There were five of them, emerging from different directions as if they had been coordinating their approach. Their faces were the most terrifying aspect, not because they were grotesque, but because they were almost recognisable. Each wraith bore features that might once have been human, but twisted by whatever dark force had claimed them. Their eyes burned with red fire, and their mouths hung open in silent screams that somehow conveyed more anguish than any sound could.
It wasn't like anything he had seen before, and he froze.
Jarkan's blood turned to ice as understanding hit him. These weren't random monsters or wild creatures of this realm. He could tell that they were like hunters, preying on others.
He could feel their attention focused on him like a physical weight, drawn by something they sensed within him.
They had come for him, focused all their attention on him.
The nearest wraith, its form wreathed in particularly dense clouds of crimson smoke, let out a wail that bypassed his ears entirely and struck directly at his soul. The sound—if it could be called that—was filled with such despair and rage that Jarkan staggered backwards, his concentration shattering. The peaceful evening was gone, replaced by an atmosphere of dread so thick it was almost suffocating.
As the wraiths closed in, moving with unnatural fluidity that defied the norms he knew, Jarkan shook his head, slapped his face, too.
"Get yourself together."
He had died once already—he wasn't about to let these shadow-beings claim him before he had truly lived in this new world. And he was powerless unlike his previous self.
His hands moved instinctively to defensive positions, elemental energy already beginning to gather around him.
The creek behind him continued its gentle song, the meadow grass still swayed in the evening breeze, and somewhere in the distance, night birds called to their mates. But here, in this small circle of space beside the Whispering Creek, the battle between light and shadow was about to begin.
Jarkan's eyes hardened with resolve as the wraiths drew within striking distance, their forms seeming to drink in the last rays of sunlight. Whatever these creatures wanted from him, whatever had drawn them to this peaceful place, they would learn that a soul reborn was not so easily claimed. The elements themselves seemed to respond to his determination, the air around him beginning to shimmer with barely contained power.
The first wraith raised what might have been an arm, crimson energy coalescing around its hand into something resembling a claw made of pure malevolence. Its red eyes locked onto Jarkan's, and in that gaze he saw not just hunger, but a terrible, ancient intelligence that had been waiting for this moment.
The hunt had begun.