After Fay died...

No. Let me rephrase it more accurately.

After Fay was murdered, my entire life changed. It was more than just her physical absence. It was the fact that our time together was stolen, and there was no getting it back. If you've never seen the love of your life die, it's hard for you to know how I felt. How I still feel to this day.

But I'll try to explain it to you.

It was like the air had suddenly gotten thinner. The world lost its color, and every attempt to smile or laugh was replaced by the sight of her lying in the street. I could still smell the coppery tang of the puddle of blood, and the stink of rot because her stomach had been ripped open.

It was like my heart had gone numb to happiness. Most of the time, I either felt nothing at all or seething rage. In the past ten years, that rage had developed a voice which spoke of revenge, blood, and hatred. And that voice, that demon, perked its ears now.

Fay has gone to the far shore, it said, and she took your humanity with her. Only in death will you be reunited.

And I wasn't allowed to die. Trust me, I had tried. And now I was paying for it.

People think bounty hunters are born with this innate talent for killing and fighting. In Fay's case, that was true. She was born a fighter. She seemed to master any weapon she picked up. She was calm, confident, intelligent, and strong.

But not me. I had to train, and Stone was happy to oblige.

I fought, got my ass beaten, bled, and had gotten my ass beaten some more. Shooting had come easy enough, but that only a fraction of it. I learned how to take a pistol apart, swing a sword, and fight in my own style. Stone put me through drills that made some tortures look like a vacation. It was bitter, grueling, and painful work.

But the results were well worth it.

"I'm not going to wait all Gods damned night," I said to the gloom. Someone or something still watched me from the shadows. I kept my back close to the door, the shifting sawdust the only sound in the barn. I kept scanning the space, looking for some sort of movement. I felt eyes on me, but whoever it was didn't attack.

"Come on," I said, looking into yet another shadow, "The first move is yours."

I stood tall, and widened my legs in a defensive stance, my weight in the balls of my feet. I held my pistols aloft and laced my fingers in the triggers.

Here we are again, Rowena, an all-too-familiar voice whispered across my mind. I felt myself hiss in disgust, but kept my focus as I replied to the demon inside me.

There's only enough room for one voice in my head. Now find a chasm and jump in it, I growled inwardly.

I turned as footsteps echoed in the space to my right. I was a hair too late with my pistols as a towering figure struck my arm. My aim was knocked aside just as I pulled the trigger. Wood splinted apart in the wall as I felt a fist connect with my side. I turned with the momentum of the blow instead of resisting, sinking to my haunches and throwing my leg out in a low blow at the ankles of my attacker. The figure jumped fluidly to avoid the hit, and my leg swung below them harmlessly.

They let out a low grunt as they did, the voice a clear tenor.

You're a man. Good to know, I thought wryly through the pain. His fist had only grazed me, but it felt like I was hit with a sledgehammer. I could already feel my body hurrying to heal. In a moment, the pain would be gone.

I finished my low spin and brought my other pistol up. I took aim for another shot, but the second before I did, the man stepped to the side to dodge.

Redirecting my attack, I leveled my weight on my hands and kicked up between his legs. I only succeeded in ruffling the edge of the cloak.

Ashling's asshole, I'm getting tired of this.

I rolled back onto my neck, and kicked back into a standing position. The man had already retreated back into the shadows, his cloak whispering past a barrel. I aimed at it a breath later, but suddenly the man upended it. It went flying toward me. I dove out of the way, rolling with the landing and finished in a crouch. On instinct I fired first one, then two shots. My body moved before my mind caught up. It was the muscle memory built from countless repetitions of drills.

A male grunt of pain was my reward.

That same instinct told me to stay low, so I dove behind a decaying wagon and eyed my target between the spokes of the wheels.

All went silent except for both his and my ragged breathing. My heart hammered in my ears as my lungs burned from the exertion. How was one man proving to be more difficult than a band of bandits? What was wrong with me?

I heard him take a long and heavy breath. Then I saw him stand. I went to shoot, but then hesitated.

The aura surrounding him had changed. I noticed a prickling sensation in the air, and my hair stood on end. Something besides the demon pressed on my mind, but I couldn't place what it was. I saw nothing in the shadow of his hood as it looked around the barn.

"What now? Are you ready for round two?" I asked breathlessly. The hood snapped in my direction, and I saw him shift to face me more fully.

With no warning, he began to run at me like a bull.

I could have gone for the head. I should have, but that blackness was thundering through me. The demon wanted me to kill him. Honestly, it would have been easy to do so with the idiot charging straight toward me. I lifted my aim to the hood in response to the thought.

