A/N: I felt like posting something and I feel like this is a pretty good place for a crossover, so why the hell not?
And my reasoning for Arthur being in Purgatory - his death was magical (magic sword and all that), and he was the King of Albion, destined to return one day... and that doesn't sound very human. Nor demonic. Purgatory's where everything else goes, so yeah!
There probably will be one more bit to this short thing, because I want to explain how Arthur gets out. (Maybe Merthur will happen?)
They say only humans are sent to Heaven or Hell. Everything in between gets sent to the middle ground; the land of monsters.
Purgatory.
Humans rarely appeared there, and if they did show up it wouldn't be too long before they found themselves in the bottom of a beast's belly - only to wake up once more on the other side of the Eternal Forest. It was an endless battle of blood and instinct, and yet the young man furiously fighting his way out of a swathe of fanged creatures caught Benny's eye.
He hadn't sensed such a soul in Purgatory before. Every other creature out there was exactly that: a creature, intent on nothing more than the ferocious Hunt and the promise of warm blood by the end of the day, whether it be by their hand or another's.
But this soul shone like the others did not, and as he roared like a mighty dragon, the monsters around him scattered in fear.
Benny, however, was curious. After all, he didn't intend on harming this kid. At least, not at the moment, because kid was the only way to describe him. Benny hated hurting (or maiming, or killing, or whatever had to be done to survive) kids.
He had golden locks drowning out sparkling blue eyes, that glowed with absolute feral determination and furious intent. He wielded a majestic sword, with a golden hilt and interesting inscriptions in the base of the blade. The steel glittered with magic and suddenly Benny had a strong suspicion that he would not like this child when he's angry, because he sure as all hell knew how to manage that damn sword.
He wore chain mail - not as odd and outfit for the Eternal Hunt as you'd think - and a ragged, torn and cut-short cape that rippled scarlet into the wind. Benny tried to ignore the top half of a golden dragon on the cape, and that the other half of it had obviously been ripped off at some point. "Capes aren't such a good idea out here, friend," the vampire noted, putting his hands up in a gesture for peace.
"I've been here for quite a while, friend," the kid replied, somehow turning Benny's peace offering into a filthy insult, "I think I can handle myself without some damn magical thing telling me what to do."
"Ain't magical, knight-boy. Just a run 'o the mill vamp, no need to worry." Except he wasn't just a run 'o the mill vamp, because he didn't want to hunt and kill. He hadn't really asked for this afterlife, and he sure as anything didn't want to be a vampire anymore. He wanted to be Benjamin again, the man who managed to fight the beast screaming inside of him in order to fall in love with the most beautiful woman in the world.
But he couldn't focus on that just at that moment, because Sir Idiot was narrowing his eyes and inching closer to him, sword extended and ready to attack at a moment's notice.
Well, this was going to be downright fascinating. Benny took a cautious step backwards, keeping his hands up and fangs out of sight. "Slow down, brother," he chuckled, "I ain't gonna hurt you."
The boy grunted out a strange, angry word and lowered his sword. "The moment you so much as twitch a malignant muscle, I'll chop off your bloody head."
So he was English. Cute. "Got no intention of runnin' you down, brother." Benny was sure to rasp his words as peacefully as possible. Who knew how this kid would react to his vampiric self? Probably horribly. Extremely horribly.
"I'm not your brother, understand? I've got one name, and one name only." He grumbled, somehow still managing to fill the small clearing with a massive presence. Benny could feel the weight of centuries on this boy, despite his weak and human demeanor. It reminded him of the whispered tales of creatures so blackened and broken that they lived in the recesses of Purgatory's endless reach, starving and writhing and waiting for the chance to escape and destroy every world to ever exist. But this boy carried himself like a proud and strong man - in fact, he stood like a seasoned warrior. Benny wondered how such a young one could seem so old.
"Apologies, kid. What do they call you 'round these parts?" A peaceful, curious approach was the best one he could take, really. Best not to set him off any more than he was.
"I am not a kid, either," the golden-haired boy furrowed his brow, "I am - was - Arthur, King of Camelot."
A king, huh? That was extremely... not-monster of him. Benny remembered tales of a famous king by that name when he was a kid - the fact that he had been stuck in Purgatory for all that time was definitely... depressing. "Sorry to hear that. Got any idea why you ended up here, of all places?"
Arthur frowned, loosening the hold on his sword ever so lightly. "I'm not sure," he grumbled, and damn if he didn't look like a child, "but I made a promise that I'd be back. He needs me." Arthur then gave a defeated laugh, and shook his head. "Who am I kidding? I need him, not the other way around." His face fell from the look of dry amusement and he sighed heavily. "I promised I'd return..."
Benny cleared his throat, clearly not willing to let Arthur know that whomever he made that promise to was most certainly dead. Then again, it was best not to keep his hopes up for the rest of time. After all, there was no way out. He had tried way too many times to escape already, to no avail.
"I hate to tell you this, man, but... it's been thousands of years since you took your last breath. See, me? I've been here for a while. Plenty of years. But you? Kid, I've heard tales that you killed dragons in your spare time. The dragons I know of can only be killed with a blade dipped in the blood of one of their own fugly folk, and if I might say so, I have a feelin' that there weren't all that many dragons back in those days."
Arthur glared at him, and for a moment Benny swore his entire un-life flashed before his eyes.
Again.
"There is a way out," Arthur hissed, as though he could read Benny's mind, "and Merlin is waiting for me. So either you must help me fight my way out, or you can get out of my way." The sword was pulled up again for emphasis, so Benny took a couple cautionary steps back. All right, kid was delusional. Best to leave him be.
"You find a way out, you come and let me know. I'm gettin' sick of this place myself, y'know."
Arthur grunted. He did not sheathe his sword, and he remained an extremely threatening position, but the foliage surrounding him seemed to swallow the king whole.
Once more, Benny was alone in the Eternal Forests with nothing but his thoughts and a never-ending tune bouncing around in his brain. Maybe Boy-King could find a way out. Maybe he couldn't. All Benny knew was that in order to survive Purgatory, you had to sing the song of flesh and blood and bone, and that song would never end.
With a grin and a whistle, he was back to fighting for his life.