by Carl East
Opening the door to my new house, I inhaled the smell of fresh paint and newly laid carpet. There was still a lot of work to do, but the restored camel back sofa and fireplace drew me like a magnet. I sat down to rest, secure in the knowledge that the former inhabitants living and dead were gone for good. As I pulled the new journal towards me, I felt the crisp clean pages crinkle under my fingers, where to begin I thought, as I put pen to paper.
The End
To Hell and Back
Part 1
Ten years, that’s how long I have left to live. It’s now the 16th of November 1998 and I’ve been to Hell and back.
My name is Geoffrey Morgan and my tale is one of disbelief but true never the less. I consider myself an expert in the paranormal, in that I have explanations to give on quite a number of subjects such as the occult and the spirit world.
For some years now I’ve been trying to prove the existence of Heaven, in part to set my mind at rest that that was where my parents had gone when they were taken from me. Well before their time I might add.
I’d interviewed countless people who had claimed they saw the light at the end of the tunnel during a near death experience. The stories all had one thing in common, none of them ever reached the end of that tunnel, so they couldn’t tell me what was beyond the light.
I studied ancient texts on the subject hoping that before the time of science people had known and seen things that couldn’t be explained away logically, and therefore had a better understanding of what might await us all after death. Once again, I came to a dead end, after not finding anything worthy of describing the afterlife.
I’d gotten to the point where I was feeling the only true way of finding out if Heaven existed would be to wait until I died. That of course was unacceptable, but what else could I do?
It was during those days of doubt that I suddenly had an idea. I surmised that if I couldn’t prove Heaven existed, how about proving that Hell did. My logic was quite simple, if I could prove that Hell existed it would validate my opinion that Heaven must exist as well. The more I thought about it, the more I believed that that was the only course left to me. So now, I had to prove the existence of Hell as a place rather than an idea, and knowing a lot about the occult I had quite a few places to start from.
I visited an old friend who had the most extensive library of ancient texts anywhere in the world, and all to do with Hell. He was only too pleased to allow me access to his collection, once I told him what I was doing. He already believed that Hell was a place you could visit, but didn’t have the courage to find out for sure.
He did come in handy however, because he directed me to a text that talked about bargaining one’s soul with the devil. I didn’t think I wanted to go that far, so I kept on looking for anything else that might prove useful. In the end though, I came back to that first piece of text repeatedly until finally I decided that I would read it and find out the truth.
It spoke of an ancient sorcerer who devised a way of summoning demons within a pentagram, a pentagram that made it impossible for the demon to cross into our world and was obliged to answer whatever questions the sorcerer asked. The text went on to say that, the demon had to speak the truth, or he couldn’t return to Hell.
At the bottom of this text was a very rough picture of the pentagram in question, and the words to summon the demon with. Fortunately I didn’t have to depend on the picture itself as it had faded over time and wasn’t that legible, as there was also a written description of how to draw it and what to use.
I talked all of this over with my friend first, wanting him to know what I was doing in case something bad happened to me. He tried to talk me out of it, as he was convinced that I was messing with things I didn’t understand. I assured him that I knew what I was doing, and he helped me set the pentagram up in the basement. I think if the truth were known he was interested in what would happen.
The pentagram turned out to be the easy part of all this, as it consisted of merely a chalk drawing on the floor and candles positioned on each of the triangular points. The final addition was a large candle directly in the middle of the drawing, which, according to the text was the vocal point of the underworld, whatever that meant.
When that was done I studied the words needed to summon a demon, but I won’t write them down here. I know that there are people in this world who would think to use these words for their own nefarious ends, and in the wrong hands, this could prove fatal. When I was sure I had the words memorized, I began the incantation.
I spoke the words three times in a loud commanding voice, as directed by the text and stood back. The lit candle in the center of the drawing flickered and was then snuffed out, leaving behind a wisp of smoke that rose from the center and billowed outwards. I knew that something supernatural was occurring, as the small wisp seemed not to be able to break the circles edge.
Then a large amount of gray thick smoke came from the dead candle and filled the pentagram, and in seconds, the area between the floor and the ceiling was filled with it. It looked like some invisible tube was stopping it from going anywhere other than up, and when that stopped we tried to peer into the smoke itself but could see nothing.
Gradually the smoke thinned out and we could at last see the form of something standing inside the circle.
“You summoned me?” said a deep voice from within.
I waited until the smoke had thinned some more, and then almost laughed at what we were left with. It was a small Guy, who didn’t exactly look menacing. In fact, the only distinguishing features that set him apart from us was his size and the two small horns piercing the top of his head.
“Who am I addressing?” I said, standing close to the pentagram.
“My name is of no importance,” he replied.
Now I knew that the name was important, as the text had told me so, it gave the person who summoned the demon a certain power. What this power entailed was not revealed but clearly, the demon knew.
