Donny closed his eyes before the crash, but felt nothing. No pain. No pressure.
When he opened them again, he was falling fast. Wind howled in his ears as he spun through darkness, limbs flailing.
Then he slammed into the ground.
But instead of solid ground, he crashed through a thick, slime-like substance. The gray sludge clung to his body as he struggled to swim upward. After a desperate fight through the muck, his hands finally found solid ground, and he pulled himself onto it, gasping.
He looked around, eyes scanning the surreal landscape.
"Where the hell am I?" he muttered.
A voice answered low, raspy, chilling.
"You are in a realm not of the living. All that you see here is purgatory."
Donny whipped his head around. "Who said that? Show yourself!"
A figure materialized from the gray mist, a black robe wrapped around a shadowed form, the only discernible features two bloodshot, piercing eyes.
Donny took a step back. "Wh… who are you?"
The figure turned its back on him, voice calm but final.
"I told you what you needed to know. You are no longer among the living. This… is purgatory."
Then it faded into the fog.
Donny stood there, staring into the distance. Slowly, he took in his surroundings.
The sky was cracked and pitch black, lit only by pale white particles drifting lazily through the air. Towering mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks obscured by swirling mist. Behind him stretched a massive swamp, much larger than he'd realized. Lucky he'd landed near the edge.
Then, an inhuman howl tore through the silence.
Donny spun toward the sound.
A monstrous beast emerged from the shadows. It resembled a wolf, but far larger. Its fur rippled with thick muscle, its crimson eyes locked on him. Fangs, each the size of his head, glistened beneath its snarling muzzle.
"Oh shit," Donny breathed. "It's coming straight for me."
He turned and sprinted toward the swamp, plunging into the gray muck.
The beast followed, leaping in behind him. One of its claws slashed past his head, narrowly missing. The growl it released was deafening, so loud it rattled in Donny's skull.
Panicking, he dove under the surface and swam blind, forcing himself to hold his breath. Every so often, he surfaced just long enough to gasp for air before plunging down again.
Stroke after stroke, he powered through the thick slime, praying the monster couldn't follow him all the way.
At last, his hands found firm ground again.
After swimming through the swamp, Donny finds a small camp. Three figures are there: two lying motionless by a smoldering fire, and one hunched over, sharpening what looks like a rusted dagger.
Cautious but desperate for answers, Donny climbs out of the swamp, slime trailing from his soaked clothes. He approaches the figure with careful steps.
"Uh, excuse me?" Donny asks, voice uncertain.
The man turns his head slowly. His face is gaunt, skin flaky like dried blood and burns, he's wearing a suit made of scabs. His long, matted brown hair hangs down his back. His eyes are glassy, lifeless, yet watching.
"And who are you supposed to be? A friend of those guys?" He jerks his chin toward the bodies near the fire. "Doesn't matter. They're dead. You will be too."
Donny's gaze shifts to the two figures. He hadn't looked closely before, but now he sees the truth: empty stares, mouths slightly agape, and a pool of dark, congealed blood soaking into the cracked gray dirt.
His chest tightens.
"No, I'm not with them! I don't even know where I am. Please, I don't wanna die! I I thought I already died! I got hit by a car, and now I'm here. What is this? Am I dreaming? What the hell is going on?!"
His words tumble out in a messy panic.
The man's grip tightens around the dagger. His face doesn't move, but something in his expression hardens.
"You're not dreaming, kid," he says flatly. "You're already dead. This ain't heaven, and it sure as shit ain't home. This is the in-between. Purgatory, Hell, whatever name helps you sleep."
He stands, and Donny instinctively steps back. The dagger hangs loose in the man's hand, but his presence is heavy.
"You've got two options here," the man says, walking slowly around the fire. "You can curl up and rot like them, or you can start moving. Things out here don't like the smell of fresh souls. You're bleeding life, you'll attract worse than me."
Donny swallows. His instincts scream at him to run, but there's nowhere to go. Still shivering, he finds the words.
