The Devil in Disguise

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Who really is the Devil? For all we know he may walk among us as any normal person might.

Submitted: September 30, 2017

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Submitted: September 30, 2017



“The Devil in Disguise”


“The soul goes around on a wheel of stars and all things return. Good and evil go around on a wheel. Realize this in your heart, believe all of your beliefs, there is only one reality and we are its shadows”. -Richard Cavendish “The Black Arts”



Nothing can hide the wickedness and evil in this world. People can deny the inevitable but I know first- hand how evil really works, what’s worse is I’ve stared evil straight in the face while being certain my life was about to end.

Standing over my grandmothers’ casket was a very somber and ironic experience. Six months prior to her death she gazed upon my grandfathers’ lifeless, cold corpse as she kissed his forehead gently and said her final goodbyes. Little did my grandmother know that six short months later deaths tables would turn and she would finally find out what is on the other side. They both meant the world to me so I must admit it took everything within my soul not to break down at the sight my eyes were now fixed on. In the midst of my bereaving I felt a hand land on my shoulder. “She was one of a kind Hunter”, said the man. I turned around to face a tall, slender middle-aged man. “Who are you”? I asked in a hasty, stand-offish manner. “How rude of me, please accept my dearest apology. "My name is Malik Johnson, I am the pastor at the church your grandmother attended”. I fully stared into his eyes, examining him up and down, his eyes and demeanor were strangely dark and a bit un nerving. “Wait. How do you know who I am Pastor Johnson”? I asked. “Hunter your grandmother has told me all about you”, said Pastor Johnson. We both agreed it would be in our best interest to discuss the details at another time, besides, I still had a grieving family to attend to. “Pastor Johnson, will you be attending the service tomorrow”? I asked. “Hunter not only will I be attending, I will be officiating the service on behalf of your grandmothers last wish”, said Pastor Johnson. As he cut his eyes at me Malik Johnson walked away until he was out of sight. Little did I know that even though he was out of sight he would be far from out of mind.

That night as I tried so desperately to sleep I couldn’t help but toss and turn with so many questions racing through my mind. Who was this man and why, out of every family member, was he targeting me? Just as I finally slipped off into sleep my alarm clock went off. I sluggishly got out of bed and began getting ready for my grandmothers’ funeral. Dressed in all black I hopped in my car and headed for the funeral home. The entire time I spent driving I couldn’t help but notice an all blacked out Chevy Tahoe following me. I pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home along with the Tahoe and just as I suspected Pastor Johnson stepped out. “Well hi there Hunter”, said Pastor Johnson. “Hi”, I said back with an un-interested tone. He insisted that we walk in together but I re-assured him that would not be necessary, as I still had to be with my family before everyone else started to show up for the funeral.

The funeral was quite strange, nothing like I would’ve expected it to be. I expected the pastor to preach of glorious and beautiful outcomes of death and of Heaven. The pastor only mentioned once about Heaven or even God for that matter. He mostly stuck to the subject of spirits and how life keeps going on whether we went to Heaven or Hell. This struck me as a little odd considering how strong my grandmothers’ faith was in Heaven, despite my thoughts I kept my mouth shut during the entire service. After the service and lowering of the casket I pulled Pastor Johnson aside before he had time to reach his vehicle. “What the hell was that”?! I exclaimed with anger. Pastor Johnson looked at me and rolled his eyes hastily. “Why don’t you come back over to my place Hunter and I’ll explain everything in detail for you”, said Pastor Johnson. I agreed and followed him back to his home which, inevitably was his church. The church was strange looking. There were no visible Bible verses and no religious paintings or pictures to be seen anywhere. There was, however, long black curtains hiding every window in the sanctuary and a book in every section of every pew. This book did not look at all familiar to me so I picked it up to further examine it. “Oh my God”, I said as I threw the book back down. It was a Bible alright, a Satanic Bible.

