imposing as the day’s pass.’
My serrated front row of teeth, alongside the secondary row of palatal teeth, for tearing into any mouse that dares to come across me.
Even though my diet is currently focused on much smaller prey, like berries, common blue beetles living in the ashen bushes, and an unlucky cicada every now and then. My ferocious appetite, allowing me to eat more food than the size of my stomach.
The cicada are the best, tasting like chicken with a size to almost fill me up, but my growing body always needs more fuel. Slit eyes, capable of tracking even the slightest of movements out of the ordinary.
Yet not all the things that I have eaten can be considered so good. Despite a crunch like the cicada, a few black beetle’s, and some fly’s that I have managed to catch tasted like literal poop. I am still alive, with no adverse effects, although only begrudgingly since lizards can puke if ingesting something actively harmful. Guess dung insects are not harmful to my instincts.
Still all this knowledge will be valuable to me later, especially considering I don’t see a way out of my current body problem anytime soon. And I can not rely on good weather lasting in winter.
TWO MONTHS LATER
I have been growing at an accelerated rate, clearly this species is not meant to live long. A short adulthood is indicative of an early death, and that is not something I wish to follow the path of. I just need to find a way to become bigger and stronger, to live longer.
Becoming an adult in a couple of month’s has been a roller coaster, with anger at the unfairness of my situation. To happiness at the simple life that I now lead, sitting on a rock in the morning and sleeping in the evening. No more overtime, no more customer complaint’s and most definitely no more money problems.
However, as of recently I have been losing myself. I feel less in control than when I started in early Spring.
I feel my mind being swept up by instincts.
I wake up, sunbathe, eat and go to sleep when my body requires it. Making me feel like a third wheel in this world.
The vast world is dangerous, I would not be alive without my instinct’s. Following them is my only choice, but the more I follow them the less I am confident of ever returning to who I used to be.
Would I even ever be able to return to being humanoid?
Sitting on a rock, basking in the fading sunlight is wonderful. A holiday I could never afford in the past.
However, should I even care if I stop being myself? I most likely died, and would have died again if not for my primal self, so who is to say I need to be that which has failed in the past. This is a new start.
No matter my current disposition, I see something entering my sunbathing spot.
The interloper is another grey lizard, looking exactly like me. Although this lizard has long horn’s, one on its snout and two on the back of its head.
The small creature boldly stands there as we stare at each other.
My inner instinct’s start feeling something new, a feeling of anger at the stranger and for the first time I feel a need to charge head long into trouble.
Even though I want to accept who I am now, I am still reluctant to shed blood unnecessarily. Therefore, I go for a dissuasion strategy.
Feeling my body puff up I *Squeak.
Although I am attempting to mock the opponent.
Tom: “Hey you fly, begone from my territory.”
The admittedly unimpressive insult turned out to be a hit, or maybe the other grey lizard overreacted and *screeched.
My large form stood up as my opponent ran at me, my shadow stretching over the grass of the clearing, and engulfing my opponent.
I send out a *Screech of my own before jumping to engage in melee combat.
My head lands atop my opponent, our horns clashing in a hollow *Thuk sound, like a knock on a door. 14 cm (5.5 inches) long I am slightly smaller than my opponent at 15 cm (5.9 inches).
We push on each other, attempting to wedge our horns into our opponents eye.
My initial lung got me close, but now I had begun to be pushed back. My body may be small, but my horn’s are no less bigger or sharper than my opponent.
Thinking quickly allows me to come up with a plan, my sense of self coming up with this plan rather than my instincts. The plan to allow my opponents horn through, while angling my head down.
Once my opponent had overshot me I quickly stab up, with the soft, small scales underneath the mouth I am able to pierce through with my nose horn.
My opponent in a panic proceeds to thrash around, dislodging my horn and throwing me a distance in the process.
However, I quickly get up before staring at my opponent still upside down and panting, meanwhile I am no worse for wear.
Deciding to capitalise on my opponents lax attitude I scurry forward, my little feet clawing at the blades of grass to propel me forward.
I run up a bit too slowly as the lizard flips over, with blood still dripping from its mouth, it opens the mouth wide as a threat display.
Ignoring the two sets of razor sharp teeth I run around, before latching on to the underside of the neck. Just below the back horn’s.
My tight grip remains as my opponent begins to thrash again. Snapping his mouth at my body, but because of my grip he is not able to reach me.
His tail lashing out at me hurts, whipping me over my back and hitting my spine, but I keep latching on and retaliate with my own tail.
