Chapter 9
"Acquit me or condemn me, I shall never alter my ways." - Socrates
The demons cringed and hid when John and Orpheus exited the office. John stood in the building entry, observing them, wondering where to begin. There had to be some judicious way of sorting them out. If they knew answering the questions the right way would allow them to stay, they would simply use subterfuge – lie.
"If you feel you don’t deserve to be in Hell, stand over there," John directed, pointing to an area in the street right of him. Orpheus chuckled. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, the demons migrated to the indicated spot. Soon they were all there. "Oh, God!" John exclaimed. "This is going to be difficult."
"If you want to be a better person and help others be better, step to the left," John directed.
They began to murmur and shout, "What is this, a church! Is Buddha going to make a showing? How about Jesus? Are you nominating saints? Are we being judged? Isn’t it bad enough here, you gotta’ torture us with this? Give us work, man!"
John let the group murmur and shout until it finally quieted down. Three demons hesitantly left the group and migrated slowly toward the other side. The other demons laughed at the three, who began to look downcast and slowly sank to their knees. A number of the others walked to them and began to pee on them. The three sank into a puddle of urine, not resisting. The other demons caught the fever and followed suit.
John observed wordlessly. Finally he said, "Orpheus, I want those three brave souls who stood up for what they want." Orpheus began to walk toward the larger group. With each step, he grew a foot taller, until when he reached the group, he was 30 feet tall, metallic black, casting a shadow over them, and lightening began to shoot from him to form a circle around the group. The demons froze in place, terrified, unable to step away without being struck by lightning.
Orpheus wrapped his arms around the group of demons, lifted them, and walked forward. An opening formed in front of him. He stepped out, and the opening closed.
John approached the three demons, who eyed him warily. "You’ve been given a last chance. We will allow you to stay here and help with the community, just like these others. I’m not your judge, but if you become intolerable, you saw what happens." Each of the three nodded acceptance. "What are your names?"
They responded: "Jerry." "Persiphus." "Tariq."
"Persiphus, how long have you been here?"
Persiphus
"They tell me 2500 years. Maybe more. No one knows for sure – history is incomplete."
"And yet you speak perfect English?"
Jerry spoke up. "Of course. All demons speak all historical and current languages. We have very little to do but learn them."
Persiphus continued, "And talk, and talk, and talk.... It's so depressing."
John looked back at William, Mary, and Cat, who were staring out the window, and frowned. "Hmm, why am I being drowned in Old English?" He turned back to the three demons. "Persiphus, 2500 years is a long time. Why haven’t you decayed into ashes?"
Persiphus stood erect, with the look of a man who was shamed, but still proud. "I cannot accept that fate. I was a good soldier and I obeyed my King. Yes, I did some very bad things, and my skin is stained dark as ashes to show for it. But I obeyed my King and my commanders, and I killed and tortured until I was killed at 23 years of age. I can only hope that I can be redeemed."
Killing was one thing. Torturing was another. Did he dare bring in people who were skilled in torture? He remembered stories of undercover FBI agents who had tortured, and how it got out of hand. Yet this man had been ordered to do it. Was this different? "Maybe you can learn to enjoy helping build a community, and not torture anyone." At that, Persiphus smiled at John.
John turned to Jerry. "What’s your story, Jerry?"
Jerry
Jerry was blunt. "I was a thief, plain and simple. I never killed anyone. But I am proud that I never did a kind thing for anyone who didn’t do the same for me. I sold drugs, and someone died because of it. I really didn’t care about the loser. Another man shot me when I cheated at gambling. They tell me the reason I‘m here is because I have no love for anyone except myself."
"Well, that sounds obvious." Here was a man who had helped destroy others' lives, and felt no remorse about it. He had no love for anyone. Together with Persiphus, they could start a gang that tortured and killed people for fun. What was Peira thinking? These weren't the worst of the worst, but would they function in a community, or wreck it. He wondered why these men were changing into demons and rotting into ashes, but William, who had killed many, was not.
John realized in that moment the grand limitation of all men. No one could see others hearts. No matter what, he could not judge. One man's crimes, and another's, were not measures of the condition of their hearts. All he could do was let them show themselves, and decay or live.
"Jerry, do you think you can change?"
Jerry laughed. "Why change? I like me just the way I am. I don’t go out of my way to hurt anyone – I’m not a bad person. You let me stay here, and I’ll do to others whatever they do to me. I mean, do for others whatever they do for me." He paused. "Maybe I mean both."
John frowned. "You’re on thin ice. We’ll see." Jerry laughed.
"Tariq?" John inquired.
"I didn’t do nothing. I don’t know why I’m here."
"Hmm," John mused. "I’m sure the tale will unravel. Did you dispatch any infidels to Hell?"
Tariq looked at John with hatred. "Did the white man dispatch any Native Americans to Hell when they landed? Did the white man dispatch any Muslims to Hell when they occupied Arab lands? Or Africans? Or Mayas? Or a thousand other lands that weren’t theirs?"
John knew this was raw, blind hatred that would continue to fester and boil over. "I didn’t do those things, and if you are still fighting those wars, you’re not going to find them here, and you should leave."
Tariq stood defiantly. "If you were American, you did them."
Persiphus was becoming agitated, and looked dangerous. Tariq was undoubtedly going to cause trouble that they didn't need. "Orpheus!" John shouted.
Tariq continued. "Yeah, just go ahead and bring in the big guns like you Americans always do. Shout slogans like you are doing something honorable. And then your God throws us out. Just like always, the whole thing is unfair. Go ahead!"
Persiphus drew a sword. "Persiphus! No!" John shouted. Tariq suddenly inflated into a giant, horned, scaly, monster, with bulbous fiery eyes, hideous claws, and pointed fangs, and lashed at them with a long, forked tongue. He lunged for both John and Persiphus.
Persiphus inflated, looking like a similar monster. He swung his sword and slashed Tariq’s head off. In a deep, gravelly voice he screamed, "Ungrateful beast – go back to Hell! You don’t deserve to be here!"
Tariq’s head rolled on the ground, but he continued shouting, "You’re all infidels! You deserve to be here more than I. This is a place of torture, you’ll see! You will suffer eternally for your crimes!"
Jerry stood to the side as if this was nothing unusual. John shrank away. "Thanks, I think."
Persiphus deflated back into an ordinary ash colored demon, and smiled. "You’re welcome," he said, as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary.
Orpheus arrived, picked up Tariq’s head, which was still screaming threats, and threw it out, followed shortly after by his body. Without a word, Orpheus then disappeared.
"Please don’t kill anyone else, OK?" he said to Peresiphus.
"I was just defending you. The good news is, you can’t actually kill anyone here, you know. That’s the best thing Hell offers me – I can’t kill."
John nodded. What other response was there? Just then, Victor Gigantis came strolling down the street as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Jerry spied him.
"Hey, big guy. Want to play some poker?" Jerry shouted to him.
"What’s poker?" Victor replied.
"I’ll teach you," Jerry offered, with a smile.
John looked to Victor and the two demons. "Four people and two demons. We need more people."
Liars Truth Page 9
