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Well, I know I have some other works that I need to really get done, but this little idea popped into my head last night, and it wouldn't go away until I wrote a chapter for it. So, here's The Infant's Guide to Reaching Purgatory~ Some things to note before we get started: Firstly, the content warnings are very real. Pay attention to the tags before you jump in and read. If it's not for you, you are absolutely not obligated to read, and that's perfectly okay. Secondly, this is not meant as a religion-bashing story, and I will not make it one. I am not religious in the slightest myself (and some of the things that the characters say do not reflect my beliefs), but I respect all creeds. It's just that this story is set in hell, for the very most part. No, it's not a Hellaverse fic: just a babyfur story that happens to be set in a different sort of hell. Finally, it is a very short prologue, and I apologize for not being able to get back into the swing of things in my other stories. I just needed to write something down and post it. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Now, without further delay, let's get into this story: - Prologue - “What do you MEAN, ‘I’m going to Hell’?!” The female red wolf had all but screamed those words, lashing her tail to-and-fro, nude as the day she was born (to her utmost dismay as she continued to cover herself with her paws and tail as best as she could; the angels said that earthly clothes couldn’t be taken to the afterlife), standing on the clouds that made up the surface of whatever judgment chambers there were in Heaven. Fuck, even the walls and ceiling were covered in clouds. She was utterly incensed. How dare these fucking self-righteous hypocrites say she was damned?! What did they know about her life?! What did they know about her?! The swan-winged figure looked at her coldly. Gender and species were impossible to identify with the angel’s robes, the heavenly halo shining upon its masked face. “Violet Valencia Bailey,” the voice intoned, neither male nor female. “Please don’t make this as drawn out as it could be. You’ve been judged by your actions and sins, and-” “I WANNA KNOW WHY!” Violet snarled furiously. “Please don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. You know why. Your last actions literally spelled it out.” “Unless you think suicide is a sin all of a sudden?” the red wolf huffed, wishing she had something, anything, really, to cover her body. Even a towel would be nice… “I’d say brutally murdering your husband in cold blood gets-” “YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID TO ME, IF YOU’RE SO FUCKING ALL POWERFUL-” “Please do not interrupt me, and please do not curse. His actions were detestable. Yours are inexcusable, and you don’t even have the good grace to admit it.” “Bullshit! I did what any sane woman would’ve done to a fucking bastard like him!” “Please stop curs-” “Make me!” “Don’t - interrupt me - again.” “Make me! You’re not my parents!” “And thank the Lord Almighty I’m not. You’re acting like a petulant child.” “Fuck off, chickenwing! If you’re going to send me down to Hell anyway, when I don’t deserve it, you’re goddamned right I’m gonna chew your ass out!” The masked figure sighed and pulled out an odd circular object that Violet assumed was a phone of some kind (and it sucked that she couldn’t bring her phone with her to the afterlife. Seriously, the afterlife could go screw itself, at this point.). “We have a Code Sunshine, repeat, Code Sunshine,” the figure said in a bored tone. The red wolf was suddenly confused. “Sunshine?” she asked. “It means you’re getting what you’ve rightfully earned,” the angelic figure said, and Violet could practically hear the smug smile on their face that she knew they were hiding behind their mask. “It’s been a while since this code was used. You might want to give us some entertainment.” “Entertainment? The fuck are you talking about?! You sick fucks like to watch animals get tortured, don’t you?!” “You’ll see what happens. I bet you last a week before you’re begging for Lucifer’s deepest, darkest pits. Or three days before she has you right where she wants you.” “Huh?” Violet felt herself sinking through the clouds, and she howled in distress - she hated heights, hated them, hated them, hated them - before her entire body slipped through, and she began to freefall through the air, her spirit plummeting to earth as she continued screaming in terror, flailing for any purchase where there was none, her soul dropping like a stone. She saw the ground fly up to meet her, and she held her paws out to protect her face, awaiting the crash. Only she didn’t crash; the second Violet’s spirit hit the ground, she began to sink through the inky black, like she was going into water in the night. Her arms and legs were forced up to her chin, tail curled around her waist, as if she was a fetus again, her body compacting from the pressure. “OH?” a masculine voice rang out, sounding very amused. “So, you managed to anger an Archangel enough for them to request a Code Sunshine. Can I have your name?” “Who the fuck are you?” Violet snapped, her voice sounding oddly tiny for a fully-grown she-wolf. “Are you some demon who’s gonna try to torture me, asshole?” “Well, I can certainly see why they requested it.” The voice was still amused. “Let me see…what is your crime…oh, right here, they texted it to me. Heaven can be so kind in those cases…” “Who the fuck are you?!” the red wolf repeated furiously. “Ahem, Violet Valencia Bailey the red wolf, you brutally murdered your husband, Dirk Arnold Stauss the Tapanuli orangutan, with a shotgun…multiple shots before he was finally killed-” “Shut up!” Violet snarled, baring her fangs, wishing for the millionth time that she wasn’t naked. The demon continued as if she had never spoken, “-then committed suicide after the murder-” “SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Violet screamed into the inky blackness, her voice as loud and forceful as a puppy’s. "-aborted his potential children without his knowledge in the past, refusing them a life when you had other options-" "GOD DAMN YOU, GO SUCK YOUR FUCKING DICK!" “And you had arguments with him as well,” the voice finished with a thunderous ending in his tone, far more