Having a better purchase on my opponent allows me to flip over alongside him, rather than being thrown away. We tussle in the grass, a mess of limbs and claws and whipping tails.
Eventually I let go, feeling myself tire and begin to hurt too much for my liking. We separate and gain some distance between each other.
Blood drip’s off my side, where sharp claws raked them up and down, my scales slashed in half or ripped off.
My opponent is in a similar situation, my teeth left a large wound on his neck while I went into a frenzy, my teeth grinding in place on the scale’s and later his flesh. The pierced mouth was the same, but his sides were also cut by my claw’s.
Now I just need to wait for the neck wound to further debilitate my opponent, then victory would be mine. Less competition for me.
Wait, this is wrong, I didn’t want this much blood shed when I began this fight. But why do I want to eliminate my competition so much now?
Unfortunately, my thinking time was cut lose once more. From behind the other lizard something shook the bushes.
The larger lizard was closer, and had its head facing me, leaving him no time to react to what came next.
The sound of twigs breaking and air being displaced came too late, as a Maned wolf shot out of the underbrush. Jaws snapping shut over my enemy. His tiny form being bit in half, blood spurting out between little teeth and spraying in my direction.
Fighting caused my adrenaline to rise, but now its production increased once more, beyond what I thought possible. Watching something that I had a tough fight with getting crushed so easily instantly made me retreat. But I will not forget that moment anytime soon.
I ran away, my heart felt like it was going to explode, my tail luckily didn’t detach.
By the time that the Maned wolf had finished thrashing the dead lizard it turned its attention my way. But by then I was on the other side of the clearing, and making a mad dash to a nearby tree.
Once next to the tree, I quickly scampered up the truck, going up diagonally to hide myself from view of the Maned wolf running after me. Yet, the Maned wolf still caught up.
*Snap
*Growl
I could feel the air get displaced just behind my tail, bloody slobber thrown over the trees trunk.
Scampering up the branches and breaking line of sight from the beast.
After some time and with a disappointed growl the beast left, while I hid in the canopy. Luckily for me the trees had plenty of leaves to shield me from aerial predators, with me being this high up it would have been far easier for them to snatch me up than when I was on the ground.
THREE MONTHS LATER
Summer is coming to an end. The day’s are becoming colder and I would not be surprised to start seeing the leave’s start to change colour.
The water is much colder now, but considering that it comes from some mountains a large distance away that is to be expected. Those snow covered peaks appear to be growing, or I could be going insane.
I am acutely aware of all the sound’s around me, a noise from a hawk like creature, to a bark of something unknown, to the sound of a Maned wolf. I can hear the cricket’s chirp and other small insect’s join a chorus with the smaller bird’s.
I am quiet, far too scared to talk, but also as a lizard I do not seem to be very sociable. The quiet is my friend. To know rather than to be known.
From my spot on the rock I look around my clearing, seeing the bushes on my left shift I run away. Hiding in the branches of a nearby tree, while something walks out into my clearing.
This someone appears to be the size of a 14 year old child, although their arms are elongated and their skin is green. Two tusks come from the lower jaw and stick out over their upper lip, while the mouth remains closed.
I am currently rather large, being 20 cm long (7.9 inches), so I am wary of larger creatures that might see me as a snack. Considering that these four Goblin’s are dressed in Maned wolf pelt’s, as well as smaller creature’s, I am inclined to stay away.
From this distance I can see some decoration’s, like a native American bonnet on the leader, made from red and black feather’s. All of them wearing necklaces around their arm’s, but also their hide clothes are adorned with teeth and shell’s that are sown on.
They appear to be an organised group, as they disappear back into the clearing as silently as they came, even if I saw them easily they were much better at this than that rogue.
Once some time has passed, yet before I feel safe to climb down, I begin to think of food. This food might be juicy bug’s, like Cicada, but they are still better than those Dung beetle’s.
How the mighty have fallen, from eating Chicken and Beef to dreaming of bug’s. Unfortunately, my favourite picking’s are becoming scarcer every day and I might be going hungry soon altogether.
I know all those anime and fantasy tropes, so maybe I have been going about my life all wrong. Maybe I need to seek for power than be given it? Well it is worth a shot.
Tom: “If a God of Dragons exists then please make me into a Dragonkin! I don’t want to be useless all my life and die young, again! I wish to bring fear into the hearts of my enemies, and I want to eat nice meat, and I want to live in a nice place, with lots of sunshine. And, I hope you have a nice day!”