2. Chapter 1

Purgatory

There was a brief moment when I could hear my brother calling for me. I heard his voice, and I tried to get back to him, but the moment my body healed and I landed in Purgatory, his pleas stopped. And so did most of the pain. Finally.

I'm not sure how long it has been since I heard him but Purgatory has become a place of comfort and rage. It's become home. I'm not sure if I want to go back to the coven. I didn't belong there, even if I do crave their presence.

Here, I'm able to release every ounce of anger I've had inside me. Here, I can fight without consequence. Here, I can be myself.

Twisting my neck from left to right, it pops loudly, causing me to groan in relief when that one spot finally gives. I drop the rock in my right hand and my weapon in my left, massaging the nook of my shoulder.

Carrying Uri around on my back is really starting to irritate me. Life would be a little more convenient if I were at home, and then Luna could give me one of her massages.

I could be with my brother, his wife, his kids…

"But I'm not, am I?" I whisper to myself, bending down to pick up Uri, my weapon that I made after spending my first night in this void of a place.

I pick up the rock again, laying Uri over my thighs, and begin sharpening the giant mandible.

Coming to Purgatory, it's kill or be killed, and if there is one thing I know I am good at, it's taking a life. I did it for fifteen years under a curse, and I remember every slash of my claws, every drop of blood on my tongue, and every scream.

My brother was eaten alive with guilt, and that is where we are different. I do not feel guilty, but it did harden me to a life I can't escape from.

I'm a fighter. I always have been.

I always will be.

My mind wanders as I drag the stone across the massive jawline of the creature I killed the first night in Purgatory.

Night One

"Anwyll?" I shout in the abyss, spinning and turning to see if anyone is there.

If anything is there.

"Aziel? Aziel!" Anwyll's voice is far away. It echoes.

"I'm here!" I yell to him. "Anwyll, I'm right here!" My eyes search the darkness, but no one is there. Only the skinny fingers of naked branches from the trees. "I'm here," I whisper, the words a frozen cloud on my next breath.

I still, a cold draft wrapping around me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, the brisk air traveling down my spine. I growl, calling onto my werewolf, I shift.

My entire body grows beyond my human skin. My flesh turns to a charcoal grey, hair sprouting on my arms, my clothes splintering from my body into piles of useless cloth on the ground, and I roar by tossing my head back.

I'm at least ten feet tall in this form, larger than most werewolves, and I have no idea why. My biceps bulge, my giant elongated feet plant against the ground, my heels in the air, and my pointed ears flicker when I hear the quietest of sounds.

A twig snapping. Nothing important.

Usually.

My eyes sharpen, sweeping the darkest shadows of the forest. A chitter echoes around me, the debris on the ground rustling. Slowly, I follow the shape disappearing behind the trees. I drop my chin, snarling loudly in warning.

The fear of the unknown is gone and replaced by the bloodthirsty beast I was born to be. If I'm honest, killing is easy, killing comes naturally, and there are days when I crave the warm liquid of blood dripping from my claws.

I've had barely controlled rage living inside me since I was a young werewolf. A low thunderous rumble is continuous in my core. The air changes into something thick and heavy making me work harder to breathe. It's as if all the air is being sucked from around me, forcing me to struggle.

I gasp, one of my clawed hands lying flat against my chest, feeling the wild beat of my heart in panic. My vision begins to blur, my peripheral darkening more with every passing second.

The chittering becomes louder above my wheezing, above the blood rushing through my ears, above the burning in my lungs as they fight for air.

Something cold wraps around my neck, gripping with vigor, with the promise to kill me. Gasping again, I inhale deeply, squeezing my eyes shut before opening them again.

What I see has my gaze widening. My entire body freezes in shock. The creature is double the size of me. It reeks of rotten flesh, its skin only made up of other beasts. Looking closely, the hide is stitched together with hair. The vision of him disappears just when I think I'm about to pass out, but I inhale again, allowing myself to see him.

It has no face, just a giant skull with oversized black eyes. The jaws are giant, and from what I can see, they have no teeth, just the sharpened inside edges of the mandibles. The bone is stained red from its past victories.

It chitters again, the sound reverberating loudly off the trees.

And I can't help but chuckle.

I snag its wrist in my hand, the need to kill flowing more strongly in my veins than my blood.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me." I rip its hand away; the stitched meat falls from its arm in a disgusting plop to the ground. I try to break the bone, but even with all my strength, it won't crack.