powerful than hers. “Do you deny any of this?” The red wolf was shaking, her fur bristling with rage. “Does anyone realize why I did this?! Do you even fucking CARE, you unfair piece of shit?!" “Fairness in Hell? Do not make me scoff. He is damned as well; there is your 'fairness'. The difference between this man and you is that he did not act childishly when confronted with his wrongdoings. He freely admitted his sins, boasted that he was proud of them, despite knowing very well they were wrong; he is facing his eternal punishment as we speak. Deep down, I think you do know you were not in the right either. What is the saying, ‘two wrongs do not make a right?’” “Shut up! You don’t know shit about me!” The voice sighed. “I cannot continue this conversation with someone so immature. I will leave you to the Grand Duchess, Astaroth. May this be the last time we meet.” “What?” Violet felt a burning charge go through her soul, trillions upon trillions of times both hotter and colder than she had ever felt in her twenty-five years of life on earth, unable to even scream out her pain in response - and after the charge lanced through every part of her that remained, her conscious thoughts slipped into darkness. - Hope y'all enjoyed~

So this story is heavily inspired by "Far from Home" by @bbykimmy so shout out there. ? The other thing I want to talk about is that while this a much gentler story without the same level of non-con it does start at pretty dark place that could be potentially triggering. Take care of yourself folks. *hugs on offer* CW: Suicide My Human is a Rescue….. October 22 2021…. everything was burning. The once clear crisp sky stained with soot and ash as dozens of terrible mushroom shaped clouds rose into the stratosphere above the broken remains of the Chicago skyline…. The young woman, Clara Simone age 25, could only watch on her knees from the roof of her apartment building in Evanston. The rough gravel aggerate surface cutting into her knees as the tears streamed silently down her face. She was alone and the world was literally ending….. It had been her day off while her wife Christine was working at the hospital down town…. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breath, she had to go!! Move Run!! Where? Before she even realized what the fuck she was doing Clara was in her bedroom rooting through the closet. There!!! That fucking pink urban camo duffle bag… She and Christine had put it together over the course of a five different Ubers and three different malls after one too many margaritas while watching the new Netflix show based on “Y The Last Man”…. Not bothering to pack anything else Clara grabbed her purse and sprinted the steps past several of her panicked neighbors to the underground parking garage beneath the building hopping into the Jeep Renegade she and Christine shared… She didn’t even remember how she got out of the metro area. It was all blur of movie shots. People screaming, sirens, snarled traffic. “I think I drove on the sidewalk for a quarter mile at least?” But just over an hour later she had crossed over the Wisconsin border and was weaving through traffic on the interstate. Clara had just passed Kenosha when a downed air national guard F-18 smacked into the northbound lanes of I-94 at several hundred miles an hour in dozens of flaming pieces. Clara only survived because she had cut onto the shoulder. The blast and impact sent her compact SUV tumbling into the woods. It was the pain that woke her…. Hanging upside down by her seat belt every part of her felt like it was being stabbed with glass needles. Getting loose and dropping to the ground sent a fresh lance of white-hot agony shooting up her left leg which was twisted at an unnatural angle. Grabbing her purse and the bag as she dragged herself from the wreckage Clara came to rest against a large ash. She wanted Christine. She wanted to be held by the woman who was everything while everything died but this fucking piece of shit world denied her even that…. Pulling her phone from her purse she watched the shattered screen light up. Showing a picture she had commissioned of her Christine, Jordan, and her big sister Naomi as anime characters. All gone, Naomi to breast cancer 2 years ago….. Part of her wouldn’t accept she trialed calling Christine, no answer. They had been facetiming when the sky had roared as it was split to pieces and a flash of light blinded her as the video cut out..... Then Jordan straight to zim’s voicemail….. She tried calling Christine another twenty times before flinging the phone away. Screaming and punching her fists against the tree bloody until collapsed heaving and throwing up. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to die at 90 curled up in bed with Christine from the after affects of an aneurism surrounded kids and grandkids…… Not bleeding out in the woods some where north of fucking Kenosha. In Clara’s panicked, exhausted, traumatized brain there was only one option left….. Reaching into the duffel bag she pulled out a piece of black polymer and metal…. It wasn’t fair the woman who she loved most, who had saved her and Naomi from their so-called family. Who literally helped make her the woman she was now. Was gone. She was alone. Most of her chosen family of close friends had probably died in the blast, they all lived downtown or closer to it… Holding the object she studied it with a curiosity. A Glock 22 semiautomatic pistol. The safety disengaged with a soft click. Followed the louder clack as she racked the slide chambering a round. Laughing and sobbing hysterically as she fumbled for her phone and hit shuffle for something to play her out. “We Stich These Wounds” happened to come on. “I’m going to wake up on Clara’s arms somewhere it’ll be morning and she’ll have breakfast ready like always. And fuck I get to see Naomi again. I’m going to be in Heaven with Christine and Naomi. I can’t wait to see you both…..” Smiling the entire time an exhausted Clara place the barrel to her temple and pulled the trigger….. Death however was not instantaneous as the angle was shallow and the bullet only passed through a few dozen cm’s of brain tissue. “Wow so tha real happen…” Christine slurred as she watched a black tunnel slowly close in on her vision. At the end of it was a figured wreathed in golden light….