Before I could turn around I felt a hand forcefully push me to the ground. I opened my eyes to find myself in a cold, dark and horrible smelling room. My head ached with a dull and sharp pain all over. I didn’t understand at first where I was or how I got there, that was until Pastor Johnson came walking down the stairs with rope and duct tape in his hands. Walking closer towards me he lowered his head giving an evil look as he confessed who he really was, a satanic cult leader. “My dear Hunter”, he said as he sat down beside me. “You have the opportunity of a lifetime, a lifetime of power, a lifetime of getting whatever it is you desire right at the tips of your fingers. All you have to do is join our cult. Sell your soul to the Devil and rule your own little world forever”. , said Pastor Johnson. “Are you crazy”? I asked. “Well to each his own opinion”, said Pastor Johnson. “There’s no way my grandmother attended this madness that you call a church”, I said as I spit in his direction. With a hard slap to the face I fell over as he started to bound my hands to a pole and tape my mouth shut. “You stupid little twerp, don’t you dare ever disrespect me like that again! You obviously don’t understand what or who you are dealing with!” he yelled. He walked back up the stairs to return with a box cutter, machete and two other people dressed in hooded, blood red robes.

I began to panic as the hooded people along with Malik Johnson closed in on me. I was certain that this was it, I was about to die. I noticed markings on the insides of the hooded people’s hands, it looked as if it were a pentagram burned deeply into their palms. “Let me make one thing clear, your grandmother was a part of our cult and one day woke up with a change of heart. This cult is not a joke Hunter and if someone tries to betray us well…. As you can see, they don’t live to tell about it”, said Malik. “Murderer “! I yelled at them. “No no no Hunter, unfortunately your grandmothers’ cancer beat us to the punch. We know how close you were to her, she talked about you constantly while she was a part of this cult. With all that being said, we now have to go for the next best thing to her and that would be you. You have two choices you can either join us or die”, said Malik. I sat there in a brief moment of silence with fear running through my head and my heart pounding. “Okay, I’ll join”, I said. “Very good choice”, said Malik as he smirked a devilish grin at me. I felt knots forming in my stomach. I knew I didn’t belong here and I knew more than anything that I didn’t want to be here. “Now we shall begin the initiation process, your first assignment will be murder and you will bring the body to me”, said Malik as he untied my hands and removed the rest of the duct tape from my mouth. “Yes, we shall”, I said. I followed along with Malik’s instructions only briefly enough to plan my next move. While Malik and his cult followers’ backs were turned I quickly grabbed the machete and began to swing. I cut the first cult followers hand off then finished him off by slicing his throat from side to side. Malik saw what was happening and begin to reach for his gun, fortunately I was quick enough to slice him in half before he was successful. There was one more cult follower left and this one was by far the toughest. We went round and round the room exchanging blows and me barely cutting him, every time I went to swing the machete he was too fast and moved out of its way. Finally I backed him up into the wedge of a pipe sticking out of the wall and killed him. Killing him was not enough for me, not after everything that happened to me that night, I rose the machete cutting his head clean off. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked at all of the blood and carnage surrounding me. I dropped the machete and walked out of the so called church.

“Hunter… Hunter”! I turned around to see my mom snapping her fingers as if trying to snap me out of a trance. “What in the world are you doing? You’ve been staring at your grandmothers casket for the past twenty minutes”, said mom. I was deeply confused, what in the hell just happened? I looked down at my grandmother peacefully laying in her casket. I had to know the truth, I flipped her hands over and started to remove the makeup. There it was, the markings of the cult. “Hunter what are you doing are you crazy?” shouted mom. “Look at this”! I yelled. “Look at what, they’re just her hands Hunter” said mom as she grabbed my shoulder pulling me away. Mom did not see anything on her hands and when I looked back neither did I. I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up when I felt another hand on my shoulder. When I turned around I saw a tall, slender middle-aged man looking back at me. “She was one of a kind Hunter”, said the man. I couldn’t believe my eyes, standing before me was Pastor Malik Johnson looking straight into my eyes with an evil grin on his face.

© Copyright 2019 M. H. Davis. All rights reserved.

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