It was freezing cold in my cell in Hell, and I wished the demon would leave. He had been there for some time now, pacing around, his hands clasped behind his back, his horned head bowed, his black robe rustling in the most irritating manner on the stone floor. Every now and then, he would speak to me, always saying something enigmatic and apropos of nothing. “Call me Kanz,” he said. “Hello, Kanz,” I said, although I wasn’t sure if I should be talking to him. He kept pacing. After a little while, I tried, “It’s freezing in here. I thought Hell was supposed to be hot.” This caught his attention. He whirled around to face me, his robe swirling like a dervish. He grinned. I didn’t like that very much. He said to me, “Life is cruel; life is earnest. If you get too cold, turn up the furnace.” This was apparently immensely funny. He laughed and laughed. Demon humor. I didn’t like that much either. He resumed his pacing. After a while, Kanz asked me, “Do you like your cell? Other than the temperature?” “Well, no,” I told him. “But, you know, it’s Hell after all.” I tried smiling at him. Kanz stopped abruptly and turned again to face me. “There is a fire, you know.” “A fire?” I asked. “Imagine that: a fire in Hell.” “Don’t be a smart ass,” he snarled, and I wiped that smile right off my face. “There are different levels to this place. Some are worse than others.” “Just like Dante said.” “Don’t mention that name,” he said. “We never talk about that bastard.” “Sorry, Kanz.” “Just strolled through like he owned the place.” “I said I was sorry.” I was hoping to get him to shut up. “Him and that bloody poet. And The Boss never said a word.” “I thought you said you didn’t talk about him.” “As I was saying,” the demon said, “There is a fire.” This was the first time since he entered my cell and started his pacing and talking that he had strung together interrelated thoughts. The demon was no longer just saying things; he was talking to me. The demon was talking to me in my cell in Hell, and I didn’t like it very much at all. “Oh, yes. A fire. A fire, I say. A fire!” He was smiling at me again. I don’t suppose I have to tell you that I didn’t like it much. “A fire,” I responded. “A fire in Hell.” “Oh, yes. There is a fire.” He smiled his biggest, most tremendous, face splitting, demon smile. “There IS a fire…in Hell.” The demon held up his index finger, pointing at the ceiling of my cell, to show he was making a point. I felt he had already made it quite plain. I wondered if all demons were like this, scary and tiresome at the same time and a bit obtuse. Probably. This was Hell, after all. I sighed and shivered at the same time. And the demon continued, “Everybody wants to stay out of the fire. Nobody wants to go in the fire. Do you want to stay out of the fire?” “Hell, yes, I want to stay out of the fire,” I told him. This resulted in another burst of demonic laughter. Kanz just about laughed his horns off on that one. And then he left by way of the door with a swish of his black robe. As far as I could see, there were no hinges, handles or latches, and the door was invisible as soon as kanz closed it.. I examined my cell as I had done many times. It was a stone cube, perhaps ten feet by ten by ten. Aside from the invisible door, the only feature was a wooden, three legged stool maybe two feet tall and a window about seven feet from the floor of the cell. By standing on the stool, I could look out the window. I had done so once. Only once. Outside the cell was bizarre landscape which I supposed could be described only as hellish. It was a cratered moonscape filled with bizarre and terrifying monsters. The one time I had looked out the window, these creatures has rushed toward me, roaring and screeching. I never looked out again. ***** I was completely at a loss to say how long I had been in Hell. The quality and intensity of the light from my window never varied. And I also never felt the need to sleep in Hell. I had tried a time or two to no avail. So there was absolutely nothing to judge by. How the hell long had I been here? A week? A month? A thousand years? The visit from Kanz was not the first time I’d had a demon in my cell. They popped in from time to time to say cryptic and frightening things. Once one of them opened the invisible door, stuck his horned head in, grinned a perfectly ghastly, fanged grin and said, “Hey, you ain’t seen nothing yet” Another time, one dropped by to tell me, “They split you open, you know. AND PLAY WITH YOUR INSIDES!” and left laughing like hell. No pun