The creature releases a high-pitched scream and I dive to the right, barely dodging its boney fingers as it slices its hand through the air. The ability to breathe is still difficult, so I try to run to gain some space so I can finally get some clarity.

It screeches again, the leaves and brush rustling as it chases after me. I'm able to get far enough to inhale a deep breath, finally able to string a thought together. The ground shakes with the creatures' every step. The air gets tighter as it catches up with me. I glance over my shoulder to see it reaching its boney hand out, the tips of its fingers grazing my back.

The pain is unlike anything I've ever felt. My skin slices open like butter, the warmth of blood dripping down my spine. I roar, the simple gouges burn like wildfire. Every motion of my muscles causes more pain.

I drop to all fours, gaining speed as I sprint through the forest. The ground is wet, the mud trying to grip my hands and feet to slow me down. I leap over a fallen tree, the branches grazing my underbelly.

The air becomes heavy again, the oxygen being ripped away from me, and I stumble. Knowing I'm going to lose my footing and fall, I suck in the deepest breath I can before smacking against the ground. My shoulder hits first, taking the majority of my weight, and I do my best to hold my breath in, but naturally my mouth parts in a grunt.

I slide through the mud, my fur covered. The creature flips me onto my back, its inhumane jaws spreading, inhaling the air from around me. I choke, gasping for any trace of oxygen remaining.

Its breath makes my stomach turn, bits of flesh flying from its mouth as it screeches, my ears ringing from the high-pitched noise. My vision blurs. My strength dwindles.

The creature comes closer, hovering just above my mouth, and I feel the air in my lungs being sucked out.

Remembering I've been through too much to die like this, I use the last bit of strength I have and shove my hand through its chest. Bones in my hand break punching through the sternum, but regardless of the pain, I can't stop.

If I do, I die.

My growl morphs into a painful roar, wrapping my hand around its heart. With a snarl, I yank it free. The screeching slowly stops. The luxury of being able to breathe returns and I suck in a breath, getting the creature's rancid blood into my mouth.

"I told you it would take more than that, motherfucker." I squeeze the heart, the rotted grey organ oozes black goop that burns my skin.

I toss the organ to the right, wiping my hand in the mud just as the creature falls on me, blood pouring from the hole in its chest lands on my own. Howling in agony as my skin begins to burn, I shove the disgusting beast off me.

I lie there for a minute, sucking in the air this damn thing tried to take from me. Swallowing through the pain, I focus on breathing, taking long deep breaths to feed my oxygen-starved lungs. I lift my mangled hand; my pinky is bent to the left while my index finger is touching the top of my hand. Burns taint my wrist and forearm, the skin charred and raw.

I swallow thickly, thirst kicking into high gear. I don't even know where I am, so how am I supposed to find water?

"Okay, okay, you can do this," I chant to myself, gripping my broken index finger. "Fuck!" I shout, taking a deep breath in, I snap it in place, roaring from the pain of fixing an un-natural break. Before I can talk myself out of it, I do the same to my pinky finger, watching as my healing abilities kick in.

I let out a relieved breath, the bones, joints, and knuckles fusing again. My skin becomes flawless again, the burns gone as if they never happened.

But they did.

I flex my hand to make sure I have the same mobility as I did before.

"Fuck," I groan, having to work harder than usual to sit up from the mud.

When I do, I rub my neck and glance down at the creature I just killed somehow because what the actual fuck was that, and where the actual fuck am I?

I stand and shake my fur, mud slings from me and smacks against the trees. Shoving the creature with my foot, I flip him to his back and the flesh falls from his bones, showing nothing but his skeleton.

"What the hell are you?" I whisper, staring into the void of black eyes.

"That creature is called a suffogrim."

I spin, claws out, fangs bared as someone steps just a few feet away from me. A doomed-filled growl is a beast beating in my chest.

He lifts his hands. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you."

"Help me? I'm in a fucking nightmare. Where the fuck am I? What is a Suffogrim? And who are you?" I narrow my eyes at him as he steps closer. He seems familiar. "Do I know you?"

"Briefly." He dips his hands in his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. "Want one?"

I stare at him in disbelief. "Do I want a fucking cigarette? Are you joking? I just had acidic blood burn me and you're asking if I want a cigarette."

"Well, it sounds like you need one. For the love of wolfsbane, man, you are nothing like Anwyll."

I snarl again, taking my battle stance. I cock my head. "How do you know my brother? Keep his fucking name out of your mouth. You don't know a thing about him." My understanding and my ability to think vanish. I launch myself at the stranger, needing to kill someone else.

