WARNING: This story may be disturbing for young children.
NOTE: This is NOT a fictional story. The characters in this story are false but the facts are real.
Hell
Esther Brincat
This is my story, most of this information is true. You don’t want to be where I am. If you don’t care then I suggest you stop reading this and walk away. But I am warning you: THIS IS REAL.
Churches teach half-truths. In the youth groups, they don’t teach kids the REAL things about God. Sometimes, they don’t even mention Satan. All they say is, “Don’t sin. Or you all will go to Hell.” I have heard that line a few times. They never explain to us what Hell is like. Most teenagers think Hell is a party.
What if I told you that I am telling you all of this from Hell right now? Well I am. I live in Hell. I will be in this place for eternity and I tell you HELL IS NOT A PARTY.
It all started when I was a senior in high school. I finally got my driver’s license that summer and I was ready to PARTY. My parents didn’t give a crap about me or what I did. I did whatever I wanted to do. Can I drink Vodka? Sure! Why not? Can I try popping pills? You’re already screwed up. Might as well give it a go! That was my parent’s attitude.
My dad was an avid wife beater and my mom was a druggie; they both were into the booze. I always earned good grades in school. So what? I never did any homework. I was a natural learner. Once I got my driver’s license, I just left home and never looked back.
When I was young, my Aunt took me to church, I was in the 7th grade and already drinking and smoking weed. I went into the church and saw all the little perfect kids hanging out, talking and laughing talking about Jesus. I wanted to laugh and punch them in the face. So the Youth Pastor opened up with a good message about getting saved. I was listening and thinking about it until he asked for my money. He stood up with an offering tray and asked for us to give to his church. Here I was broke and he was looking for my money. I was about to get up and leave when he started talking about Hell and told us,
“Don’t sin. Or you will all go to hell.” I was so disgusted I left. I never stepped foot in a church after that.
The night I died was colder than usual. I called my girlfriend and asked her to hit up all of her friends so we could get together and party. When we got everyone together at her place we all had the time of our lives.
Then some dude came in. He looked like us; jeans, backwards cap, black shirt. But for some reason he wasn’t like us. He had tattoos and a Mohawk, but he felt like a trespasser to me. He looked around the room for a long time and his eyes fell on me. I didn’t like him staring at me so I turned and walked away from him trying to hide. I went to the bar and asked for some rum. When I got my drink I turned around and saw him standing right behind me,
“Found ya.” He said smiling.
“Hi.” I said cautiously.
“My name’s Mike. What’s yours?”
“I’m called Danger.” He gave me a curious look,
“Danger?” I grinned liking the way he was looking at me. He was probably scared.
“Yup, that’s my nickname.” He smiled,
“Okay Danger.” He seemed so kind and nice, that was his problem.
“So who the hell are you?” I asked. He shrugged,
“No one important.” He said simply. But that wasn’t true.
Mike and I talked for a while; he was an ex-convict. He landed in jail at 14 for drug possession and was released at 17. Afterwards, he went down in a bad drug deal when he was shot and left to die in an alleyway. As he was dying, a girl came up to him and took him to the hospital. When he awoke, she was still there and told him she had prayed for him. I laughed when Mike mentioned about the girl praying for him. I never believed in that bogus stuff.
I kept getting drunk while Mike stuck to the same beer the whole night. Then my girlfriend came to me and asked me if I wanted to go on a ride in the truck with a bunch of friends. It sounded fun so I got up and was about to leave when Mike stood up suddenly,
“You can’t go.” He said. He looked deeply worried.
“Why not?” I said staggering forward.
“If you go in that truck you’re gonna die.” He said. I scoffed,
“Come on man, don’t be a freak. Join us!” I turned to go hoping he would follow us and drop the subject. Then I felt him grab my shoulder,
“Let me drive you home.” He said firmly. I looked at the hand on my shoulder and noticed his bracelet. For the first time I noticed the letters on it said: PROVERBS 3:5 U
“You’re a Christian!” I said in horror,
“You came here to judge me and to preach to me.” Mike backed off and held his hands up,
“Do I look like a preacher to you?”
