A strangled gasp coughed up from my throat and I convulsed from pain. I cracked open my matted eyes and blinked repeatedly in an attempt to make sense of things, but there was nothing. Inky blackness surrounded me and I began to hyperventilate as I realized I might be blind.

Taking deep breaths, I tried to get a hold of myself. My face felt bruised and there was a constant ache in my back. Reaching around, I rubbed the area in hopes of relieving some of the pain, but stopped when my hand touched something wet and sticky. As I brought my hand to my nose and sniffed, my stomach churned and my head began to spin – it smelled like blood.

"Oh God," I whimpered aloud.

"Sorry to be the one to tell you..."

A deep voice reverberated from somewhere in the depths of the darkness making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

"But there are no gods here. Only monsters."

Immediately I found it impossible to take a deep breath; I reached for my inhaler, but it wasn't in my pocket. The muscles in my throat began to constrict and my lungs burned from lack of oxygen.

I'd always thought the feeling of an asthma attack was a lot like having your throat and chest squeezed by a Burmese python: the harder you fight the tighter and more painful it gets. But this time it was worse - much, much worse. I sank to the ground as the pain in my throat and tightness in my chest continued to intensify.

I had to get out. Find a way to escape. But my vision had begun to darken around the edges and I knew I didn't have long before I was completely unconscious. As I fought to draw air into my lungs a pair of hands latched onto my legs and dragged me deep into the dark. I tried to scream, but considering I couldn't breathe at all the only sound I managed was a squeaky gasp similar to a creaky door hinge.

It was the last breath I managed before I felt the darkness close in and suffocate me.

Waking up felt like dying. I panted for breath and coughed repeatedly. Blood splattered from my mouth onto the stone floor and I had to turn away to keep from getting sick. Everything on my body hurt, especially my lungs and throat. As I rolled away from the blood and onto my back, I noticed the room I was in was no longer dark.

I also noticed – it was hard not to – a ridiculously large throne situated dead center in the room. It was unoccupied, but I imagined whoever usually sat upon it thought very highly of him or herself.

"I have to get out of here," I whispered.

During my last therapy session my doctor had tried to explain to me why talking to myself was a bad idea. She claimed it made me seem "unapproachable."

At the moment, I considered talking to myself the very least of my problems. If I somehow managed to wake up from this dream-hallucination thing, the first thing I was going to do was get a new therapist. I had decided this entire thing was her fault. The new drugs she had given me had to be to blame for this bad trip.

Struggling to my feet, I wobbled toward the door at the far left of the room.

"Going somewhere?" a deep voice called from behind me.

I froze in place, feeling a bit like a guilty child. After gathering my courage, I managed to spin around and face the voice. A man now sat on the throne, the look on his face practically screaming his apathy and impatience. He wasn't wearing anything flashy or regal, but the way he held himself made me wary and somehow I knew I wasn't worth more than a grain of sand to him.

"I-I w-was just leaving," I managed to stutter under his intense gaze. His dark eyes bored into me in a way that felt as if he could see into my mind, viewing my every fault and insecurity.

"Without my permission?" he taunted, raising a dark eyebrow and leaning toward me.

If this was a just a hallucination it shouldn't really matter what I say, but I felt myself begin to panic anyway.

"U-um, no?"

He grinned, a sinister smile that chilled me to the bone. His teeth were pointed and somewhat bloody and stood out starkly against his dark skin. My breaths were starting to become labored again and I fought to regain control of myself. It wouldn't do me any good to pass out again.

"If you want to be reinstated all you had to do is ask, darling," he said, throwing one of his legs over the arm of the throne.

"Reinstated?" I asked in a gasping whisper.

"Of course," he replied. "Don't play games. Just give me an offer and we'll see whether I deem you worthy."

My mind was spinning, but whether it was from fear or from lack of oxygen I wasn't entirely certain.

Nothing he was saying made any sense, but then again if this was a hallucination it made sense that he wasn't making sense. Right? Wait; was I even making any sense? I rubbed my aching head and then pinched myself hard enough to bruise in an attempt to get myself out of this nightmare.

Still nothing. Deciding my best bet was to just play this out, I murmured, "I don't understand."

When I finally got up the courage to look up into the eyes of tall, dark, and creepy, he was looking at me like I was crazy. That wasn't anything new. Pretty much everyone thought I was crazy.

"How long are you going to keep up this ridiculous charade?"

The strange man flung himself from the throne and I cringed back from his murderous glare. As he approached I noticed he towered over me, and that was an impressive feat considering I was 5'10''. He was built like a linebacker and looked twice as mean. I wanted to ask him to get out of my personal space, but he seemed to be royalty of some kind and could probably have me executed so I kept my mouth shut.

His hands grasped the sides of my head and forced me to face him. I struggled to free myself, but he had had the strength of a grizzly. As soon as his black eyes locked onto mine I was paralyzed. Not from love at first sight, or anything as ridiculous as that, but from all-consuming, knee-quivering terror. Surprisingly enough I wasn't having a panic attack though. My breathing was steady and calm and despite knowing I should be afraid I wasn't.

"Calm down," he ordered, shaking me once.

His iron grip wasn't doing anything but making me feel claustraphobic. As I attempted to jerk away I stumbled and fell to my knees.

"P-please. I just want to go home," I begged.

"Come, sit," he commanded me, as he motioned toward his throne.

I shook my head and tried to crawl away again toward the door.

"We need to talk. And I would like it if we could have this conversation like adults, instead of you cowering in the floor like a child," he snapped.