"Why are you here then?"
The man stops, turning his head slightly as if amused by the question.
"Same reason you are. I was greedy. Took things that weren't mine. Lied. Killed. You do enough of that, and when you die, the ground doesn't want you, and the sky won't take you."
He turns fully toward Donny, his bloodshot eyes catching the flicker of the dying fire.
The man walked over to the corpses and knelt beside them. With calm precision, he carved open each of their chests. Donny watched in stunned silence as a thick, murky white mist like smoke with weight floated up from their wounds.
The man reached out and grabbed the wisps with his bare hand. They shimmered faintly, then twisted like worms in his grip before he stuffed them into a small leather pouch hanging from his belt.
"What… what the hell are you doing?" Donny asked, repulsed and fascinated all at once.
The man didn't look up. "Extracting souls."
Donny's face twisted. "Souls?"
"Down here, kid, souls are currency," the man said flatly. "And I'm the only one here willing to do the dirty work."
Something clicked in Donny's mind. Value. Even in death… people still chase value? That idea latched on like a tick in his brain. The thought escaped his lips before he could stop it.
"There's something people still value down here?"
The man glanced back at him with a smirk. "Of course. People love owning something others don't. And down here? In hell? Everyone wants a monopoly."
Donny felt a flicker of understanding. A small grin crept across his face.
"Well, thanks for the advice," Donny said, straightening up. "You're right, I should keep moving before the monsters show up."
He walked past the man, nodding. The man didn't follow, just went back to sharpening his dagger. Donny kept walking until the campfire faded behind him.
Once he was sure he was out of sight, he stopped and reached into his coat, revealing the soul pouch he had swiped during the exchange.
"Never been easier," he muttered with a smirk.
He crouched behind a twisted tree, opening the pouch carefully. The mist inside pulsed softly like fireflies trapped in fog.
"Time to find out exactly how much souls are worth… and what they can do."
Donny wandered for what felt like hours. The landscape never changed, just endless gray, cracked ground, and the occasional dead, twisted tree. In the distance, he would sometimes spot monsters, lurking shapes that ducked behind boulders or melted into shadow when he looked their way. He was starving, exhausted, and on the edge of collapse when he saw it, a towering black wall far off in the distance.
Driven by desperation, he broke into a run.
The closer he got, the more he realized this was no ordinary wall. It was part of a massive ruined castle. The outer walls were black, built from some kind of volcanic stone, and stretched around a tall central structure whose top half had been sheared off by something ancient and violent.
Weird, Donny thought, slowing as he approached the broken main gate. But better than wandering in circles.
He stepped inside.
Corpses littered the courtyard, half-rotted bodies of beast-like creatures with elongated limbs and jagged teeth. Some looked like they'd been killed recently. Donny crept forward, unnerved but drawn by the scent of something faintly sweet, something… human.
He entered the main building. Inside, the scene shifted dramatically.
The floor was clean. Shelves lined the walls, many toppled over, their books scattered across the ground. Strange tools, monster parts, gold coins, and unidentifiable materials were piled on a central metal table like an alchemist's workshop. A bizarre mix of science and sorcery.
"Hello?" Donny called out, his voice echoing. "Anyone here?"
He took another step forward, eyes flicking from the glittering gold to the jagged fang of a monstrous skull.
If no one's home… maybe I could
Before he finished the thought, something slammed into him like a freight train.
Donny crashed into a bookshelf, the wooden frame splintering around him as pain flared through his ribs and back. Dazed, he looked up and froze.
A young man stood over him.
He had dark purple hair that spilled past his shoulders, and scarlet-red eyes that glowed with disdain. He was Donny's height, but the presence he carried made him feel twice as tall. He wore fitted leather armor under a dark cloak that shimmered faintly with enchantment.
"Who the hell are you?" the stranger asked coldly, his voice calm but edged with irritation.
Donny winced, struggling to sit up. "I-I'm just wandering… I didn't mean to please, I don't want any trouble."
