One would not associate the cold embrace of death with continuous pain. Sure that sudden stop in the last moments of his life had pain but with his passage from life to afterlife should this sensation not have long stopped? What was worse was, he could not even see what the afterlife looked like, tales and guesses spoke of heavens or hells, perhaps reincarnation or becoming a ghost. Had any of them spoke of continued pain and eternal darkness? None that he could recall. Gritting teeth he did not question having as a ghost he forced his way through the darkness, rough hands rubbed at his face and it was then that he knew something different had happened.
To go back a bit, he was originally called Marcus, though in light of his new existence he could hardly call himself by the memories of himself. He had been a rather unassuming guy growing up, he had friends, a girl he crushed on, he went to school and after a time held a job. His last moments were on said job, his girlfriend had dropped by to cheer him up on a long boring shift of watching brats try to shoplift half the contents of the store, a thief had barged in waving a gun. He had stood before his girl but hadn't realized how scared she was, his last moment was his girlfriend shoving him towards the thief, the sound of a gun going off and the blossoming pain in both his physical and emotional states.
Now here he found pain again, had the shot not been fatal? He obviously had a body, but something was covering his eyes almost like a thick ooze. The more he felt around the more he wondered what was going on, this body didnt feel like his. When he touched his face it was like touching his girlfriend's handbag, yet also the shape was wrong. Yet Marcus couldn't pin point exactly what was different, perhaps he was in some sort of medical solution that was trying to repair his body? No, it felt more warm and restrictive than any sort of gel. Marcus struggled against the numbness in his limbs, his arms finally coming in contact with something firm surrounding him.
His hands awkwardly gripped at the surface, it felt less like glass and more like stone, had they put him in some sort of casket? Was the fluid some sort of preserving solution so they could study his organs? A chill ran down Marcus' back. His struggles increased, his limbs flailing slowly against the surrounding goo, his fists beating at this tiny box he found himself in. A silent scream of denial leapt from his mouth as his fingers scrambled against the hard material before finally finding purchase. His arms flexed as a loud muffled *crack* seemed to come from his messy prison. A sliver of redeeming brilliance flooded his prison inspiring hope in his mind as he grabbed at the edges and wrenched hard, the crack expanding noticeably. The fluid that filled his every orifice began draining quite quickly as a spider web of secondary cracks spread from this initial torn hole.
With an urge to live, Marcus thrust his body against the hole, smashing through his now somewhat brittle prison, exploding free in a shower of rough shards and an eruption of slick slime. He felt his body collapse against a firm floor, yet it was a floor unlike any he had experienced. This was no polished tile or linoleum, nor was it the rough texture of wood or concrete. Rather as he pushed himself up in the torrent of greenish slime he could see in the limited light the floor was natural stone, rough and uneven. Obviously worked and well tread but nothing man made. Turning his head shaking the goo from his face was the second shock. No casket or tube laid behind him, rather the shattered remains of an... egg? Marcus coughed and fell back awkwardly on his butt, shifting, trying to get comfortable despite the rapidly cooling slime, yet it felt like he had sat on his buddies iguana.
Glancing down, he could see the third and final shock that robbed him of his renewed conciousness, gone was his old body. Rather he found himself in something more akin to a crocodile or alligator. Well, if either was humanoid at any rate, the reason he could not sit properly was due to his tail that had become trapped under his butt and was trying to straighten out from its awkward position. Marcus giggled softly, his eyes rolling back and promptly passed out, his final thoughts being an affirmative... "Nope! Screw this dream!"
* * * * *
Marigold frowned at her younger brother as the pair trudged up the winding path. A large basket was cradled in her arms. Every year it was the same, their village tasked the young lad to bring the offerings up to the shrine in the hills, and every year she was asked to accompany him since he was prone to 'getting lost', little did the villagers realize the little rat wasn't directionally challenged, he was just a lazy git that constantly shirked his responsibilities and forced her to carry his slack. Even now laden down with the offerings to the local god, her brother was disappearing off into the hills, likely to way lay one of the poor shepherdess that had her flocks up in these hills, or to meet his cronies and go hunt in the woods further down.
She sighed rolling her honey colored eyes and continued the trek up the mountain path, she could only blame herself for constantly covering for him. She should have been firmer with him when he was younger but with their folks gone and the task of raising a younger sibling left to her she couldn't help spoil him. Yet she worried for him, the village elder had assigned the orphans to shrine keeping, yet all he did was chase skirts or his lofty dreams. Sighing wistfully she finally saw the shrine, then frowned more deeply. The old shrine was built in a rough cave in the mountain behind their village, other than a thick rope barring the entrance it was rather unassuming for a place of worship, but now that the maw of the cave loomed before her she could see a small river of slime escaping from the interior.
Fear gripped her heart as she nearly dropped the basket, setting it to the side of the path she pulled a worn cudgel from her hip and crept towards the shrine. Her mind buzzed wondering if a wounded beast had crawled inside or was a healthy monster now lairing in the cave? Both thoughts she doubted for the rope barrier was still strong across the opening. At least whatever was inside wasn't likely to be too big. Still, caution guided her steps to the cave mouth, using her weapon to lift the rope and ducked inside, slowly creeping towards where the main shrine was housed, frowning as the torrent of slime seemed to increase drenching her feet in slickness that despite the look was comfortably warm.
Entering the main shrine she blinked, the Lords Egg stood broken, half shattered, the slime around her ankles apparently from its interior and a strange monster laid in the goo before it. Rage replaced her fear as she slowly made her way to the prone beast, lifting her cudgel over her head to smash the head of the one that dared defile their shrine...
* * * * *
Marcus groaned pushing himself up off the ground, his body once again slick with the fluid from the egg. Shaking his head his mind finally caught up with what had happened. He had truly been reborn, but from an egg in a cave? He glanced down at himself for the first time truly trying to make sense of the strange sensations, it was glaringly obvious he was no longer human. As he had previously seen his body was more akin to a crocodile, covered in leathery scales that looked under the dim light to be an inky black with glistening purple highlights. His chest was an off white. Like he expected his head was more elongated with a muzzle filled with sharp teeth.
Shaking his head he couldn't make sense of it all. Shifting slightly he moved to turn around and push off the floor so his new tail wasn't in his way but before he could fully shift, a startled cry echoed in the dim cave, there was a flash of strawberry curls before a stout wooden club firmly crashed into his forehead. With a groan, Marcus slumped back down into the slime taking his second impromptu nap of his new life.