Wings burst from his back and he easily dodges me. I slide through the mud and nearly hit a tree when I come to a stop. I turn around, the stranger gone in one instant then nose to nose with me in the next. With one hand, he snaps his fingers, and I am slammed against a tree trunk.

I snarl, doing my best to fight the invisible hold he has on me. Parts of him are stitched together, certain areas of his body are his beast while half his face is human. It's as if someone sewed people together to create him.

"You better calm down, Aziel, or Purgatory will be your death sentence." He strikes his finger against the tree and the tip catches fire.

He tucks a cigarette between his lips, lighting it. "Now that we have that out of the way and you're…" he hums thinking of the word, "settled. I can talk and you can listen, so if I were you, I'd fucking cool your temper. You're in my territory now, where I thrive, and pissing off one of The Horsemen will kill you in the end. Be careful of your next words. Understand me?"

"Kill me, then," I urge him. "You think I'm afraid of death? I'm not. I've faced it and lived through it too many times to count, so do your worst."

The stranger's eyes come to life, flames overcoming his irises. "You should be afraid of me because I am Death. I have been the one to bring you to the edge and back. I have been the one to dangle the hope of dying to the curse of life. So you better listen to me, because if you don't, you will die."

I struggle against the tree, wanting to tear his head from his neck. "Why do you want to help me? You don't know me." I stop fighting against the sheer grip he has on me. There is no use. Whatever magic he holds, I'm not stronger than the power it brings.

He cocks his head, his pointed ears flicker, and his black hair sways in the breeze wafting the putrid scent of my dead friend over there.

"We've… met briefly but you were in a maddened state, if you remember. You might not considering your circumstances."

"My what?" I ask, confused, looking around to see nothing but darkness and dirt. "Where is Anwyll? Is he okay? Is he safe?"

"He is fine. It's you who isn't safe, Aziel. I'm Death, one of the Four Horsemen. This is my home when I can be here, and right now, I'm here to help you. Are you finally willing to listen to me?"

"Death…" I search my mind for him but I remember nothing. Regardless, I nod, yet I stay in my werewolf form.

The invisible hold he has on me fades and I'm freed. Tripping over the tree root, I right myself and put some distance between me and a man who could kill me with a wish.

"I'm in Purgatory?" I question him, glancing around my new prison.

"I'm afraid so." His footsteps thud against the ground before I find him next to me.

So much for that space I wanted.

Smoke fills the air as he drags on his cigarette. I usually hate the smell, but that Suffogrim reeks.

"Do you remember getting treatment for the sickness?"

I nod. "I do. I said horrible things to Anwyll, things I wouldn't want him to forgive me for. It's hard to forget my behavior." I give him a sad, forced smile.

"The medicine saved you, in a sense. Your physical body is there, at the estate, but your soul is here. You aren't dead but you aren't alive either, and because you're paranormal, you were brought here. Purgatory is a place filled with the worst of the worst. Some aren't bad, but this place changes all the time. It uses your deepest desires against you. It can make you believe you're seeing what you want when truly, you aren't seeing it at all. It's kill or be killed here."

"How do I get back to my body?"

"You have to find it yourself. You have to understand, there's only one way out of here, and that's only if you find an avisseus. Only they can cut the fabric of time and space to create a portal to send you home. They are born here, but they aren't easily seen. I haven't seen one in a few years."

"Years? How much time do I have?"

"You need to get to your body before the Lunar Moon. A Witch's Moon, when they can draw the most power from it. You know it as the full moon on Halloween. They only happen once every fifteen years. Purgatory receives all the blood of those who have died over those fifteen years. When the moon here turns red. The sky will rain blood for three straight minutes, bringing out the worst creatures. If you don't get out, before then, your soul will be stuck here. It's a power shift in the universe."

"And when is the next one?" Caution ripples through my voice.

"Three months."

"Three months? Three fucking months!" I shout at him. "How am I supposed to find this avisseus in that amount of time? In a place that changes and tricks my mind, that's not enough time."

"I can't interfere too much with your journey. I have to be careful, but I can give advice. Search for a place called The Graveyard, say Death sent you. Every win, you get a clue of where an avisseus is. I recommend taking the bone of the Suffogrim as a weapon. They are hard to destroy."

"It would help to know what those creatures are." I rub my eyes, wondering when Fate will finally give me a fucking break and let me die. "Three months until the Lunar Moon. I'm in Purgatory. I have to somehow survive this and—" Something in the wind has me sniffing the air. I know that smell.