The man crouched down, his sharp eyes narrowing.
"Yeah? Then tell me your name."
"Donny… Donny Velmore," he said, breathing heavily.
A beat passed.
Then the young man's lips curved into a thin, dangerous smile.
"Donny, huh? Name's Catonin Qwell."
He extended a hand.
"Welcome to my castle."
"Now listen here, Donny Velmore," Catonin said, his voice firm but not unkind, "if you want access to my castle, my knowledge, my materials, you're gonna have to do something for me."
He extended his hand, and Donny took it. Catonin pulled him to his feet.
"And what do I have to do?" Donny asked, curiosity creeping into his voice.
Catonin grinned ear to ear. "All you gotta do is kill a certain monster for me… and bring me its soul."
Donny let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, uh… I don't know if I'm exactly built to fight monsters right now."
Catonin didn't let go of his hand.
Instead, he stepped a little closer, lowering his voice to a silky murmur. "Come on, I'll give you all the intel on the beast. Weaknesses. Habitat. Even a few pieces of gear to help you out. So… do we have a deal?"
Donny hesitated. I gotta think about this... He's offering access to the castle and everything in it for one soul. I'll have weapons, information, everything I need. But what if the monster's too strong? What if I die again, for real this time?
Then a stronger thought pushed through the doubt. No. Enough with caution above all else. It's time I take a risk.
He met Catonin's gaze.
"I'll do it," Donny said, a hint of real confidence in his voice.
Catonin grabbed Donny by the wrist and dragged him down a hallway, grinning mischievously.
"Whoa, hey! Where are we?"
Before Donny could finish, he was shoved into a room. Catonin shut the door behind him. Donny stumbled, caught himself, and waited. From the hallway, he could hear the sounds of things being thrown around, metal clanging, drawers slamming, and books hitting the floor.
Moments later, Catonin burst back in, tossing a set of light armor at Donny along with a simple steel dagger.
"Here's your gear!" he said, his grin even wider now.
He tossed Donny a small, tattered book. "Oh, and this. It's got everything you need to know about your target. Read it cover to cover if you wanna live. Better get going now, it's a ways out."
Before Donny could respond, he was shoved out the front doors.
He walked past the corpses in the courtyard, through the shattered gates, and out into the bleak wilderness. As he moved, he strapped the armor over his clothes, gripped the dagger, and cracked open the book, reading while walking.
From the Book:
Target: -grey dusk wolf -type-beast. soul class normal
Habitat: Nestled in a large cave system between the northern mountains.
Description: Wolf-like in appearance, approximately 25 feet in height. Despite its massive size, it possesses extreme speed and heightened senses. Violent, territorial, and known to hunt newcomers.
Note: Sightings suggest it often lurks near the swamp region…
Donny's stomach dropped. That was the thing that attacked me when I first got here.
He clenched the book tighter and kept walking.
After some time, voices drifted on the wind. He ducked behind a large boulder and peered over cautiously.
Two people sat around a fire, one man, one woman.
"Shit, I can't believe this is hell," the man muttered. "I thought it'd be worse. At least I'm not alone. Place is just… empty and lonely."
"I'm glad too," the woman replied. "Besides the monsters, it ain't so bad. Wait... what is that behind OH GOD, IT'S A MONST !"
Before the man could react, his body was torn apart, his head and torso shredded in a blur of claws and gore. Blood sprayed across the woman's face as she scrambled back, only to be impaled through the chest by a long, jagged arm.
The creature towered over the fire, featureless, shadowy, with multiple spindly limbs and no face, just a flickering, shapeless void.
Donny froze. He didn't breathe. Every heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out thought. A single bead of sweat slid down his face.
Eventually, the monster vanished into the darkness.
Only then did Donny dare to move.
Shaking, he rose and crept toward what remained of the bodies. He knelt by the woman's corpse, staring at her lifeless face, and whispered:
"I wonder what death even means down here…"