“I say again, who am I addressing?” I repeated, looking him straight in the eye.
The demon studied me closely and then spotted the text I’d been using on the chair a few feet away; he seemed to recognize the script and smiled.
“My name is Bale, a minor demon from the fourth sector,” he suddenly replied, “so why have you summoned me?”
“I need to ask a question, a question that will determine my very existence,” I replied, taking note of his expressions, “I need to know if it is possible to tour Hell and to come back safely as well as sound of mind?”
He seemed to be studying me at that point, wanting to question my sanity maybe, but then he answered my question.
“It is possible, but the payment for such a venture would probably be too much for you,” he replied.
“What would that payment be?”
“Your soul, nothing short of your soul would get you into Hell before your time,” replied the demon.
Of course, I already knew that that would be the answer, so I pondered on what my reply would be.
“I’ll do it, provided I get to see and deal with the Devil himself?” I said.
“My Master is the only one who could make this deal anyway, but first he will need to know with whom he is dealing and the reasons for such a deal?” said the demon.
I went on to explain who I was and why I needed this deal, and although intrigued the demon merely stated that he understood and would relay my message as soon as he got back. He further told me to summon a demon the same time tomorrow, and that his Master would reply to the call. I then read out the dispel part of the text, and the demon was gone.
My friend was angry with me once the demon had vanished; he’d listened with disbelief in the shadows. It was also evident that he was excited about what had happened, and that it validated his knowledge about Hell. It did exist as a place and not just an idea set down on paper many years before.
That validation wasn’t good enough for me though, I had to see Hell
with my own eyes to believe that such a place existed, and in extension Heaven itself, was somewhere people like my parents would go when their time was up. The following hours were of a heated discussion, and one that both scared me and held me in awe as to what may lie ahead.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night, as my thoughts and conscious mind berated me for wanting to make such a deal. I had to keep telling myself that I was a man of my word, and that this was something I needed to know. Not just for myself however, I wanted the world to find out what had occurred. I rationalized that if every living soul on this planet knew that Hell existed they would surly believe that Heaven too was a destination awaiting them if they chose the right path in life.
The following day saw the time coming near to when I would summon the demon again, and with excitement and a certain amount of apprehension I read out the words once more on the text. The same things that had happened the day before started all over again, only this time when the smoke cleared a tall man with prominent horns stood where Bale had been the previous day.
“I will assume that I am addressing Geoffrey Morgan?” said the imposing figure.
“You are sir; I assume Bale has told you what I want and why I want it?” I replied.
“He has, but before I grant you your request, I need to set some ground rules and negotiate the terms of the agreement,” he replied, standing up straight.
We then went into an in-depth discussion on the terms and settlement of this agreement, and although I came away feeling that I had made a good deal, I couldn’t help wondering what mistakes, if any, I had blundered into. I would have ten years to write down all that I witnessed and at the end of ten years my soul would be forfeit. I would then be the property of Hell, or at least my soul would be. I also negotiated a guide, someone pleasant who could direct me and show me the most important aspects of Hell. Once all of that was out of the way, the Devil told me what to do next, and not to stray from the path set out by my guide.
When he was gone I took the chalk and drew a door on the wall of the basement as instructed, I was then to knock three times on this imaginary door and call out the name Sonia before asking for an audience. Before knocking though I told my friend to leave the basement, I didn’t want anything happening to him, as that would play on my mind for the rest of my life. I couldn’t be the cause of someone I admired being harmed in any way due to my own need to know.
He left after saying farewell, and told me to be careful. I then knocked on the door three times, called out Sonia’s name and asked for an audience. At first, nothing happened, but then the ground started to shake, almost making me lose balance and fall over. Suddenly the marks of chalk that framed the imaginary door appeared to crack, and as soon as all the chalk had cracked, the door opened.
Stepping through the doorway a few seconds later stood the most attractive woman I’d ever seen. She had a slender figure and long legs, and her breasts were magnificent. Her face was almost angelic and the clothes she wore almost appeared to be sprayed on as they fit her so well. She wore jeans, which is something I didn’t expect to see, and a low cut top that had its job cut out for it, holding those beautiful orbs in place.
“Geoffrey isn’t it?” she said with a sweet voice.
“Yes that’s me, I said stepping forward. I assume you will be my guide?” I replied, hoping that that was indeed the case.
“Yes…I am Sonia, High Priestess of the Succubae, I am at your service for the duration of your stay,” she replied, in a matter of fact sort of way.
“Well, I certainly couldn’t ask for a more attractive guide,” I replied, making it obvious that I was ready to go.
She didn’t respond to that compliment, instead, she just turned and led the way. Before we passed the doorway though, she warned me that I might feel strange at first, as there was a spell on and around me that would protect me from anything we might encounter.