Do it.

No. You're not getting control again.

Redirecting my aim, I fired at the man's shoulder. The bullet met it's mark and he stumbled, a hand going to the floor before he straightened again.

He kept coming. In fact, he seemed faster now, and I realized just how tall he was. His momentum built as he batted a support beam aside like it weighed nothing. The wood shattered with a loud crack, splinters going everywhere.

I felt my eyes widen as I took aim again. This time I hit his right kneecap. I saw the spray of blood and bone as I aimed my other pistol. His left kneecap exploded as well, but I didn't have time to congratulate myself.

Because he still kept coming. It was like it didn't even matter. He even laughed as I began to scramble backwards, holstering my pistols. I climbed up the large pile of moldy hay and reached for the crossbeam of the stall. There was no option but to run. I had no advantage in these close quarters with that thing raging like this. I had to get higher and out of his reach.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

The cart I was hiding behind was thrown to the side as if it were a toy. It crashed into another support beam, and the entire barn swayed with the impact. The rafters and wall groaned and began to crack. Somehow I had shifted to the back of the barn. The cloaked man was between me and the door. I only had one option before me.

The window. But I was going to have to climb to it and jump out before the man tore the barn apart.

The hay I had climbed was about fifteen feet tall, and I jumped toward the rafters, my legs burning with the effort. Somehow, my hand clasped over the lowest crossbeam and my heart leapt gratefully.

I yelped as a huge hand closed around my ankle. My leg nearly popped out of the socket as he yanked me down. The barn blurred as I was whirled around. He threw me past the hay to the hardened earth floor. Something in my knee popped as he did, and there was no time to brace.

I hit the floor with a loud thud.

The air was forced from my lungs as he lifted me up only to slam me back down with my back flat. My ribs cracked as my back took the brunt of the impact. I felt the shearing agony as a shard of bone went into my lungs. I gasped, and blood trickled out of the corner of my mouth. Every breath tasted like copper as I lifted my head and my stomach dropped. My foot was pointing the wrong way, and my knee was bent a good ways backward.

So much trouble. And for what? So you can try to hold some shred of humanity? the demon whispered.

"Shove...off..." I replied as I gagged on more blood. It took me a moment to realized I had spoken aloud. But I felt the demon now. It paced in its cage as it continued to speak from the forgotten pit of my soul.

After so much time of being such a good little girl, you have another chance, it said. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore it, but it pressed forward in my mind.

Will you stay your hand for this one? You used to love punishing the guilty. Come on! We'll do it together. For old time's sake! Or do you want our goddess to punish you again?

I tried to move, but I was still stunned. It felt like my limbs had been replaced with lead. I could barely make a fist.

The man dusted himself off. He settled his cloak and hood more neatly before looking my way again. He seemed to be taking his time. Like a cat that had broken a bird's wings, he knew I had no ability to run.

I looked around, desperate for my body to heal faster. Even now, I felt the section of my rib slowly moving back into place. My lung repaired itself and the pain dulled. My eyes drifted to the dull light coming through the high window.

That was the moment I realized it had started to snow. Some of the beautiful flakes were drifting in through the window.

A black cloak crowded my vision. He stood above me for moment, before he reached his hand toward my neck.

I realized my leg was still pointing the wrong way, and several of my ribs were still broken. I wasn't going to heal in time, and this man was going to rip me apart. He didn't know he wasn't capable of killing me. Nothing was. I would heal after being at the brink of death. And my debt to the Goddess would grow yet again.

Sorry Fay, I thought.

You'll just have to wait a little longer.

And that was the moment the demon stepped out of her cage.

It was like someone had injected ice into every vein of my body. The darkness within me spread to match the darkness surrounding me. The man's hand was a hair's breath from my neck as my hand shot out. My fingers pierced his wrist like a knife. He recoiled from the sudden blow and tried to hit me again.

But my body was no longer there.

In the moment of his recoil, I twisted to get my good foot back beneath me. I jumped the twenty feet into the rafters and landed like a cat. The barn swayed again with my sudden weight, but by some miracle, it held together. I balanced on my good leg, looking down at him. He looked around for a moment before finally finding me. I heard him grunt in frustration. Then it changed to one of disgust.

My leg and ankle made a loud crack as the flesh became whole again. The pain along my ribs and back stopped almost immediately. I looked down at him and began to laugh. My voice sounded harsh. Cold. Almost nothing like me.

