Conversations with the Devil

Reads: 154  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The dream always starts the same…
I’m in the attic of an old house, find a hidden door and as much as I try not to,  am compelled open it.

Submitted: November 29, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 29, 2011



The dream always starts the same…

I’m in the attic of an old house, find a hidden door and as much as I try not to,  am compelled open it.

The entity is always there, and always mocking.

The deep guttural sound it makes as it calls to me fills my soul with a fear and despair that stays when I wake terrified with a sense that its has followed me into this world, watching, waiting in the shadows…

But this time its different.  I’m not frightened and appear to have a choice as to whether to open the door or not.  I choose to open it.


Behind the door is a very ordinary looking man…

He looks at me and smiles.  I know without any doubt who it is but am confused that I’m not paralysed with fear, and appear to have full control over my actions in this... ‘dream’.

He tries to talk.  I hit him hard in the face and he drops to the ground.  I stand there looking at him and as he tries to get up and I knock him down again.

He takes a tissue out to wipe the blood from his face then looks at me and says "May I get up now please?"


I don’t know what else to do…

I slowly step back to allow him to get up, he dusts himself down, straightens his clothes, looks at me and says “Well.”

Still in deep in shock I reply “Well what?”

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way shall we, begin?” he asks.

“Begin what!” I say getting more and more confused by the fact that I’m still in one piece and not burning or being torn apart by demons.

“Talking” he replies.

‘Stunned’ can now be added to the list of things I’m feeling right now.  I take a deep breath and try to slow my thoughts down…

“What do you want?” I ask him.

“Nothing” he says.

“Why are you here” I ask.

“Because  this is the time you have chosen.”


“This is the time I have chosen! what the hel... err what does that mean?”

“It means that ‘you’ have chosen this as the time for ‘us’ to talk.”

“Why would I choose to speak with you” I reply.

“Does it matter who answers your questions so long as it is the truth?”

Ok I say “Here's a question, who are you?”

Someone, 'something' I can't see to the left of me whispers in my ear "He is the most beloved of all gods angels."

"I have many names.  In heaven I am known as 'The Witness',  you know me as Lucifer."

Once again an unseen voice whispers in my ear and says " He was the only one to answer gods need for an angel to leave heaven forever."

And what are you ‘the witness’ to?" I ask.


“I am the witness to the evil that men commit” he replies...

“At the final reckoning all men must face the truth and consequences of their own actions.  My presence is alway felt by the people who, by their direct, indirect or lack of action cause pain, distress and suffering to others.  It is men who commit evil, not I.  I am the witness who must eternally suffer watching the pain of others.  I am the witness who is condemned by all as being the cause.  I am the witness who will show you the truth of what you have done to others.”

His words completely disarm me.  And as much as much as I try not to, my fear has been replaced by a deep sadness for the unimaginable suffering of the creature before me...


“So what is hell?” I ask him...

“Hell is the creation of those who blind themselves to the truth.  It is all encompassing and those souls who create their own hell, spend eternity in it, there is no escape.”

For some stupid reason I say “I don’t understand?”

He looks at me and smiles "I'll show you."

I’m in a faceless street in a nameless town.  Everything looks ‘exactly’ the same as the real world, whatever the real world may be... but everything is different, cold.  All I can see are people trying to continue with their everyday routine in some crazy mixed up way, all I can hear are people crying out in anguish and pain.  Here there is no empathy or compassion, love nor hope.  The balance of emotions we were blessed with to fully experience the beauty of life is gone and all that remains is an all encompassing sorrow for its loss, never easing, never ending, complete and eternal...

The church got it wrong, damnation isn’t about burning in the pit of hell, it is about eternally drowning in the tears of your own sorrow...  I have no hope.  I can’t stop crying.  I close my eyes...

...then open them to a scene of idyllic beauty.  We are both sat on a park bench on a hill overlooking a typical country meadow. It’s a  warm summers day and things couldn’t be more peaceful.  He allows me the time to compose myself and I sit there silent, as I make a list of the things I have to put right when, no, if I make it home.  Home, even the word itself seems a million miles away, but right now the thought of returning to it is the only thing keeping me going.

“Why did you leave me there for so long?” I ask him.

“One day is nothing compared to eternity.”

A long time passes before I speak again

“Why is this happening to me?”

“Because you are listening” he says

“Because I am listening! I don’t underst...  No, let me rephrase that.  I need you to explain ‘exactly’ why I'm here,  sat on a bench next to ‘you’ and and we are having 'this' conversation?”


“All souls born into this world have the ability to hear...”

“Whether they choose to listen is a matter of will and circumstance.  For you, both are in harmony at this precise moment in your existence.  Some may say you are blessed, some you are mad.  Others still that you are damned.  Either way, whether you choose accept or reject this knowledge and how it will effect you is your choice, and your choice alone.”

He's right, I know he's right, maybe it's because I'm rapidly approaching the BIG '5' '0' or maybe because I'd lost my father recently.  More likely it was a combination of these, and a few others thrown in for good measure, but for the first time in my life I was starting to feel the passage of time and had a sense that mine was was rapidly running out.  My overwhelming thought over the past few months was trying to figure out what my actual contribution to life has actually been.

"Ok, talking about choice, do I have choice to end this now?"

"This ends when you want it to."

"Am I in any danger?"

"Is your mortal existence in danger no, however, the questions you choose to ask give answers that will change 'you' and 'your' world forever.  Whether the changes are good or bad will be a matter of interpretation."

His words take away my immediate fears but not the fear and excitement of the choice before me.  Sometimes it best not to think too much, just follow your feeling, take a deep breath and...


“Can you show me heaven?”

“You are already in it, for heaven is the expression of gods thoughts made real.  Existence itself is part of gods will.”


“And what 'exactly' is gods will?”

“Gods only desire is for you to live, experience, learn and evolve. This entity is neither benevolent or malevolent, it is simply the first movement, or as you would put it 'Let there be light', there is more truth to this than you realise."

"Are you saying that we simply don't matter? There is no higher purpose.  That we are essentially alone in an uncaring universe?"

"Everything in existence is important and has a role to play in gods great plan.  The largest things in your universe are made up of the smallest particles in existence, the people you consider to have the most pointless lives act as examples to others on how not to live, and for souls to be able to develop there has to be an equal balance between right and wrong, success or failure on the decisions they make 'without intervention'.  The importance of existence is its structure and the framework it provides souls to develop in. 'Everything' is part of god and god has a purpose."

I feel strangely uncomfortable asking my next question but to be honest the word 'strange' doesn't come close to describing this entire situation so I ask it anyway...

"Is gods purpose the meaning of life?"


Ok, so far so good, let's just ask this outright and get it over with. Nothing ventured...


"What is the meaning of life?"

He smiles then says "I'll show you, look up."

With memories of hell still fresh in my mind, my heart sinks as I look upwards.  The sky goes black, pitch black.  "There's nothing up there" I say.

"Before the beginning, there was only god, a single sentient entity, nothing else" is his response.  Then the same someone or something I can't see whispers "Let there be light."

The sky explodes and I sit there with Lucifer mesmerised, watching the light of creation change down through the spectrum as it cools then collect into clusters that slowly start to turn.

"The first law of existence is all matter must be organised in harmonious structure," He says " it is the force that holds creation together, and the composition of the entity you know as god can be considered to be the perfect harmonious structure."

The clusters get bigger and I watch as 'stars' start to form in their centres.  The darkness is returning now but it's not empty anymore...

© Copyright 2018 glenndelikan. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Literary Fiction Short Stories