I glared at him and stayed where I was. Childish? Perhaps, but I was not sitting in that throne and I was not getting any closer to him.

He returned my glare and said, "Fine. Have it your way."

"I suppose since you weren't informed about this when you were turned it is my job to welcome you to purgatory—"

"What?" I asked, raising my head from my knees to look at him in complete bewilderment.

"Don't interrupt me when I'm talking!" he shouted, his face taking on an inhuman look. His teeth elongated into fangs and his dark pupils had taken over most of his eye. I inched further away, my hand reaching for the doorframe instinctively. "And get away from that door!" he ordered.

"Now, as I was saying, this is purgatory and I am king. If you must speak, you will address me as Your Highness or King Moroi. Since you obviously don't know what's happened to you, I will try and clear up your confusion.

From your ignorance and fear of this place I believe that you were turned without consent. This is not allowed and the individual responsible will be dealt with, I assure you. However, it does not change what you have become-"

If he was trying to clear up any confusion he was failing miserably. I was more confused than ever and he was still talking.

"...our kind are not allowed to change others without their permission. It's why you hear all of those stories about us not being allowed to enter your home without having been invited inside-"

"Wait," I said, holding up my hand and trying to stand up on my wobbly legs. "Just wait. Are you talking about vampires?"

He glared at me again and replied, "Yes. Of course I am. And what did I say about interrupting me?"

I laughed in disbelief. "Vampires? Are you crazy?"

The look he gave me made the laughter die in my throat.

"I think it would be wise to shut up now," he snarled. "Considering I am in control of your eternal soul."

"Eternal soul? As in the afterlife?" I asked. Apparently my mouth wasn't taking the hints from my brain that it needed to shut up.

But this time, he didn't seem to mind that I had interrupted

"Yes. I am Lord over purgatory, the afterlife reserved for our kind, those no longer human – the paranormal. A vampire changed you and then - very unluckily, may I add - a hunter happened across you and he staked you in the heart." He said it nonchalantly, as if he could not care one iota about what had happened to me.

I could only stare at him. There were no questions floating around in my head, no protests – only stunned silence. The only thing I could think to say was, "So...you're telling me I'm dead."

Moroi nodded. "Well, undead. But essentially, yes, you're no longer living."

I had put so much effort into standing just moments ago, but it now seemed pointless considering my legs had turned to jelly and could no longer support my weight. I slumped back to the ground, wanting to curl into a ball and cry. A thought began to form at the back of my mind and I latched onto it in an attempt to keep my sanity.

"You said something about being reinstated. Is there a way I can go back?"

He grinned that eerie smile and replied, "Perhaps, if I allow it. But you have to make me an offer first."

I shook my head. He was a king, wasn't he? What could I offer him?

"What is it you want? You claim I'm dead, it's not like I have access to money or anything."

"You misunderstand," he replied. "Money isn't valuable here. Souls are the currency we deal in. If I send you back how many do you think you can win me?"

A joke - that's all this was. Some sort of sick, twisted joke.

"In exchange for sending me home, you want me to steal people's souls?"

He seemed to take offense at that and frowned. "Not stealing, no. Coerce, maybe, but not steal. There are many who would like to become like us: ageless, strong, beautiful. We can give them that – for a price."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was serious. "What do you do with the souls after you get them?"

"That's none of your concern," he snapped, waving a hand as if to dismiss the subject. "If you ever want to leave here or see your family again then you will have to do things my way."

I ran my hands through my hair, thinking. Then I realized I had just put my sweaty hands in my clean hair and immediately withdrew them in disgust.

"If I go back, I'll have to remain a vampire?"

Moroi shrugged. "It seems like a small price to pay for getting your old life back doesn't it?"

"What happens if I go back and don't get you the souls?" I asked.

His face became dark and he took several measured steps toward me. "Lie to me, you mean? You want to know what happens if you lie?"

I swallowed, as he seemed to grow in height and draw all of the light from the room until he was the only thing I could see. Without any warning I was suddenly within his grasp, long taloned fingers digging into my arms.

He leaned down and his deep voice whispered low against my ear. "If you cross me, I will make sure you pay for it for all eternity. Do you understand?"

My blood welled beneath his fingers and my nerves screamed in pain. I could only nod in response, my throat too tight to say anything. He wiped my cheek with the back of his hand and I realized I had been crying.

Tears continued to pool against my lashes and I couldn't stop shaking. My teeth chattered with the force of the tremors. The king looked down at me, watching me come apart from fear and uncertainty, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. After several seconds he chuckled under his breath and sat me down in his throne.

"So what will it be? Going back to your old life and winning me souls – or staying here where your soul is under my command for all eternity?"

Still afraid to look into his eyes, I kept my head down and shrugged. "Either way I will suffer, won't I?"

Moroi seemed to hesitate before replying, "You may get used to it. You have an eternity to acclimate yourself to either situation."

Sniffling I wiped my eyes and said, "If I were to remain here, what would my life be like?"

"You will serve me in any way I deem fit," he said, his voice becoming hard, cold. "Most of those who choose to remain here change their minds after only a few months and make me another offer to get out."

"That didn't answer my question," I replied in frustration.

He stared down at me with a blank, apathetic look.

"Since you came here unaware of our kind and how things work, I will give you three days to make your decision. You will get to see exactly what life will be like for you here if you decide to stay. After your three days are up I will expect you to return here with an answer to my question. That is, if you can still speak."

I looked up to ask him a question only to find he was gone. The room was empty once again and the only indication that our conversation had ever taken place was the pool of my blood and tears littering the floor.