《Re: Gentle Heart》


 Prologue

    Tom regained consciousness with a pounding in his head and a dull ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes a crack and looked around, trying to string two thoughts together before closing them. He placed his hands flat against the ground beneath him, pushing himself off the floor. The world lurched, along with his stomach.


    He raised his head and gently opened his eyes again, trying to figure out what happening. He looked to his right and was barely able to make out three shapes that seemed to be people. He felt something wet, dripping down his temple. He raised his hand and it came away with blood on the tips.


    He knew one thing so far, and that was that he was injured. Something had clobbered him over the head. He looked once more in the direction of the people, seeking an explanation. Two of the shapes seemed to be kneeling over the third which was on the ground, moving about frantically.


    He briefly wondered what they were doing, when he realized a shock that made even his volatile stomach drop like a stone.


    ¡°Jen¡±, Tom murmured. His cousin had followed him, to help him carry groceries from the 24 hour store, even though he had told her that it wasn¡¯t necessary. Normally he wouldn¡¯t have mind, but not this late at night. It wasn¡¯t a bad part of town, but neither was it the safest.


    Tom wasted no time in getting to his feet, he knew there was only one thing the two other people would be trying to do. As he stood, he took a deep breath, then another, trying to clear his mind. Even in his befuddled state he knew if he wasn¡¯t careful he could get himself, or even worse, his sister killed.


    Careful, so as not to make noise and warn them, he stepped towards the other two people, he had identified as men. Jen was still struggling and muffled screams could be heard escaping from behind the hand of the man kneeling at hear head.


    He then raised his other hand and brought it down with a loud clap.


    ¡°Stop moving, bitch!¡± he shouted though his beard. Seeing her temporarily stunned, he shot an irritated look at his partner, telling him move it along.


    Tom never heard the last part, all he heard was the loud slap, followed by Jen¡¯s lack of movement, and everything faded to white.


    He had always had a flash pan temper as a child, and it was only when he reaching high school that he had learnt to control it, and by now he hadn¡¯t lost his temper in years.


    But this was different.


    In his whole life, he had only ever lost it in this way twice. Once, when a classmate had refused to listen to his warnings and continued doing what he was doing. The second was when a dog had bit him.  In both cases he had simply held them by the throat and pinned them to the floor until they stopped moving, before releasing them. Not that he was a violent guy, but when someone or something provoked him in such a fashion, he answered in kind.


    But this was different.


    This time he wasn¡¯t the only target, his cousin was. This time he felt no need to hold back, not when men chose to behave like animals, especially when it was directed at his family.


    With quick steps, Tom was behind the man who was frantically trying to drive apart Jen¡¯s leg. He reached around and thrust his fingers deep into the eyes of the first man. The man threw his head back screaming in pain while his hands scrabbled at Tom¡¯s, trying to remove the source of his pain.


    By this time the second man looked up again, surprised to find Tom standing behind his partner glaring at him. Tom, with his hands still on the head of the first man, used his imbalanced posture against him, throwing him to the side, away from the trembling girl. Since Tom had plunged his fingers into the man¡¯s eye sockets, he had considered him to be temporarily immobilized. It was the reason he had locked eyes with the second man, the one who had triggered his rage. He was no free to deal with him.


    The second man stood up, withdrawing his hand from Jen¡¯s mouth, and she immediately started sobbing from fright. Tom, with his fists clenched at his side, his temple throbbed in tune with adrenalin saturated heart.


    He looked briefly at his cousin to be sure she wasn¡¯t in immediate danger, before finally allowing his fury to completely inundate his being. His rage was at once primal and simplistic in its nature, with a single, instinctual directive: destroy those that threaten you and yours.


    Tom turned once more to the last man and started slow, steady steps towards him. Fear began to replace caution, gaining dominance as Tom steadily closed the distance between them.


    Tom wasn¡¯t a big man, nor particularly intimidating. On a normal day that is.


    With his jaw clenched and his shoulders bunched, blood dripping down his face, Tom¡¯s countenance was that of a demon.