I didn’t know what she meant until I placed a foot over the doorway, and suddenly felt extremely nauseous, so much so in fact that after just three more steps I had to lean against the dark wall for fear of collapsing.
“It will pass in a few minutes, and you will be able to venture further. In the meantime take some deep breaths, and drink some of this,” said Sonia, handing me a flask from seemingly nowhere.
I took a gulp of the liquid offered only to find it was water, and not some ancient elixir that would make me incredibly strong, or something fanciful like that. Within a couple of minutes, I was feeling able to carry on. After thanking her for the drink and handing it back, we set off down a long corridor that was lit by torches twenty feet apart, and which inclined downwards at a steady rate.
She wasn’t much of a talker, but she did answer any question that I posed. Just then I looked back to see how far we had come, and there in the doorway was a figure slumped on the floor.
“Who is that?” I asked, pointing back.
“That is you, at least the corporeal part of you. Only the essence of your humanity is allowed inside Hell, what you felt during the transition was the separation of your inner being as it passed into this domain,” she explained, quite eloquently.
I knew I should have asked more questions when I made this deal, but as I still felt myself I didn’t see that it mattered much. I just nodded my approval and off we set yet again.
When we’d walked far enough so that the basement was no longer visible, I asked how much further.
“We have some way to go before entering the first part of Hell, that part is the Lame Section,” said Sonia.
“The Lame Section...what does that mean?”
“When a mortal dies on earth, their soul automatically leaves their body. If it is good it will float upward to Heaven, if it is bad it sinks towards Hell. If the soul is in balance, that is neither good nor bad it is collected by the Reaper who takes it to Purgatory. Souls that find their way to the Lame Section of Hell are only just bad say by 49 or 48% so they still have a lot of good in them. These wretches regret not doing more in life to secure themselves a place in Heaven, and wander aimlessly trying to find redemption for those few extra points,” explained Sonia.
It all seemed sad to me that a person’s position in the afterlife was dictated to by how they lived their lives on earth, which made my mission all the more important. If I could get it across in my writings that how we live in life makes all the difference this deal would be worth the sacrifice.
We carried on walking, and I kept asking questions to which Sonia had all the answers. About an hour later, we’d arrived at the first stage of our journey. The tunnel we’d been traversing, suddenly opened up into a wide-open expanse of a dark and foreboding land, with people everywhere aimlessly wandering the open expanse of this dreary looking place.
There were hundreds of fires scattered throughout this land. All lighting it up and revealing shadows of the people that sat around them. Above were clouds, ominous and dark, interspersed between which were stars, but as we were so deep underground, I couldn’t help wondering how this could be?
“What you see above is mere illusion, placed there by my Master, that they might see what could have been if only they’d heeded the calling of Him that cannot be named,” said Sonia, before I could ask the question.
I assumed she was referring to the Almighty, and that somehow looking up into the night sky revealed a place they knew as Heaven. It would forever be a reminder that they turned their backs on God, and went through life with blinders on. I felt a deep sorrow for these people, knowing that they had almost made it to the gates of Heaven, but being punished for the rest of eternity for not doing so.
We walked amongst them shortly afterwards, as Sonia led the way to our next destination. I took note of those we passed, having some idea of how they must feel. Most of them ignored our approach, but some made it a point to intercept us.
“Turn away from the path you have chosen,” said one old man, as we walked by.
I looked at him and coul
dn’t help wondering if only he’d preached so much in the real world perhaps he wouldn’t be here now. Sonia didn’t seem to notice any of the wretches she just kept on walking.
“Tell me something Sonia, do you have the capacity to feel remorse down here, for anything that you see and do?” I asked.
“In Hell you have to decide what your priorities are going to be, if you dwell on thinking how things could’ve been you end up wallowing in self-pity for the rest of eternity. If, like me, you accept the status quo you find some semblance of a normal life. I actually enjoy my role here in Hell, as strange as that may seem but then I’m more privileged than most as I get to go top side from time to time,” she replied, neither caring nor understanding how the wretches around us must be feeling.
I let the conversation end there as I could see a large gate up ahead. It was guarded by two Hell Hounds that stood a good five foot from the ground up. They both looked at me as we approached, and their teeth were bared, as we got nearer.
Sonia put her hand up as we approached their position, and suddenly they sat down and faced forward. The large gate then opened, and we walked through without incident. I couldn’t help looking at their large bodies as we passed by, and I knew that should anyone command them to rip me apart they would have no trouble doing so.
The tunnel we now found ourselves in narrowed and inclined once again and I knew we had another long walk ahead of us.
“What is the next section called?” I asked.
“Contemptuous,” was her short reply.
“Contemptuous?” I echoed, awaiting more of an explanation.
“The souls you will see there are contemptuous of anyone and anything, they do not believe they deserve to be in Hell and refuse to accept it. These souls think they are above the Devil, and will not accept their fate,” replied Sonia.