Where do I know that smell? It reminds me of—

"The creature you killed— Aziel— you with me?"

I snap out of it, my nose still tingling from the scent. "Yeah, what are they?"

"The creature you killed is called a Suffogrim. They suffocate you by sucking all the oxygen from their surroundings. They are part grim reaper, so once you die and they get to take your last breath, they steal your soul. I say steal because they aren't my voids. Only my voids are given permission to handle souls to and from."

"What do they do with the souls?"

"Bet them, trade them, fuck them, whatever they want."

"And an avisseus? What do they look like?"

"A big skeletal bird with a giant silver beak. Many try to hunt it to grab the beak as there are rumors that the beak can open the portal back to where you need to be." He shrugs, flicking his cigarette. "I don't know if that's true or not."

"But you're Death. This is your home. I'm assuming you created all these creatures?"

He eyes me with humor before blowing out another cloud of smoke. "No, this was the place that I was given to rule. Everything is brought or born and somehow raised here. Avisseus's are rare. It's your best bet to get back to your body and don't forget The Graveyard. The dragon who runs it seems to have all the information." He flicks his cigarette away before stepping on it with the tip of his boot. "If you want to live, you'll kill."

He gives me a smirk before vanishing, leaving me alone and lost in this place.

"Killing comes easy. Won't have to worry about that," I say to no one but myself.

"Oh and—"

Startled, I drop down, kicking my leg out to trip the person who decided to sneak up on me. Death lands flat on his back with a groan.

"You're quick. Christ, I'm too old for this shit. You can't do that."

"Popping in and out like that is bound to get you killed one day."

"I'm Death. I don't die. Well, it's hard to kill me."

Instead of carrying on a conversation, I squat next to the Suffogrim, curling my lip in disgust at how horrible it smells.

"I'm glad you don't smell like death," I mumble, ripping the femur bone away from his body.

He scoffs. "Even I have standards."

With a grunt, I twist the creature's skull off. The skull is heavy, and I twist it in the air to get a good look at it.

The first thing I notice is how the blood no longer burns my skin.

"He's dead. His blood is no longer acidic."

I stare into the large, empty eye sockets, wondering how this thing has sight. Analyzing his remains, he has no teeth, but the mandible is sharp. I hiss when I slide my finger across the edge, my skin slicing open like butter. It heals in the next second, but my eyebrow quirks as an idea runs through my head.

I tilt my head up to speak to Death, "What did you come back for?"

"I wanted to warn you again. Be careful. This place fucks with your mind. It knows your innermost desires to use against you. Question everything, Aziel."

I nod in understanding. "Thank you for letting me know."

Death straightens as if he hears something calling him. "I need to go. Good luck, Aziel."

He is gone in a cloud of black smoke, once again leaving me alone. I don't mind being alone, but I am lonely. I've never been the kind of werewolf who didn't crave the company of someone else. Like now, the alpha inside me wants its pack.

Wants the coven.

Wants to be near his brother.

His family.

And I will do everything I can to get back, but if I don't, I know I'll be okay here. Killing is something I'm great at and if that's something I have to do for eternity here, I will. I've been a bloodthirsty beast once and I don't mind needing to be one again.

I search for anything I can use to tie the skull and femur together. The trees are all different. So many different kinds. Some are dead, black, with bare branches that resemble bones. Staring at them closely, they move, curling and stretching like fingers.

Other trees seem normal with full green leaves that are probably deceiving. I bet if I ate one, I'd die because, well, Purgatory.

"Cedar," I whisper when I see the tall trunk. I rush over, using the mandible to cut long strips off. When I think I have enough, I sit down, lacing the ropes of strong fibers through the eye sockets, wrapping the natural strings around the femur until it's nice and tight.

I stand, testing the weight of my new weapon in my hand, then swing it against the trunk of the tree to see if the femur and skull stay intact.

They don't move. Grinning, I swing the weapon onto my shoulder, eyeing the darkness to see what my next move will be.

Presently—One week left to The Lunar Moon

I toss the stone I use in the leather pouch I made from a little nuisance of a creature called a Zowlyn. They seem small and innocent with a thick hide, but the little fuckers have large sharp fangs with red eyes and when they bite, their mouths triple in size and take a huge chunk of flesh from your body.

I sliced its head off with Uri, my weapon. It's short for Purgatory.

