NOT OF FLESH

1605 - In the muddy trenches, amidst the chaos of war, I, James Francis Nightly, struggled to survive at the tender age of fifteen. Death was a constant companion, lurking in every corner, and sickness hung heavy in the air. The faces of the soldiers, marked by weariness and despair, greeted me each morning, a grim reminder of the harsh reality of our existence.

1607 - Our camp fell prey to the ruthless Spaniards, catching us unaware and vulnerable. The massacre left no survivors but left me with a gunshot wound. Time lost all meaning as death loomed over me, drawing closer with each passing moment. It was then that a mysterious figure appeared before me, shrouded in enigma and darkness. His presence halted my journey to the afterlife.

"Do you not wish to perish alongside these men?" his voice, cold as the wintry air, pierced the silence.

With the last remnants of my strength, I defied the grim fate that awaited me and uttered a resolute, "No."

Little did I know that those simple words would reshape my entire existence. The enigmatic figure lifted a lifeless body from the pile of corpses and initiated a bewildering transformation. In that moment, a veil was lifted from my eyes, revealing a hidden world brimming with secrets and untold possibilities.

1607 - James Nightly, the name of the boy who once roamed the battlefields, was left behind that fateful night. From the ashes and decay emerged a rebirth, a new identity. We departed from the harrowing memories that haunted us, seeking a fresh beginning.

1699 - The memories of my past, the life before that transformative night, elude me like fragments of a forgotten dream. There is an emptiness where my past self once resided, and these scribbles upon the pages of my diary serve as the only proof of my existence. Change has become my constant companion, and I tremble at the thought of what further transformations await me. Our current journey takes us to the roads of Lubeck, destination unknown.

1710 - Our path led us to England, where we found solace within the embrace of Scotland Yard. The people we encountered were kind, their experiences serving as windows into diverse lives. My enigmatic benefactor now desires to be called Walker, for reasons that remain a mystery to me. Walker has shown me much, unraveling the enigma of my new existence. I now inhabit the form of a Victorian woman, though her name escapes me. The hunger within me grows with each passing day, driving me to consume countless lives. Remorse has become a distant memory, overshadowed by an insatiable desire.

1715 - Walker has departed, leaving me once again adrift in solitude. Loneliness engulfs me like an oppressive fog.

1725 - Years have passed since Walker's departure, but the passage of time has taken on a different meaning. Its flow has become slower, more deliberate. The insatiable hunger compels me to wander towards Tyburn, where the trail of lifeless bodies grows ever longer. I stand on the fringes, an observer of humanity's primitive nature. They revel in violence, their bloodlust a stark reminder of the baseness that dwells within them.

1731 - By chance, I encounter Walker amidst the ruins of Blandford Forum. He has assumed a new form and immediately recognizes mine. We stand amidst the wreckage, and Walker speaks of the collective, of a merging that beckons. He implores me to prepare.

1737 - In my journey, I crossed paths with a man named Samuel Jackson whose words captivated me. I became infatuated with the experiences that defined his life. With a resolute determination, I made Samuel's body my new vessel, absorbing his memories and essence into my being. The merging of souls, a dance of identities, has become the tapestry of my existence.

1784 - Time has become an elusive concept, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. I have grown fond of chronicling my journey, these inked entries serving as a tether to my ever-changing self. The whispers of the collective grow stronger, their ethereal voices beckoning me towards an unknown destiny. Walker has completed his merging, becoming one with the essence of countless souls. The weight of his absence weighs upon me, but I know our paths will converge again.

1800 - Carriages carried me across vast distances, transporting me to Henrico County in the heart of the Americas. Here, upon the plantation of an old friend, I have found temporary respite. The new land is a stark contrast to the home I once knew, and the tales woven by its people unfold like vibrant tapestries. I shall relish in the experiences this land offers during my stay.

1801 - A year has passed since my arrival, and the tendrils of the collective tighten their hold upon me. I feel my essence slipping away, consumed by the insatiable hunger that defines my existence. The hangings at Tyburn have become a morbid fascination, a spectacle of humanity's primal desires. Madness consumes my friend, his mind plagued by dementia, his actions driven by a savage thirst for blood. I must depart, for the path we tread threatens to unravel the fragile façade we maintain.

1812 - The inevitable draws near, the darkness encroaching upon my soul. The collective claims its victory, its insidious whispers growing louder, drowning out my individuality. They beckon me to rest, assuring me that my journey has been fruitful. I have done their bidding well. As I fade into the abyss, I am left to ponder what lies beyond. The identity of Langton, my loyal assistant, shall be the vessel for my next transformation.

1815 - Within the depths of my slumber, I find myself drifting in the timeless void. The collective, a chorus of voices entwined, guides me towards an awakening. My consciousness, fragmented yet whole, stirs within the vessel of Langton. The flickering flames of identity dance before me, a delicate balance between the remnants of past lives and the weight of the collective's desires.