    The man continued to back away from Tom, which seemed to only anger him further. Tom leapt forwards, quickly closing the distance between them before the man could react and thrust his right hand under the man¡¯s chin, grabbing him by the throat. In the back of Tom¡¯s mind he knew that normally it was next to impossible to suffocate a man with one hand only. It was why he chose the easier route.


    Tom pinched his thumb and fingers behind the man¡¯s windpipe, and began to crush the cartilage with a single hand. The world seemed to slow as all senses were focused on the object of his rage, he no longer felt the thump of his headache, ignoring the blood dripping over his brow. Only one thing mattered.


    The man¡¯s eyes bulged, his mouth opened and closed with choking sounds while his hands tried to bleak the lock Tom had on his neck. Realizing that he wouldn¡¯t be able to break Tom¡¯s hold, he tried scratching at his face, but Tom simply leaned out of reach.


    Tom kept looking at the man¡¯s face as it began flushing red, as his hand dropped out of sight. Then he felt a sharp pain accompanied by a thud that he felt at his core, followed by another and another. He looked down to see the man¡¯s fist, covered in blood and clasped around something. He watched as the man, in slow motion drew his hand away, and he saw the blade of a knife extending from his fist.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.With his left hand, Tom held the wrist of the hand that held the knife, and kept it away from his side. He looked down at himself, and saw the amount of blood that had soaked his shirt. He raised his head once more, glaring at the man, and poured all his strength into his hand.


    Then he heard, or rather felt a distinct crunch, and his right hand closed. Tom pushed the man over, releasing both his hand and windpipe, or what was left of it. The man collapsed on the floor clutching at his throat, strangled gasps escaping from his collapsed voice box.


    Tom stood over the man, watching him briefly before turning away in disgust, his hand pressed against his side. He looked for Jen, but she had already recovered, and was making her way around the first man that Tom had blinded, who was rolling on the ground his hands were at his face, but couldn¡¯t touch it for fear of aggravating his injury so he kept moaning about his eyes.


    Jen approached Tom, her hair and clothes disheveled and makeup smudged, along with a red cheek where she had been slapped, but was otherwise unhurt.


    ¡°You look fine¡±, Tom sighed with relief, followed shortly by a wince as he released such a long breath. Jen, seeing his painful expression looked to where the his hand was clutched at his side.


    ¡°Tommy, you¡¯re hurt!¡±, she said, her voice full of concern. She rushed to his side and pulled his hand away briefly to see how bad he was injured. A fresh, crimson wave poured out, and she hastily pressed her hand against it again.


    Tom, was already feeling drained, as his adrenaline rush wore off, along with the blood loss.


    ¡°Damn, he must¡¯ve nicked something important¡±, Tom muttered before looking back at Jen. ¡°You need to get an ambulance,¡± not noticing that she had already pulled out her phone with her other hand.


    ¡°I know!¡± she snapped. Tom could see tears sprouting from the corners of her eyes. He looked around to figure out where they were while Jen relayed their positions and names to the person on the other end.


    It was an alley, dirty, with dustbins to one side that barely contained all the rubbish it held. He heard form Jen where they were as she spoke on the phone, but he had already figured it out. He had recognized this alley as the one that he often walked on his way back to his apartment from the bar, where he was considered a regular. It was about a twenty minute walk home from the bar.


    This particular night, his cousin had come out to visit him as they were close friends, and she planned to stay over at his place, before driving home in the morning.


    They decided to make their way out of the alley, onto the main road to make them easy to spot for the paramedics. Jen put Tom¡¯s arm over her shoulders so she could support him, letting Tom take over the compression on the wounds. As they reached the road, Tom, who had gradually been relying more and more on Jen for support finally collapsed, nearly pulling Jen down with him.


    ¡°Tommy!¡± Jen quickly knelt next to him, ignoring the pain in her knees and leant down, using her weight to apply pressure to his gut. Her brow was creased, and her mascara had run tracks down her cheeks.


    Despite the pain, Tom was oddly calm. He thought it might be because his body was beginning to show signs of shock, and he noted how his feet were cold. He knew he was dying, he had realized just how dangerous the situation was when he saw the amount of blood had soaked his clothes. He thought it was likely that he was bleeding a significant amount internally, which was why he felt worse, despite there being less blood escaping his body.


