Purgatorys End

A storm lit the night sky. From his apartment high above the city, Sean stared out the window into the gloom, watching in detachment as the rain collected and ran in rivulets down the tinted glass. His room lay in darkness, the only illumination coming from the incessant lightning, casting countless shadows like imps dancing across the walls. Turning his back on the night sky Sean walked over to his unmade bed and sat heavily, running his hands through his thick hair.

Laying back into the disheveled sheets, he stared at the shadows playing across the ceiling trying to collect his thoughts. His memory was incomplete, that was the best way that he could describe it, his recollection only stretching as far back as yesterday. The puzzling fact was that he knew that his name was Sean and that he lived in this apartment yet he couldn’t recall ever moving in and his family, if he had one, was unknown to him. Pictures he had found in a draw seemed like postcards from another life, he recognized himself, but the other people in the photos were strangers.

The other changes he had noticed in himself were even more frightening and bizarre than the memory loss. In the pictures he had found his eyes were ice blue yet now when he saw his reflection they were a brilliant violet that seemed to gather the light and gleam. As his mind grappled with these improbable truths he absently began toying with a pewter mug gathered from the nightstand.
Glancing down, he froze, the crushed mug falling from his fingers. Staring down into his hands, Sean reached out and grasped the iron bed-head. With slight pressure, the metal bent and finally snapped. Rising to his feet he walked unsteadily toward the door, his mind in turmoil.

The street outside was empty, the rain beating a steady tattoo on the slick asphalt. Gathering his cloak about him Sean stepped out into the rain. Although the night was dark he found that he had no trouble seeing, in fact his eyes could pierce even the darkest ally. The giant buildings of glass and steel that reared up around him held a fascination that he could not describe, a part of him took these sights for granted yet still the sense of awe remained. As he walked he felt a strange sense of lightness in his step, as if by mere choice he might drift of the ground and float amidst the rain and lightning. Shaking his head at the strange thought he turned the corner into another street.

Throughout the night he wandered, eyes downcast, his feet finding their own path along the gleaming asphalt. A strange sense of detachment settled over Sean as he ghosted along the deserted streets. As his mind embraced this feeling, all the half realized memories and questions seemed insignificant, belonging to a world peopled by strangers. Beneath his feet, the road ended.


An ancient cathedral stood before Sean, its weathered stone spires reaching into the gloom, the stained-glass windows dark and silent. Mounting the steps he walked over to the large, iron-banded wooden doors. As his hand touched the wood a sense of calm flooded through him, a peace which seemed to beckon him onwards. Reaching down he grasped the lock which secured the doors and pulled. With a metallic crack, the hasp of the lock snapped and the chain slithered with a hiss onto the floor.

As the portal swung inwards on silent hinges Sean walked, entranced, into the church. The stained-glass window behind the altar started to glow softly, the tiny motes of light drifting through the stillness and infusing him. Looking down he saw he was growing incandescent, his body losing form as his mind basked in rapture. As he floated gently upwards, through the church roof and into the shrouded sky, it suddenly made sense. After a millennia of mortal lives, God had finally called his Fallen Ones home.