Dragon

XV

Purgatory. The state after physical death. The space between heaven and hell. The final purification. The final selection. The final decision on who may go to heaven and who will go to hell. It is where the souls are judged, where it is decided if their sins are worth excusing or worth damning one for. 

Beastein rewarded the damned and welcomed them into his higher realm; into his heaven. Those, however, who did not pass the test, the sinners, were sent to the bottom; into his hell. For the laborers, however, they remained in Purgatory, being forced to work until they dropped, day and night. Many of the laborers remained laborers, people like Drake and Lucy, who were given names, either became his right hand in heaven or became someone who worked behind the scenes, in hell. 

Drake worked in hell, by those furnaces for a long, long time. He welded and hammered and melted and burnt, he worked and worked, creating such unique and perfect inventions for Beastein, finally receiving some positivity with his rewards in his life. 

It angered him how much Beastein was playing God. How he would smite the weak. He'd starve the dog until it nearly dropped then feed it, so the dog would remain loyal. 

If only his parents never died, he wouldn't even be in this mess.

* * *

"What do you know?" Drake said, staring down at the tied up man that Lucy brought, the man staring at him with hate.

"Go back to hell, Dragon," he spat.

Drake had been going around in circles with this man and he could not, for the life of him, get any information from him. One thing was for certain, Drake was not good at interrogating.

"Either you tell me or, in a bout two minutes, the Devil is going to walk through that door and you'll be wishing it was only me asking the questions," Drake snapped.

The man faltered slightly, narrowing his eyes at Drake. Although he was apart of Purgatory, he knew of Frank; they all did. The story of the Devil was one that always floated around Purgatory, it was one of the men Beastein was amazed with but could not get his hands on. They knew of Frank's reputation but none of them had seen him in person.

"Trust me," Drake said. "He's a whole lot scarier in person. Those stories don't do him justice."

The man's face began to twist with another emotion and he looked at Drake worriedly. "W-wait--!"

However, that is when the door to the basement began to open and Frank emerged from the darkness, towering in the room and over the man. The man looked up at him, trembling slightly with his eyes completely wide. Frank moved slowly, pulling a chair up and sitting directly in front of him, his haunting mask right at his level and sending a horrific chill down his spine.

"This one's a fighter," Drake said, the man looking even more worried at this point. "Doesn't wanna say anything to us, at all. Been spouting a lot of vulgar things too."

By now, the man was trembling fully, his eyes wide and a sweat beading on his forehead. Frank turned and looked at the man, watching his eyes widen even further, if possible. "Speak."

The man opened his mouth but only a shaky breath came out and, for a moment, he only managed to open and close his mouth, his body unable to form a single word.

Frank slowly pulled out his switch blade and flipped it open quickly, the man flinching. He then proceeded to throw the knife into the ground and the man let out a whimper. Frank looked up at him once again. "Speak."

"Beastein has an army. He has even more men with names than ever before and as the days go on, the numbers continue to grow," the man finally blurted. "Highly skilled assassins, fighters, bikers, mercenaries, you name it."

"Where are they."

"I-I-I don't know. T-There main location is unknown to laborers like me, Beastein visits our location frequently but leaves before night falls."

"What is his goal."

"To slay the Dragon who escaped from hell."

"All of this just to kill Drake."

"The Dragon took his gold, as Dragon's do. Dragon's steal the gold from kings to make their nest. The Dragon took his home, his riches, and even took his sight and hearing on one side of his face. The Dragon is the only one who has ever taken anything from him and gotten away, Beastein will slay him and has devised this plan for a very long time."

"What is his plan."

"Slay the Dragon."

"What is his plan."

"Slay the Dragon," the man said, now beginning to laugh hysterically. "Slay the Dragon. Slay the Dragon. Slay the Dragon. Slay the Dragon. Slay the Dragon."

Drake's demons screamed so loud in his ears that he left the basement, running out of there as quickly as he could, the man's voice still echoing in his ears. 

"Slay the Dragon."

It was all just about him. All just about killing him. 

Frank, however, remained in the basement, watching the man closely as he continued to repeat the same line over and over again, his mouth beginning to foam. "Fuck," Frank snapped, standing to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. They hardly got any information out of that man. They got nothing new and still remained in the same spot as before.

"The spider is his..." the man said weakly, his mouth gurgling. 

Frank snapped his head towards the man, watching him closely.

"The spider..." the man continued, his voice getting lower and weaker. "...is still his."

Now that was new information.

Hello everyone!

I am SO sorry about the inconsistent updates, I have been having such a hard time finding inspiration and even motivation to write lately but, you know what, I think I finally got it back.

Who says writing is easy? 

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With care,
D. M. Brightwell