intended. Once one came in and sat on my little stool and spoke to me in a language I think was Latin for about an hour before leaving in what seemed like utter disgust. They all looked the same. They each had recognizable facial features, but they were all Caucasian males who looked perfectly Human except for the horns. They all spoke with a rather flat, American accent. I didn’t know if this was because I was an American or if the USA ran Hell. They all wore identical, black robes. My robe, incidentally, was white. The visit from Kanz bothered me on a variety of levels. No demon had ever engaged me in conversation. No demon had ever said anything to me that didn’t seem designed to scare the hell out of me or confuse me. No demon had ever given me any information about Hell. There is a fire? There are different levels to this place? The more I thought about it, the more it frightened me. Finally, I decided not to think about it anymore. And that was exactly when Kanz showed up again. He breezed into my cell one “day”, smiling his rather disturbing smile and holding a tall, wooden staff. “Guess what?” he asked, breathlessly. “Uh, what?” was all I could come up with. I was scared, truly scared. Kanz struck the base of his staff on the stone floor. He smiled, smiled, smiled. “We are going outside. We are going to take a walk. We are going to talk about your new job.” When I said nothing because my jaw was hanging open, Kanz exclaimed, “Isn’t that SPLENDID?” “Outside?” was all I could manage. “Yes, outside! Outside, outside, outside!” The demon was positively beside himself with joy. I gulped and pointed to the window. “You mean….out there?” “Why, yes, of course,” Kanz replied. “Uh, well. What about the uh…the uh…you know, wildlife” “Wildlife?” queried Kanz. There’s no wildlife in Hell.” “Then what the hell are those monsters out there?” “Now, now,” Kanz chided. “We don’t use the M word here. Those are demons, my friend. “Demons?” I exclaimed. “Demons like you?” “Well, naturally not like me. There are different orders of demons. One thing the Medieval bastards got right.” “Are you telling me,” I asked incredulously, “That those, those…things out there are sentient beings?” “Of course. All living things are sentient.” “Demons aren’t living things!” I practically screamed at him. Kanz looked puzzled. “Now why, pray tell, would you think that. I assure you I am a living being just as you are.” I was now jumping up and down in fury and frustration. And fear. “I, Kanz, I, most certainly am not a living thing.” “Of course you are,” Kanz said calmly. “Why ever would you think that you are not?” “Because I’m dead! I’m dead, man! I died and went to Hell. I am not living, otherwise I would not be in Hell.” Kanz chuckled. “This my friend, is exactly what we must talk about today. Among other things.” He stepped over and put his arm around my shoulder. Do I have to tell you that I didn’t like this very much? And Kanz whisked open the invisible door, and out we went into a long, grey stone corridor. ***** We strode along, Kanz and I, his wooden staff tap, tapping on the stone floor, his arm around my shoulder. I kept trying to squirm out, but he wouldn’t allow it. Kanz, it seems was very, very strong. We wound our way through corridors of grey stone, passing other demons frequently, alone, in pairs or in small groups, all of them engaged in conversation with each other. I did notice, none of the other demons spoke to Kanz or acknowledged him in any way. “Now, my friend,” said Kanz. “It’s Joe, isn’t it? May I call you Joe?” “Yes, of course.” “Now, Joe, you seem to believe you are dead and therefore not a living being. You also seem to believe the same of myself. Can you tell me why? Where, oh where did you acquire this delusion?” “Well, let’s start with you.” “Okay,” said Kanz. “You are not a living being; you are a demon.” “But, Joe, I am a living being. And a demon.” “Demons aren’t living beings.” “Say it ain’t so!” Kanz exclaimed, eyes wide. “If demons are not living beings, then what, may I ask, are we?” “You are angles, of course, supernatural beings, never having been alive, who have been cast into Hell after your rebellion against God. You are fallen angles. You were never alive, you are immortal and certainly, definitely NOT living beings!” I stopped, breathless, waiting for Kanz to kill me or do whatever demonic thing demons did to Human souls who contradicted them.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 21:17:05 +0000
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