    Well, at least I have company, he thought, his mind on the man who¡¯s windpipe he had crushed. He was confused for a moment when he thought that if the guy had a knife, he should have used it from the beginning, then he mightn¡¯t died.


    Could only be natural deselection, he thought, a small smile crept onto his ghostly pale face. His smile grew as he realized the irony in that thought.


    ¡°Please, Tommy! Hang on!¡± Jen wailed. His smile seemed to compound her concern. He briefly wondered if she was going to follow up with a line like, ¡®Don¡¯t go towards the light!¡¯  Then realized he wasn¡¯t being fair to her.


    Tom was already feeling exhausted, cold and light headed. He knew the paramedics wouldn¡¯t make it in time. He placed his hand over hers, on his belly, gently petting her hands muttering ¡®don¡¯t worry¡¯ and ¡®it¡¯ll be fine¡¯, though he knew it wouldn¡¯t be.


    His hand slowed, and then stopped moving altogether, and he simply closed his eyes.


    Then he saw a white light.


    Author: Hey guys, this is my first ff. I know the prologue it a bit much to stomach, but I wanted to use it as an opportunity to build the character, and give everyone a taste at what his nature is like, instead of waiting for a number of chapters. I¡¯m writing this ff to develop my writing style, at I initially wanted to write about another story idea that I had, but I realized I need to improve myself further to express it well. So I plan to devote all my attention to this story until I feel comfortable with writing in this manner.


    Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome, as I will use them to improve my writing.


    PS: To all those who are writing or have written their own ff, you have my respect, and to those who are able to consistently publish chapters, my admiration.


    This sh#t is a lot harder than it seems.

 Chapter 1

    Chapter 1


    Tom awoke to the sound of a deep rumbling, a deep bass, it was the kind that resounded in the chest. It raised in pitch and dropped several times, until he realized it was actually a voice.


    He opened his eyes, but quickly closed them, finding the bright light formidable. He felt motion and screamed a protest as he felt sandpaper across his skin. He tried moving his arms and legs, but they wouldn¡¯t do as he directed. He nearly panicked as he couldn¡¯t understand the source of all these overwhelming sensations.


    He cracked open his eyes and closed them again, repeating this process several times to adjust to the light source. He felt motion again, this time it wasn¡¯t accompanied by the harsh pain that felt like he was being skinned alive. The motion had a pattern, as he swayed gently back and forth he realized that he was being carried and the harsh light was the sun. He was outside. Though he couldn¡¯t understand it, as it had been night time when he fought those two rapists, which lead to his untimely demise.


    He paused, a thought flitted across his mind. No, couldn¡¯t be.


    He began struggling as hard as he could trying to ignore the scratching on his skin and began calling out. A warbling noise rushed forth from his mouth, and he shut it, surprised, all other thoughts slipped from his mind. He was silent for a few moments, waiting for the sound to repeat. Hearing nothing, opened his mouth again, only to hear that strange warble once more.


    He realized with a shock that the bizarre sound came from him, but his surprise was short lived as the swaying motion stopped. He felt himself being handled, gently, followed by his face being overshadowed. His eyes quickly adjusted as he peered into the shadow and saw the giant, smiling face of a woman.


    ¡°Gaaah!¡± he yelled, surprised. The woman¡¯s smile deepened, her azure eyes twinkling. She opened her mouth, speaking in a deep, soft voice that reverberated through his chest. It was different from the first voice he had heard. He found it oddly soothing, though he couldn¡¯t understand a word of what she said. She leaned forward, her face looming over his and her hair fell around her face. Her hair was deep bronze, with blond streaks. He reached up with his wildly waving hands, and as he brushed against it, he found it to be incredibly soft, even to his sensitive fingers. She seemed to be in her late twenties, but she wore her age well, so he couldn¡¯t be sure.


    She brought her face closer, rubbing her nose against his and whispered a single word.


    ¡°Ahrindel.¡±


    He knew then, almost instinctually, what had happened. He had been reborn.


    He was a child, a babe, and this stunning beauty must be his mother, or at least his caretaker. She continued to make cooing sounds, which would distract any baby, but he simply looked at her, still trying to get a handle on what exactly had happened to him.