A hot, humid breeze drifts, and the scent of something amazing and wonderful teases my senses for the thousandth time. I try to put the delicious scent out of my head like Death said, knowing this place is fucking with what my heart wants and misses the most.

Elouise.

My beast whines inside me, wanting her, missing her to the point my chest tightens. Memories of us sneaking off to be alone together play like an old worn-out film in my head. She feels like a lifetime ago, moments that never happened.

Did she? Did I make her up in my head? Am I completely dead?

No. No, I'm not. She was real. My love for her was real— is real. Nothing will stop me from getting back to her. I'll find her.

That's my goal and if the attempt kills me, so be it, at least my soul will finally be at peace.

Fog rolls in, drifting through the eerie trees, and violence swells in my chest. The menacing fog curls around the branches, heading toward me slowly like a wave waiting to crash over me. Purgatory fog is much different than the kind in my dimension. Sometimes, the fog holds an electric charge or even the ability to burn you to death depending on if it's stormed recently.

Getting distance from it is hard, but doable. It tends to stick to the east side of Purgatory which means I try to get as far west as possible.

The rules of The Graveyard are simple. When the fog hits, the fights begin. Securing Uri over my shoulder in the sheath I made from Zowlyns, I drop to all fours in my werewolf form. It's quicker to run this way. The earlier I get to The Graveyard, the earlier I get to fight, and the more I win, the closer I get to getting out of here.

The part of me that loves the fight, that loves the kill, doesn't want to leave Purgatory. I fit in well here— too well.

And that's why I know I need to leave and get back to my body, even if I am torn. This place blackens the soul, poisoning it slowly until you have no choice but to stay. I fight the toxicity and it's the hardest fight of my life.

I leap over a fallen tree, grunting when I hit the ground. My claws sink into the ground, the dirt flicking behind me with every stride as I head to The Graveyard.

My air begins to turn from heavy and hard to breathe, to cold and thin. Every exhale leaves me in frozen clouds, frost inching its way up the whirling misshaped trunks of the trees. I can hear the crackling of ice as my surroundings begin to freeze. The leaves curl, the silence dangerous, and the chill seeps into my bones, trying to make its way into my soul.

A whoosh of air sounds from my left, and I slow to a stop, standing on my hind legs to my full height. I snarl, growling low in warning. I've made my name in this place and not many choose to fuck with me, but when they do, I make it worth their while by enjoying their pleas.

A vampire with red eyes comes out of nowhere, standing in front of me, hissing. His fangs are small, nothing compared to Master Monreaux's, proving how weak this vamp is.

My gaze quickly sweeps his body to analyze if he has any weapons. I'm not seeing any, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. Vampires have weapons of their own, the biggest ones are speed and strength. This one seems feral or rogue. His veins are ashen, traveling through his arms, neck, and face. His hair is patchy, showing balding spots on his scalp that are raw and oozing.

He must have been bitten by a spidorion. Half spider, half scorpion, and one hundred percent from Hell itself. These creatures are in for the hunt. They bite and their venom doesn't hit you right away. It's a slow build and the longer your heart beats, the more the venom spreads. Spidorions can smell the infected and slowly hunt them until their prey is paralyzed from head to toe. Then, they wrap their victims in a thick layer of webbing, stab their chests with their scorpion tails, and take their meals to their nest where they feast.

Sick, sadistic bastards.

I'll be doing this vampire a favor when I kill him, so he won't have to go through the pain and torture of the spidorions process.

The vampire slashes his extended grey talons at me. I lean back, missing his strike. He continues to come at me, grappling the air, throwing his hands one after the other in hopes of getting me.

If he does, I'll be as good as dead too, spidorions venom will enter my bloodstream. All I have to do is bide my time until he gets too tired from the venom.

I dodge right, then left, then duck, using the opportunity of being low and whip Uri from the sheath. I slash Uri through the air, slicing the vampire's legs at the knee.

His screams are loud and piercing. If I weren't tainted by so much death, I might have cared, but this poor vampire crawls on the ground to continue his attack on me.

With one final blow, I take his head off, his body falling with a hard thump against the ground. His head rolls a few feet away and the red in his irises fades as his existence ceases. His blood is black, killing the leaves on the ground from the venom in his bloodstream.

I wipe Uri on the ground, making sure his blood is off my weapon before sheathing it again. Looking around for spidorions, I begin to sprint away from the crime before they arrive.

The Graveyard calls my name.

Yet so does the breeze that holds the tantalizing scent of Elouise.