“No, no way man, you guys are so stupid trying to convert us. All you care about is the money, and you know what? When I die, I want to go to Hell it sounds like a party!” I will forever regret those words. I called my friends who were all drunk, climbed into a truck and was almost out of the driveway when I saw Mike trying to get past a few guys. They were trying to beat him up as I had ordered them to.
“Danger! Get out! Don’t do it!” I heard Mike’s voice over all the chaos. Then I passed out in the bed of the truck. Five minutes later I awoke with an awful headache and my girlfriend on top of me,
“How long did I pass out for?”
“Not long.” She said.
I thought I was hallucinating. I grabbed a beer in the cooler next to me but for the first time in my life I felt guilty about it. I shook the feeling off quickly and started making out with my girlfriend. We had to stop though because Devin our driver was beginning to play a game; How Fast Can an ‘85 Chevy Go Without Falling Apart? We all cheered Devin on. He was climbing to a hundred when we all stood up in the bed of the truck and danced to the music that was blaring on the radio. Suddenly Devin made a mistake. He reached for an unopened beer bottle lying on the passenger floor seat . The truck veered to the right and people were falling off. I looked around me and gave a smirk thinking it was part of the fun, until Devin slammed into a tree. In mid-air I remembered Mike’s haunting words,
“If you go in that truck you’re going to die.” I shrieked as I landed on the hood of the truck, heard a snap, and then saw blackness.
I awoke in a cell with no light. I heard the doors open and felt two slimy hands grab me. I tried to protest but I couldn’t because I was gagged. Suddenly I was dragged to another room. The slimy hands took off my gag, threw me in there and left.
This room looked like an interrogation room with 3 chairs. In one, was a man who was weeping, holding his head in his hands. He had a beard, and long chocolate-colored hair. In the other was a… thing. I don’t know if he was human. But he seemed like it. He was wearing a dark cloak with a hood and you couldn’t see his face. I sat in the empty chair and faced them.
“Where am I?” I asked. The Weeping Man lifted his head and I saw the saddest eyes I have ever seen. The Hooded Man let out a cackle and I shivered inside. His head turned to the Weeping Man and said,
“What’s done is done. I will always win.” He stared at me, I could tell because what appeared to be his eyes, were pure black marbles of evil. I knew this was a wicked spirit,
“Boy,” he said in a whispered gravelly voice,
“You will enter my dominion. You must go through that gate.” I looked behind me and saw an entrance I didn’t see there before. On the top was a sign that read, “Regrets.” I was confused,
“What? I don’t get it.” The hooded man rolled his eyes at me.
“Get up now and go there I felt slimy hands grab me again and I was forced into the gate. Behind me was the tormenting laughter of the Hooded Man.
I entered and then up ahead of me I saw something that looked like light. It was a TV screen. It started playing. The Hooded Man appeared on the screen,
“Hello Phillip,” said the dead voice. I wondered how he knew my real name,
“This is The Horror Mirror of Regrets. I will play back your life, and everything you could have done with it. When you are done watching this, you will feel like what you are, a complete failure.” I felt pale, the screen continued playing.
I saw me last night. Listening to Mike and letting him drive me to his place. I saw him help me to his door where I passed out and he helped me to the couch. I watched him give me some coffee when I woke up, and me crying to him about everything that went wrong in my life. Then he told me about Jesus and to my surprise I got saved. I saw how I ended up going to rehab, reading the Bible and praying. I went on to help my friends by getting them saved, and eventually I led my parents to Christ. I did get married and had children. I became a politician, something I had always dreamed of doing. But I never told anyone. I became the President of The United States of America. I died peacefully, and finally I walked down a golden road with the bearded man whom I saw weeping earlier.
