There was eternal darkness covering Judas's vision. No matter what or how much he turned around, all he could see was darkness.
Was he even moving? Or was he just staring at a single place devoid of light?
He didn't even know.
But what he knew was that he was most probably dead.
He tried to remember the life he lived as a Judas. He also tried to remember if he had lived any other lives, probably before Judas.
The reason?
He was pretty sure that right now, what remained was his soul, and that his soul was floating in nothingness. That at least justified the notion of why it was pitch black in this place.
His efforts to remember his past lives proved futile. All he could remember was his life as Judas.
Probably he was a new soul that just got created and lived its first cycle of birth and death?
Anyhow, he started to revisit the life he lived as a Judas, its important memories, and so on.
It was not a bad, traumatizing, or magnificent life. It was somewhat above average but was closer to the average mark than the extravagant one.
He was supposedly born in a second-world country called Turkey, back on Earth, in the year 2020.
It was the year when history repeated itself and humans were plagued with a deadly disease waiting to take their lives.
He was born in an era where humans were ever more distant, cruel, less mannered, and so on.
Miseries were bestowed too often upon the world.
But due to having two professional parents, he got through quite well throughout life.
As he was reliving and relishing in his life's best moments, and just when it was about to end with him being in his death bed, being surrounded by his kin at the age of 70, he began feeling throbbing pain in his head.
The pain was too much. It was like someone drilled his head and his brain was getting mashed out.
After a good 3 minutes of excreting pain, it came to an abrupt end. Judas was able to focus now.
He again looked at his surroundings, or he tried to.
But this time around, to his surprise, it was not completely dark. Some light was peeping through, and not only that, he was feeling sensations all over his body.
Wait what? A body???
Wasn't he supposed to be dead?
Slowly, as a result of his intuition, he began to open his eyes. The pain once again came, but this time it was less painful, and he was able to bear through it.
He slowly opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and finally the world came into his view.
In front of him, he saw a tree, and from the gist of it, it seemed like he was outside, but he didn't know exactly where.
To know exactly where he was, he tried to turn his head around, but he was unable to.
Also, he was feeling extremely tired. He knew that the body he was in possession of probably didn't have much energy left.
Nevertheless, he managed to tough it out. He also knew for a fact that he was currently sitting down and was leaning against something. Probably a tree as well.
He tried turning left and right, and from the general atmosphere, somewhat of a dark surrounding, and the presence of trees, he thought he was in a forest.
He was reincarnated; he was damn sure. But the god who made it possible definitely deserved some beating. Yeah seriously.
Who would, in their right mind, reincarnate someone in a forest? A village seemed reasonable.
But all of this aside, the real horror waited for him when he looked down.
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Horror waited for him when he looked down.
He found a knife and some spots stabbed in his abdomen.
His pupil dilated. He was in a panic.
It hasn't been even one minute since he was either reborn or reincarnated, but he had been stabbed that deeply.
There was no blood, though. All the blood was dry.
How was this possible? This body, which he possessed, should have been dead by now, judging by the dry blood.
He looked further and noticed that he was fat—unpleasantly fat. Probably around 300 pounds minimum. Who was this fat dude that had been stabbed?
After some time, he confirmed there were no other injuries inflicted on this body.
He then slowly tried to stand up, but he was unable to. He cursed the owner of the body.
After some effort and using the tree as a support, he finally stood upright.
From his level of vision, he discerned that he was around 5 feet 5 to 5 feet 7, which was a decent height—not too great, not too bad.
He was 5 feet 10 in his previous life.
He slowly stretched his body. There was no pain, but the body was extremely slow.
After a good 5 minutes of settling down, he finally decided to come to terms with the knife and remove it. Now that he looked closer at it, it looked more like a dagger than a sword.
The dagger that usually assassins had in the movies...
He saw that his clothes were torn.
Probably the man he was currently possessing the body was engaged in a fight or had a rough call with an assassin or a hitman and then died.
It was not surprising that the previous owner died, seeing the condition of the body.
He slowly tore a piece of cloth and prepared himself.
He slowly removed the knife. The pain was slowly setting in.
"AHHH," he couldn't take it. He left hold of the knife. It was too much of a pain.
The pain he previously felt was more deadly, but still, that was a mental one. This one was a physical one, which was much harder to handle.
Taking breaks then and now, he tried removing the dagger. Just when it was about to come off, he quickly removed it, dropping the dagger to the ground.