    Last I remember I had passed out on the pavement, and Jen was there, he thought. He was entirely focused on his thoughts, for the most part ignoring the giant face that seemed intent on getting some reaction.


    Ah, there was that bright light. And I did follow it, though it wasn¡¯t like I had a choice. Then¡­.sensation overload. He was concerned over his cousin, but after realizing he could do nothing at this time, he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind.


    His contemplation was interrupted by the realization that he no longer heard those annoying baby sounds that adults make. He looked up to see the anxious expression on the woman he had dubbed ¡°Mother¡±.  She seemed worried that he hadn¡¯t reacted like a normal baby would, all smiles and spastic arms.


    He immediately broke out his cheesiest, toothless smile in an attempt to placate her. It seemed to work as she smiled back.


    Step one complete: Assimilate with the natives, he thought. He laughed then as he thought he was being silly. His mother seemed content to simply look at him, but he felt a rumble in his stomach. He realized at that point, as a baby, which could only mean one of two things. And for both of them assistance was required.


    He began to wave his arms, succeeding in looking even more spastic than what he had established to be the norm, while repeatedly shouting ¡°Gaah!¡± His mother smiled wryly and giggled seeing his frantic motions. She said something as the unwrapped him from some kind of cloth to check if he had made a mess. He felt utterly exposed and embarrassed, even though he knew it to be necessary.


    Must be hungry then, he thought. His mother seemed to agree as she laid him on some kind of furry, dark brown surface. He tried turning his head to the sides and could make out the edge of a wooden surface, which he assumed to be some kind of furniture. He looked back at his mother to see her reach behind her back to completely remove her top, which seemed to be made of incredibly supple leather.


    Her breasts were massive, at least to his eyes, though they balanced well with her form.


    Big enough to smother a baby, he thought dryly, though he knew he wasn¡¯t in any danger. He knew it from the moment he had seen the loving look she gave him.


    Just like mom, he thought sadly of his mother he had left behind on earth. She wasn¡¯t the only one. He was fortunate enough to have both his parents alive when he had died, as well as a few really good friends. He had never been an overly social person, but he had friends and family he knew he could rely on, and he was fiercely loyal in return.


    He once more drove such thought out of mind as his mother picked him up and drew him to her breast. This should be interesting.


    After feeding him, his mother dressed herself once more and held him against her shoulder. After a number of uncomfortable belches he felt exhausted and allowed himself to drift off.


    The next time he woke he actually did feel a mess, much to his chagrin, though he knew it was unavoidable, and he silently urged his body to quickly grow to the point where he could wipe his own backside. He waved his arms again while yelling ¡°Gaah!¡±. To him it seemed the easiest noise to make, and was like universal baby talk for ¡°Help me now, minion¡±.


    This time his frantic calls were answered by a man who seemed to wear a bear cub on his face, and had deep, forest green eyes with golden flecks in them. Despite his brown face bear, his short hair was a dark blonde, almost bronze. He had toothy smile peeking through his beard and picked him up, answering him with a number of ¡°gaah¡¯s¡±, his voice deep, incredibly so. It was the same voice as the one he first heard, the one that made his chest rumble.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Step two complete: communicate with the natives, he thought, I dub thee, Father. It was certainly how it seemed, unless he was the scary uncle.


    His father spoke to him, his voice rumbling, though he couldn¡¯t understand a single word, but one word in particular was repeated a number of times while cleaning him and redressing him.


    ¡°Ahrindel¡±


    Must be my name, he thought. It made sense considering both of his parents used it when handling him. Unless they¡¯re referring to the mess I made, he thought dryly.


    His father placed him onto the pile of furs where he had first awoken and began making baby noises while playing with him. At first he didn¡¯t react much, but then he considered that this couple had borne him, thinking they would receive a beautiful, innocent child, but instead they had a babe with the mind of a twenty two year old, that had killed a man.


    He didn¡¯t regret killing the man. The moment they had laid hands on his cousin in such a way, as far as he was concerned, their lives were forfeit. What he did feel guilty about was how he felt he had taken the place of this couples child, like some kind of villain from a fairytale. He understood that he couldn¡¯t do anything to change it, but he thought he would try to fulfil their expectations as parents.


