Thick liquid dripped down my forehead and into my eyes, obscuring my hazy vision. Something tight and moist was wrapped around me constricting my movements. In my almost unconscious state, I struggled to reach for my forehead, where I knew a knife had stabbed just moments ago. My arms moved through some sort of sticky, stretchy material as I shifted. 'Am I in one of those bags they stick corpses in?! I'm alive, damnit!'

Fear and confusion warred for control of me as I struggled with my situation. I grabbed at the gooey, hot material that clung to my body, ripping and pushing in a desperate bid for freedom. It felt like being imprisoned in damp, hot sand, and like sand, once I got a good grip, the whole thing collapsed in a single push.

I fell out from my sticky prison, flopping into a wet pool of green liquid. I shook myself furiously as I got to my knees, but stopped halfway up, an alien sight stopping me cold. Strange clumps of purple and blue mushrooms grew all around me, and almost three feet away stood a tiny, ugly goblinoid picking said mushrooms. The sight was alien and utterly confusing, and all my instincts screamed RUN at me, but over the fear was a heavy hunger and disdain that nearly overrode my conscious thoughts. My stomach growled hungrily, and before I even realized what I was doing, the squealing creature was halfway to my mouth.

The foreign feelings jarred my consciousness back into gear, and I was barely able to stop myself from devouring the little goblin. The creature struggled in my grip, and as I rose, my arm moved into my vision. I dropped the goblin as a heart attack nearly killed me. My arm, once flabby and weak, was now a toned monstrosity, thick tendons flowing along well defined muscle. As if this weren't shocking enough, my skin was an ugly green! A quick check of my forehead found nothing but smooth, unbroken skin where a knife wound should be.

Questions filled my mind, but the hunger was growing rapidly, enough that it nearly overwhelmed all other thought. A quick glance showed the little goblin had already scampered, but there were plenty of mushrooms around and the aroma was intoxicating. I grabbed a handful, ripping the heads off several thick heads, and gobbled them down. Which is when I noticed that my jaw was a thick square, and my head was slightly lower and more forward than usual. There were just too many questions, but I could figure all that out after I stuffed my face.

Handful after handful of mushrooms were stuffed down my gullet. After each clump was finished, I dug up the roots, ate them, dirt and all, then moved on. After nearly fifty hand sized mushrooms, my hunger was sated enough for logical thought. I took a quick look around to assess the situation. I was in a large cave, with several small islands surrounded by extremely shallow water. Blueish light filtered in from large holes in a ceiling covered in moss and fungus. I found no immediate exits, but noted several egg-like objects situated on most of the tiny islands. And that is when I noticed the massive green monstrosity hunched over the swiftly dwindling remnants of a gooey egg that lay where I had emerged. What could only be described as a troll was pulling great chunks of soft flesh and stuffing its face. The green and grey goo looked horrendous, but an unfamiliar urge to feast filled me, along with a primal anger to see what was mine being stolen by another.

But despite what felt like foreign thoughts pushing at my mind, I managed to keep my cool. That is, until I began to notice the similarities between us. The skin color, the thick muscles, the head that jutted forward from the shoulders, rather than sitting atop them. Understanding slowly dawned on me. I wasn’t human. And that meant I had probably died and reincarnated or some shit like that. But rather than ponder the what and the why, my mind returned to those last few moments in what I was already starting to think of as my previous life. Everything had been perfect. My new job was excellent, and I'd even landed a hot girlfriend, which was quite the surprise, as someone as beautiful as her should have already been taken. Well, now I knew why. She was bat shit insane! Just one small argument over sex, and she totally killed me, and we had only gone on two whole dates! What kind of girl kills a dude for refusing sex after a second date?! And worse, by refusing sex, I ended dying as a pitiful virgin! WHAT THE FUCK!

I sank to my knees in a fit of rage and despair, the only comfort being that I was still alive. But where was I? WHAT was I? Curiosity, and a desperate need to avoid thinking about my situation pushed my thoughts back to the feasting creature in hopes of learning just what I had become. It had a thick, brutish jaw that made up at least half of its head, and small, fearsome eyes. Its shoulders were massive, topping a hairless body that was smooth and slightly slick. Its legs well proportioned and…. and….. My gaze had settled on the crotch of the green thing, or rather, the LACK of a crotch. Horror filled me, and I slowly reached between my legs. Smooth, muscled flesh greeted my probing hands. No dumbells. No cha chas. No mushroom waiting to bloom. I lost it.

I howled in pure rage, uncontrollable emotions bursting down what shreds of self control kept the alien emotions that were filling me in check. I ran at the monster, hands outstretched like claws as I prepared to kill the green thief that was taking what was mine.

RIP, CRUSH, THROTTLE, MAIM KILL BURN, MAIM KILL BURN,

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Though the attack was a surprise even to me, my wailing charge got my targets attention immediately. The troll, the only word I could think of to describe the creature, roared in response, leaping to meet my charge. We met in a thunderous collision. Flesh slammed into flesh as we grabbed at each other, unskilled fighters attempting to wrestle each other into submission. A fist slammed into my face, breaking several teeth, but by letting go with one hand, it gave me the advantage in the grapple. I wrapped my arms around its neck, and pulled its face into my knee. Grisly teeth bit into my leg as he bit the oncoming knee. Though it hurt, its face took the worst of it, teeth shattering in a bloody mess. I repeated the process, or rather, tried too, but it interposed its hand between its face and my knee, pushing hard to keep me from slamming its head into a messy pulp. The other arm slammed into my shoulders, unable to see with its head shoved into my chest. I let go of its neck, slipped a leg behind its ankle, and shoved with all I had. Though the constant blows to my shoulders weakened my shove, its lack of balance sent it tumbling down.