When the Hooded Man appeared again, I realized what happened,
“I’m- I’m dead?” I whispered hoarsely,
“Yes.” The Hooded Man said smugly, “That could have been your future. I am so glad you chose to stay with me.”
“I didn’t” I shook my head, “You forced me too.” Then I felt a chill in the room,
“Oh but you did. You were the one who didn’t listen to Mike. You were the one who said that you wanted to live here you heathen, and now you are going to live with me.” Then it dawned on me,
“You’re- you’re the devil?” I gasped in horror,
“Yes.” He said taking off his hood. “I am.”
After screaming for what seemed like 30 minutes I ran. His face was so despicable and horrible I fled,
“Lord, help me.” I said. Then I heard a voice in my head. A sad quiet whisper,
“I tried but you didn’t want my help.”
“It’s too late?!” I shouted. “It can’t be!” Then I remembered the weeping man. I realized he was crying over me. He lost me a long time ago.
I was forced to get up by the slimy hands and walk. I came to the end of this gate and another one loomed over me. Satan was waiting for me at the entrance,
“So… You regret doing some things? Who’s going to care?” He hit me in the face and spat on me,
“Not me.” He sneered. Then he left.
The next gate was called “The Wails of The Tortured.” I held back but I was thrown in again with the gate slamming hard behind me. Satan’s voice drowned me,
“These are all the cries and tears of people you have hurt. These are the people who have cried over you, and whom you ignored. This is your entire fault.”
Then I heard all the screams and moans. I covered my hands to my ears but I still could hear them. Then I felt the tears. It was like a heavy rain. I was drenched in seconds. The screams lasted forever. I ran, I stumbled and fell. Then it all stopped.
The next gate was titled: “Failures.” In this gate the same dark voice spoke,
“These are all your failures, starting with your birth.” I felt as if a thousand pounds were placed on my back. It was my burden. I screamed in agony, I tried to take it off but I couldn’t. I heard the sinister laughter. I was shoved into another gate. This one said, “Name.” I entered to what seemed like a workshop. Many demons were working. Making wooden signs and putting heavy, rusty chains through two holes. One walked up to me. He was the color of Hatred, and he had black fangs and red claws. The voice spoke again,
“These are your new names. You are not Phillip or Danger anymore. You will wear this sign around your neck and anyone can call you that.” The demon placed the sign around my neck. I looked down and the biggest name on there was “Disappointment” followed by “loser, failure, drunkard, fool, selfish, and feeble.” I carried my sign around my neck like a slave and went through the next gate. This one said “Enemies.” I went in and heard the voice,
“This is your last gate. I presume you’re used to being a loser and that you will live here forever carrying that burden and sign. This gate is my favorite gate.” He said. You could hear the eagerness in his voice. It horrified me.
“This gate will tell you who your enemies were. Come, look.” I walked a short way and saw two circles. One said friends the other, enemies. There was only one guy in my friend’s circle and it was Mike. In the enemies circle, were all my party friends. Devin, my girlfriend, Mark, Eric, Ryan, Josh… All of them were in there,
“They never cared about you Disappointment.” Satan said, “They just liked your weed and booze.” Ashamedly I walked out and was immediately grabbed by the slimy hands that bound me and chained my hands and feet. A man whom I presumed to be a jailer looked at my sign and yelled out,
“We’ve got a Disappointment!” A voice in the distance yelled,
“Throw him in with the Bullies!” I was shoved into a small cell with three other guys. In the distance you could hear anguish filled screams. I looked at the men who were in front of me. They were covered in scars from head to toe, except for their faces which had 6 long scratches on each side. Then they started talking, but the only words that spewed out of their mouths were insults at me. They called meso many horrible names and told so many negative things that I shook in fear.
When I was a kid, they told me I would be just like my dad. I hated my dad, with all my heart, and the older I got the more I hated those words. One time in the 8th grade, I beat up a kid just for saying that. He went to the hospital. Now I was hearing the same things only here, I can’t do anything about them. Then I screamed, so loud that everyone shut up. Then when I stopped they were jeering. Next I retaliated by calling them names. Such nasty words, your mother would faint. They just laughed at me and quickly I realized I had become one of them.
