Hell Found Me (Short Story)

HELL FOUND ME

  By Matthew Holley

  Hell found me. In desperation, feeling like I had nowhere else to turn, I invited hell to help. The price I was asked to pay for hell’s miracle was too much for me. I tried to run but it was like trying to run from my own shadow. This is my strange yet true story.

  My name is Jake Conrad. A few years ago, I found myself sitting on a red, cushioned bench of a confessional booth at St. Mary’s Cathedral. I was bent over with both elbows on my knees and my face in my hands desperately looking for answers from Father Mathis who was in the next booth. Our only way of communicating with one another was through a veil-covered square opening joining both booths. It had been awhile since I had seen the inside of a confessional booth… since I was a teenager. Now, a man of thirty was back in the come-clean-of-all-your-sins booth. I remember, at the time, sitting on that bench, I felt well over one hundred from all the years of running from my demons.

  “What do you mean that hell has found you?” Father Mathis asked in a very monotone voice. He didn’t sound like himself…almost distant. But it had been years since the last time I heard his voice. I’m sure I didn’t sound like I did the last time I spoke to him.

  “Father, I did something five years ago that has haunted me every day since and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell me my son. Nothing you say to me will leave this church. You have my word as your priest. Confess to me your sins.”

  I hesitated even telling a priest my story for I could be thought insane and be locked up inside the local mental institution for telling such a crazy tale, but I was desperate for a solution. I was willing to take the risk of being labeled “crazy”.

  “I…I sold my soul to the devil!”

  Much to my surprise, the priest didn’t run out of his booth to call the “crazy house” or start laughing hysterically at me. Instead, he asked me to tell him the whole story. I took a deep breath and began to tell a story I had not told a single soul. Who would have believed me? Here is what I told him.

  A little over five years ago, I was married to my sweet and loving wife, Sarah. I loved her more than I thought I could love anyone. Then, she gave birth to my son, Paul, and my ability to love magnified beyond my imagination. He and my wife were my whole world so when we got the news that Paul had childhood leukemia, my whole world got turned up-side-down!

  The doctors and all the specialists did everything they knew to do for my son, but regrettably they could not stop the spread of this killer. One evening, Paul’s doctors told my wife and me to say our goodbyes for they did not expect our son to make it through the night. We held on to our son and to each other most of that night, crying and praying to God, as we had for months, that He would save our son, but our son’s situation did not change. He was dying.

  At around two in the morning, my wife had reluctantly left the hospital room to find a restroom. I looked down at my dying son. He was so pale…so fragile… and looking at those intrusive tubes running into his nose and mouth and realizing the end was near, I felt an anger build within me like I had never experienced. I stood up in the middle of that hospital room and began yelling at God and cursing him for not lifting a finger to save my son. Why was God, who was supposed to be so full of mercy and love, allowing my son to die? What did my son do to deserve this?

  After cursing God for all I was worth, I knelt down at the foot of my son’s bed, exhausted, and began sobbing and pleading for someone to help him…anyone! Suddenly, I felt the room grow colder. At first I just thought the air conditioner had kicked on, but then the florescent lights inside the room grew intensely bright for a few seconds, causing me to have to shield my eyes, and then they went dark. The only light in the room was from the faint illumination of the medical instruments that were keeping my little boy alive. I then felt a presence in the room… a dark presence…one that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a cold shiver run down my spine. I somehow knew I was in the presence of evil.

  I jumped back a little, startled, when I thought I saw a shadowy figure standing in the far corner of the room. I strained to see if it was just my imagination or if indeed there was something or someone in the room with me. Then, I heard him. He spoke in a low whisper that filled the room as if it was coming from every direction: in front, behind, from above, I didn’t know which. His voice filled my very soul with fear like I had never known and, for an instant; all I wanted to do was run but I couldn’t move. I was petrified with fear, plus I couldn’t leave my son alone with this evil.

  “What is it that you seek?” the voice asked me.

  At first, I wasn’t able to speak. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. My mouth was so very dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my heart pounded in my chest so hard, it nearly drowned out the voice echoing in the small room.

  “What is it you seek?” the voice repeated but louder this time.

  I finally found my ability to speak although my voice trembled in my throat.

  “I want my son to live!” I told the shadowy voice.

  “I can save your son, but for a price.”

  “If you can save my son, I’ll give you anything!”

  “All I ask from you is your soul!”

  I soon realized just who I was dealing with. I had no doubt in my mind. From all the movies I’ve seen and all the books I’ve read, I knew of only one person who asks for your soul. But this was no movie…this was real. He was real!

  I looked down at my son laboring for every breath he took. I could see his life draining from his frail body with each minute that passed. The doctors were right…he wouldn’t make it through the night. He was so helpless and I knew I had to save him no matter what the cost.

  “Save my son first and you can have whatever you want.”

  “It shall be done.”

  I woke up still kneeling at the foot of my son’s hospital bed. I knew it was morning because I could see rays of sunlight trying to enter the room through the curtains covering the windows. My wife was asleep in the chair next to my son’s bed. The event of my early morning visitor was still fresh in my head. Had I been dreaming? Did I really sell my soul to the devil or was it simply a dream… my brain’s irrational attempt to save my son.

  Then I heard it, or I should say, didn’t hear it. I didn’t hear the horrible sound of my son’s labored breathing. I looked at Paul and saw he was breathing normal and had a look of peace on his face. Gone were the visible signs of pain. His skin was no longer pale, but the color of youth. My eyes filled with tears and I had to swallow a lump swelling in my throat several times to keep from crying. Then it happened! My son opened his eyes and smiled at me!

  “Hi Dad.”

  When I heard his voice, I couldn’t stop my tears. I reached down and held Paul close to me and sobbed uncontrollably. My wife awoke, completely confused at the sight of Paul awake but, at the same time, hysterically happy. She joined us, hugging both of us and crying with joy. My son was all right and I didn’t need any doctor to confirm it… I knew. But the hospital wouldn’t release my son until they ran their tests and discovered what I already knew. Paul was free of his leukemia. No one knew how my son was miraculously free of his disease…no one but me.

  My wife and I took our boy home and loved him all day and all night. We reluctantly allowed him to go to bed and, after watching him long after he fell asleep, eventually went to bed ourselves finding it hard to fall asleep due to the excitement of knowing that our boy was home safe and healthy again. My wife praised God for the miracle. I couldn’t tell her it was not Him that deserved the credit. Sleep eventually did find us.

  I was awakened a few minutes after midnight by a sound coming from down st
airs. I slowly made my way down stairs to investigate. I tiptoed into the den without having to turn on any lights thanks to my wife’s insistence that a nightlight be placed in every room of the house. As I stood in the middle of the den, I scanned the room, straining my eyes to find the source of the noise that I had heard.

  Suddenly, the room grew cold and an all too familiar shiver ran down my spine. It hadn’t been a dream like I had hoped… he was back. My sinister visitor from the hospital room was back.I noticed the shadowy figure standing in the corner like he did in the hospital room, but, this time, I saw two fiery red eyes shining back at me. My horror level rose to unimaginable heights! Then, I heard his voice again echoing through the dark.

  “I’ve come for what is mine!”

  I stood there in silence hoping that by not responding somehow he would just leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he told me what I already knew.

  “I’ve come for your soul. Relinquish your soul to me!”

  I remember finding it odd that he didn’t just take my soul. Why was he telling me to give it to him? I decided to stand my ground on shaking legs.

  “No, if you want it, take it!”

  “Surrender your soul to me! It is mine!”

  I just stood there and didn’t say another word, hoping he would leave and