Capitalizing on my foe's prone state, I slammed the heel of my foot on its wrist, which broke with a tiny snap. I kicked it in the face as it scrambled to get up, knocking it over, and repeated the process as it tried to get up yet again, sending it on its side. This time, it got up before I reached it, and we grappled a second time. This time, however, I had a large advantage, having two good hands, and most of my teeth. I blocked a punch with both arms, ducked a second, and dragged it into an arm bar. A kick to the calf sent it to its knees, and I let go of its arm, and grabbed its neck. The head stuck out and forward, rather than straight up, which made things a bit difficult, but I still got one arm around its neck, while the other pinned a flailing arm. The troll tried to elbow me, but I shoved its face into the dirt, and leaned my weight on it.

It struggled wildly, and almost got out of my hold several times, but I regained control using my slightly superior size. I slowly dragged the monster to the pool and forced its head beneath the foot high water. But the swoll green creature wouldn't stop struggling. After nearly three minutes of choking ad thrashing, it still didn't stop struggling. It was at this point that I considered whether the creature even needed air, which was more than a bit worrying. Deciding to abandon an obviously losing strategy, but unsure how to proceed, I glanced around the room, and almost lost my grip when I spotted three more of the monsters, except these were clothed in biker leathers and held massive metal cleavers. Fortunately for me, they seemed more interested in enjoying the spectacle, pointing and laughing at the sight.

The thrashing troll didn’t give me much time to stare, and so I turned back on it long enough to readjust my hold. I used a foot to search through the soft silt at the bottom of the water, feeling for rocks or any hard surfaces to smash the troll's thick skull against. but to no avail. Another quick glance showed a few rocks on the island, but all out of arm's reach. With no real options, I went for the only plan I could think of. Though consumed by fury, the thought of what I was about to do made the small, sane part of me want to hurl. I closed my eyes for a moment, immersing myself in the alien rage to drown out the shrill and incessant protests of my mind, then turned to stare at the exposed neck of the troll. I took a deep breath, then bit down. My teeth ripped the flesh off as easily as tearing apart fresh chicken wings. The taste was far beyond the most incredible wings I’d ever tried. The taste was so incredible, I was three bites in before I caught hold of myself enough to stop consuming what was likely another sentient being. The limp corpse shivered several times before going limp, spinal column exposed where meat and skin once covered.

Fight over, the rational part of me started to assert itself, in the form of mental screams of despair and outrage at what I had just done. I let the corpse fall from my grasp, splashing into the shallow water, spreading green blood into the already green-tinted water.

Facing the evil one is capable of is never an easy feat, especially if the worst thing you’ve ever done was kick a hissing cat, and what could no doubt be considered murder was first and foremost in my thoughts. That is, until a mug of what appeared to be blue alcohol was shoved into my shaking hands. I turned to face the uproarious applause I was only now noticing, mind numb from fading adrenaline and the beginning of an existential crisis. Three grinning trolls took turns slapping me on the back, and motioning for me to drink. As susceptible to peer pressure as I normally was, it took little prompting to get me to drink. I quaffed what tasted like sweet, flat beer, letting the third beer of my life flow down my parched throat.

“Dat wuz sum good krumpin’ dat wuz! I’z be likin’ you, new Ork boy!” said the troll with the largest cleaver as he slapped my back. He spat on the corpse, and gave it what I took to be a rude gesture. I wiped the foam from my lips, and stared down at the still, lifeless body, doing my best not to think about what I had just done, or what hell I’d found myself in. It was only then that the words sunk in. Ork. He had called me an ork. I took another long, careful look at the body of the slain, and a few memories started to fit together. Mushrooms, tiny goblins and big trolls, and terrible accents. Oh dear lord, how could this happen to me?! Somehow, I’d been reborn as a Warhammer Ork, and judging from the gettup of my new companions -rough biker leathers, massive machine pistols at their sides, and one even had an aviator’s cap-, it was the 40k setting, one of the most horrid, dystopian fantasies to ever plague the nightmares of man. Drumming up what I could remember, plus some very bad adlib based on the rough, near incomprehensible accent the Ork had, I did my best to give what I hoped was a proper response, taking time to enunciate as best I could.

“Weren’t nothin'. Teach that thief to keep his fingers off me food, I did!” I spat on the corpse for good measure, and tried to mimic the rude gesture. The attempt was wretched, which drew even more laughter, this time at my expense. “You’z a’right in dah ‘ead? You sound like Bustah Gutz, speakin’ all funny an’ slow. I like dat just fine, I do. Come on, ladz, Captain Munchah be wantin' to see dah new Boyz. Himz be proper riled up 'bout dem Storm Boyz again. He gonna be wantin’ a biggah raid dis time. We’z in for a real treat, we are.” This got a few cheers from a series of Orks that were just now arriving, a dozen newborn Orks in tow, and before I finished translating the accent, I was squished between two Orks and off we went, entering the bowels of what I would eventually learn was a massive Rok on a collision course for a certain planet that went by the name Armageddon.