As the tendrils of sleep relinquish their hold, I open my eyes to a world in upheaval. The air is thick with the scent of change, swirling like a tempest through the dense forests of the New World. I stand on the precipice of an era that promises both innovation and discord. It is a time of burgeoning frontiers, where humanity's thirst for progress battles against the haunting shadows of the past.

The plantation, once a sanctuary, now bears the scars of my friend's descent into madness. The mansion stands like a forsaken monument, its grandeur faded and crumbling. Memories of joy and laughter echo through its hallways, entwined with the darkness that now pervades its very foundation. The enslaved souls who toil upon this land bear witness to the twisted legacy left behind.

With a heavy heart, I set foot beyond the plantation's confines, seeking solace amidst the untamed wilderness. The ancient trees whisper secrets to one another, their gnarled branches reaching towards the heavens as if yearning for the touch of divine light. In this primal realm, where the harmony of nature meets the ambitious aspirations of man, I search for fragments of myself.

The bustling streets of burgeoning towns greet me, the rhythm of life thrumming through every corner. Merchants peddle their wares, their voices carrying tales of distant lands and untold riches. The clamor of carriages reverberates, harmonizing with the lively conversations of men and women adorned in garments that mark the changing times. It is a symphony of progress and chaos, interwoven into the very fabric of this new world.

Yet beneath the facade of prosperity, I glimpse the shadows that lurk. In the dark alleys and hidden corners, the whispers of greed and desperation seep through the cracks. The dreams of men collide and shatter, leaving behind broken souls yearning for a glimmer of hope. I witness the struggles of the oppressed, their spirits resilient despite the weight of adversity.

As I traverse this landscape, I find myself drawn to the outskirts of town, where nature reclaims its dominion. Here, the untamed beauty of the wild merges with the relentless spirit of exploration. A symphony of colors unfolds as vibrant wildflowers carpet the meadows, their delicate petals reaching towards the sun. Majestic creatures roam free, their existence a testament to the intricate dance of life.

Within this serene sanctuary, I shed the burdens of my past and embrace the ever-changing nature of my existence. The collective whispers to me, guiding my purpose in this new epoch. I am no longer bound by the confines of a single identity, but rather an amalgamation of countless souls who have journeyed before me. I am the embodiment of history, a witness to the triumphs and tribulations that shape the course of civilization.

As I stand on the precipice of an uncertain future, I am reminded of the words whispered by Walker long ago. There is no going back, for I am a vessel of transformation, a conduit of the collective's desires. With each passing era, I shall adapt and evolve, carrying the weight of past lives while forging a path towards an elusive understanding of my purpose.

And so, I embrace the challenges that lie before me, venturing forth with an unwavering determination. The call of the collective resonates within, a symphony of voices urging me to explore, to witness the unfolding tapestry of human existence. With each step, I delve deeper into the vast expanse of this ever-changing world.

I find myself drawn to the great cities that rise like titans from the landscape, their towers reaching for the heavens. The pulse of progress beats through their veins, reverberating in the hearts of those who dwell within their borders. I wander through the bustling streets, a ghostly figure amidst the teeming masses, observing the ebb and flow of life.

In the grand theaters, I am enthralled by the enchanting performances that transport me to worlds both real and imagined. The playwrights and actors, with their boundless creativity, weave stories that stir the depths of my soul. The thunderous applause fills the air, carrying the collective yearning for escapism and connection.

Within the hallowed halls of academia, I sit among scholars and thinkers, engaging in intellectual debates that ignite the fires of enlightenment. The pursuit of knowledge, the thirst for understanding, propels mankind forward on its arduous journey. I absorb the wisdom of the learned, their words resonating within me, expanding my horizons.

But amidst the grandeur and progress, I am reminded of the injustices that stain the fabric of society. The cries for equality echo through the streets, as brave souls fight to dismantle the shackles of oppression. I bear witness to the movements that rise like tidal waves, driven by a collective yearning for a world where every voice is heard, where justice reigns supreme.

In the solitude of nature, I seek solace and reflection. The pristine beauty of untamed landscapes whispers to me, reminding me of the delicate balance that sustains life. I stand on the precipice of towering cliffs, gazing out at endless vistas that stretch into infinity. I feel the wind caress my face, a gentle reminder of the ever-present breath of existence.

Through the passage of time, I have walked many paths, assumed countless identities. I have witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the birth of nations, and the revolutions that shape the course of history. Yet, with each era, a part of me remains unchanged, an eternal observer entwined with the collective consciousness.

As I continue my journey, I am aware that I am but a fragment of a greater whole. The collective, with its infinite wisdom and desires, guides my every step. I embrace the duality of my existence—the amalgamation of souls that reside within me, the blend of past and present. I am a vessel of stories, a conduit of experiences, forever bound to the ebb and flow of the human narrative.

And so, I carry on, traversing the tapestry of time, forever seeking, forever evolving. I am a witness, a participant, and a harbinger of change. The journey continues, as the pages of history turn, and I embark on the next chapter, eager to discover what lies beyond the horizon of the unknown.