Wisely, the cloaked man retreated a step. For some reason, this made me laugh harder as I slowly drew my pistols again.

"You know what? I'm actually grateful to you," I said in a voice like ice on stone. I jumped from the rafters, landing silently on the earth. He stood still as I strode toward him. Gods this felt so good. Why had I wanted to hold this back? What were these pitiful beings to me? They were nothing but fodder between me and the afterlife.

All cultures had their own version of heaven. Luradia called it "The Far Shore." In all honestly, that term was my favorite, because I knew my way to the afterlife was only through an ocean of blood.

I tilted my head back, tasting the air. There were so many souls nearby. All of them were twisted with greed and crime. None of them deserved this world. I already knew how I would start. I would go to the jailhouse and kill them all. No trial. No bail. They all would die, and anyone who stood in my way was nothing more than collateral damage. Petty mortal morality was nothing to me.

And every breath I drew in this world was yet another breath away from her.

Cracking my neck and knuckles, I looked back at the man.

"Thank you, Good Sir, for setting me free after all this time. Please know your death is not for nothing," I said, smiling up into the hood. I then lifted my eyes to the snowfall through the window, even as the man reached for my neck again.

The snowflakes stopped in midair.

I looked back to the man. He stood frozen in his attack. His cloak was fanned behind him, and his muscular arm was extended toward me. His face was still hidden in shadow, but I knew it was twisted in a scowl. His hand was less than an inch from my skin, but it might as well as been a mile.

Time had stopped. I laughed into the absolute silence and stillness.

Oh yes, I was back. I was back and better than before. Suddenly, my debt didn't seem so daunting. I looked back to the man who stood motionless as a statue. Part of me wanted to pull the cloak back, but why did I care? He was going to die right now anyway. Shrugging, I pulled out my pistols and placed both under his chin.

"Farewell," I whispered and pulled the triggers. The pistols worked normally, but the moment the bullets touched his skin, they froze. I stepped back into his outstretched hands for fun.

Then, I allowed time to speed back up. The top of the man's head blew off beneath the hood. I smiled as gore splattered all over my face. His body slumped, and then fell forward. I let him fall facedown into the dirt.

Well, I suppose you couldn't call him face down anymore. Could you still be facedown if you didn't have a face? Maybe belly-down was better.

The blood was thick and sticky, so I walked to the nearby stream. The darkness mercifully numbed me to the cold. The Silkendale has several streams in the plains which watered the crops. This was one of the larger ones, which was why I had chosen to build our house here. I stooped, and washed his blood from my face and tried to get some off my clothes.

After a few minutes, I returned to the barn to search the body. I sang a small tune under my breath as I walked. It was a grim lullaby about the War of Ages. The war between humanity and the Elemancers.

Is that your blood, Little One?

Is that your blood in the water?

Do some blood get in the river?

Or is the river made of blood?

I rounded the corner into the barn as I finished the lullaby, already thinking of saddling Dusk this very night. The jailhouse awaited, and I would kill them all. I looked into the gloom for the body. Finally, I spotted the spray of blood from his head and followed it to the source.

But the body was gone.

I only had enough time to see the absent corpse before I heard a shifting behind me. An arm as hard as granite went around my neck. I tried to buck, but the grip was firm under my chin. Another hand snaked its way to the lower part of my neck as I struggled. I drove an elbow into the man's blood-sodden cloak, but it did nothing.

I couldn't stop the hand that went to where my Marks burned on my skin. A single one of his fingers touched one of the scorching Marks, pressing so hard I was sure I would bruise. I closed my eyes and prepared to stop time again.

I heard a whisper, and had the sense of falling into a dream of deep sleep. I opened my eyes, and gasped at what I saw.

The forgotten barn was gone. Instead, I was in a room out thousands of floating bookcases in a misty void. The man was gone as well.

I wasn't in my bounty hunter clothing anymore. Instead, I stood in a gray robe, my hair falling down my back.

As I looked around, I saw the gray went on seemingly forever. I felt my heart quicken as I pivoted around and around, looking for the man. Now that I could see more clearly, I recognized this realm. Somehow we had been transported here.

I had only been here a few times. It was where I had made the worst decision of my life.

It was the place where all Deified met to negotiate with the Gods in hopes of getting a better future. It was also the place where the Gods cheated them.

This was not heaven, but it wasn't hell either. It was the ethereal realm in between. The meeting place of the living and the dead. The place for Gods and mortals alike.

Purgatory.

"Fuck."