This torture continued. For hours and hours I kept getting picked on. Only I started to notice that in other cells, demons would come in and grab another person. Each time the person would be screaming,
“NO! NO! Please…NO!!” And they were dragged away around the corner. I shuddered to think what would happen over there. Then six demons walked up to our cell; cackling and speaking a language that was unknown to me. I hid in the back, avoiding their detection, but the bullies shoved me forward calling me a ‘baby’ and a ‘wimp’ the entire time. I saw several red claws reach for me and I wanted to run but I couldn’t. I resentfully followed them.
Walking along the cells, I noticed each one was labeled. All your weaknesses were in that one cell. I was always a bully, laughing at nerds and beating them up. I was a cool guy, and in here I was thrown in with bullies who could beat me up easily. I was out in eternal punishment with people just like me.
As I walked along the cells, I read all the labels. There were: Rapists, Murderers, Backstabbers, Cheaters, Liars, and many more. But there were nice people in these cells. I saw Mr. Roberts, one of my neighbors. He was one of the nicest men on the block. Everyone loved him. But he was put in the cell labeled “Pedophiles.” Mrs. Robbins was in another cell. When I was five, she would stop by after church and she would give me a plate of home-made cookies. We were all sad when she died a couple of years later. Now I saw her in here under the label “Self-Worshippers” I was shocked how many good people and bad people were here.
Next, they led me to an empty cave. The scene outside of the cave was not picturesque. There were jagged rocks that surrounded the valley. Lava was spewing everywhere and in the distance I saw a lava waterfall. Skulls were scattered across the ground as if they were pebbles. The sky was black. No clouds, or the beautiful sunny days like on Earth.
One of the demons grabbed me sharply. All of the demons had six eyes, six claws on each hand, and black fangs . They were a gruesome image. He held one hand up and struck me across the chest. I bled as I fell on my knees and screamed. Then they all came at me and they tore into me within seconds. When there was no more skin left, they still tore at my guts. Once they finished me off , one demon grabbed both of his claws, and gave me 12 long scratches on both sides of my face. Now I was one of them .
When they left I was all alone bleeding, and gasping for air. Then slimy hands forced me up and kicked me hard on my side, signaling me to get moving. My skin was dangling from my sides, and I had to hold some of my guts in with my demolished hands. I walked in pain, groaning in torment at every step. I stumbled into my cell and fell on the ground. My cell mates laughed. One informed me that they do this every other day. They wait for a couple of days until our skin has healed, then they go at it all over again. Suddenly he laughed his mocking laugh as a piece of my skin fell off.
Then came our supper, the jail men came in and threw in four plates and left. The smell that came from those plates was too horrible to describe. The stench was worse the ten sewers, ten landfills, and thousands of road kills put together. It was fear in its purest form. I saw the others eat it and I tried it. I couldn’t keep it down so I threw it up while demons barked at me to eat it. So I had to eat my vomit. My mouth felt like it was on fire. We had to eat with our hands.
We don’t sleep in Hell. We have terrible nightmares so we don’t sleep because sleep is a gift. We sit and lie on a ground that feels like a million sharp needles poking our flesh. We eat fear. Hell is literally the hottest place you can ever imagine. We get blisters, boils, bug bites, and millions of other problems that no one who is alive right now has ever experienced.
So I warn you: If your life is going nowhere, please take it from me…YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE!! This is not a party. This is… HELL. If you don’t believe me, The Bearded Man ,who risked everything for us will shed more tears. I saw his tears fall, I saw him cry. You don’t want to ever see that. You don’t want to feel my pain. So I urge you to listen to God who is talking to you this instant. If you are lost, and you want to change, if you feel like your life is out of control; talk to God because He is always there. He will listen. Don’t go to HELL.
COPYRIGHT 2012