    He began to behave much more in the way as a normal baby would. He laughed more, smiled more, using his clumsy hands to grasp his parent¡¯s fingers or hair. He refused to cry though, after all, he was still a man. He could tell that his parents ate it up, and, oddly enough, he was enjoying himself.


    This was how he passed the days, being fed, being cleaned, being tossed in the air by his father and being snuggled by his mother.


    He was unable to clearly determine the amount of time that had passed since his birth, though he knew it had been some months, as he was able roll over, crawl, and annoyingly enough he was teething. He understood for the first time the urge babies and pups had to chew on things.


    He was able to understand a number of things though. Firstly, his name was actually Ahrindel, as his parents didn¡¯t use it exclusively when he made a mess. He was also beginning to understand the language, enough to understand some of what his parents were saying. His father¡¯s name was Eran, and his mother¡¯s was Katrin. They seemed to be human, maybe larger than average, though it was difficult to tell as he had nothing to compare them to. He had also been forcing himself to think of himself as Ahrindel, as he tried putting his past behind him.


    He didn¡¯t know what world he was in, but it looked to be almost medieval, judging by how his parents were dressed. They were wearing what was a combination of carefully tanned leather, furs and metal. The metal looked to be iron, but Ahrindel had little experience in his previous life with handling metals, though he thought it might be nice to learn, especially if it was a medieval era.


    After gaining some semblance of mobility through crawling, he was able to determine that his family were, in fact, cavemen.


    As far as caves go it was actually really nice, the entrance had an overhang, protecting it from rain, and the tunnel that opened up to it was slightly elevated, and lead to a large cavern, with more than enough space for them.  Thankfully, there weren¡¯t any stalactites, as Ahrindel had an irrational fear of them impaling him, especially with Eran¡¯s booming voice, which easily echoed within. Katrin often scolded him for it as it was actually pretty frightening when he speaks normally in the cave.


    Eran and Katrin often took turns leaving the cave to forage, sometimes returning with a carcass of a deer or wild pig, roots and bulbs, berries. Ahrindel was amazed at the sheer diversity and amount that they were able to find, both of them. It was one day such as this that Ahrindel was sitting under the overhang, under the watchful gaze of his mother, that Eran returned with a stag over his  shoulders, his spear held by two fingers in his left hand while the rest of his fingers gripped the hind legs. The stag¡¯s antlers were magnificent, broad and symmetrical. It was a prime example of the species.


    Katrin stood up smiling walking towards Eran to help him maneuver the stag¡¯s bulk from his shoulders. Ahrindel was shocked though. He couldn¡¯t believe he hadn¡¯t noticed it before. The stag was massive, he judged it to be close to three hundred kilograms. No normal man could lift it.


    He looked closer as his parents handled it¡¯s mass, and saw that despite its enormous bulk, it still looked smaller than it should be on Eran¡¯s shoulders.


    Eran was a giant, he realized. At least compared to the average man, or what he considered the average man to be on earth as he had yet to see other human beings.


    Katrin stood next to Eran, and Ahrindel was able to tell that she was also a giant, or giantess. He was too shocked to do anything other than allowing his jaw to slacken as he watched his father hold the carcass up against a wooden frame while his mother used leather thongs to tie the hind legs at the top of the frame.


    Not cavemen, he thought, giants! I¡¯m a freaking baby giant!  He was actually ecstatic, enough so that he began to laugh manically. Surprised, Eran and Katrin turned to Ahrindel, only to see him laughing while holding his toes and they joined in his laughter.


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    Author¡¯s Note


    Ok, so I know many people assumed this story would be a ff of Re: Monster, but I chose to write this similar to how Mushoku Tensei was written. As much as I love the OP mc in Re: Monster and other re¡¯s, I think that telling the story similar to Mushoku Tensei suits my style. Sorry to disappoint anybody who was hoping for that. Plus, learning how to make tables and how to balance the characters in a fantasy world as if it were a game is a whole other can of worms that I¡¯d rather not get into yet. For me the ¡°Re¡± part stands for reincarnate or rebirth, which is why I still think it suits this ff.


    As before, comments and reviews are welcome, as you guys often see my blind spots, and I appreciate hearing of them.