From Hell I Write
I write to you now, but I do not write from my room, with a bed so soft and a window so bright. I do not write from my home, with couches so comfortable and food so… so good. Oh, food, how I miss it. Water, too. If I could get one drop, oh how I would thank God… well, I’d thank someone for it, anyways. I do not write from my tree house, among friends so dear and chirping birds so near. I do not write even from the world you live in right now. No, I write from a place much, much worse. It’s ironic because during my last moments in the world, I couldn’t imagine any sort of place worse than the place we call Earth. I thought such a place couldn’t possibly exist. How wrong I was. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Patrick, and for you to understand my train of thought, I’ll need to take you back a little. Back to the world God (your God, no longer mine) put me on. Oh, the 80’s, what a time to be alive. Great movies, great music (somewhat), great friends, great family, great house, great life, great… sorry, I’m rambling. Eleven years old, that was me, living in a suburban home with my mother, Sarah, my dad, Vincent, my asshole 13-year-old twin brothers, Darren and Bryce, and of course, my five-year-old sister, Nancy. Come to think of it, I wonder how she’s doing right now, sweet little Nancy. She was always so precious, so innocent. I hope what we went through together never changed that. Anyhow, I can remember the day so clearly. I was playing a basketball game of two-on-one (I was the one) with Darren and Bryce. The two jerks were creaming me, of course, never hasting to shove me around and taunt me. “Patrick, you’re ass at this”, they would say. Well, of course I was “ass”, I was an eleven-year-old playing two-on-one against two thirteen-year-old pricks. Actually, you know something? I’m gonna stop calling them names. See, when you’re on Earth, it’s easy to call your family members names and quarrel with them constantly. Where I am now, though, you’d give anything just to hug them for five seconds and tell them how much you love them. Oops, I’m rambling, again. Well, soon enough, our mother called us in, as we were having some guests over that night. Our new neighbors. The new neighbors in question were the Hoffmister family. Up to that point, all I had heard my brothers say about the Hoffmisters were things like “They’re creepy as shit”, and “Weird-ass people who gotta go”. I didn’t share these opinions, they seemed like okay people to me. Nonetheless, the Hoffmisters came over that night. The family consisted of three. First there was 60-year-old Eileen, a skinny woman with short, gray hair, always wearing black dresses. Next, we had none other than 60-something-year-old Leo (don’t really remember that bastard’s age, nor do I care to), also extremely thin with a long nose that would make the pasty white guy on The Pink Panther Show jealous. Then there was David, their eleven-year-old insecure adopted son. I’m pretty sure Leo and David are in the same place I’m writing from right now, but I’m not certain. See, we don’t really get to speak with anyone else here. Anyways, it was quite an eventful evening. Eileen and Leo had tea with my parents while Darren, Bryce, David, and I hung out in our treehouse, playing cards. In the treehouse, I started to get to know David a little better. I must say, though, he seemed a bit on the weird side. He was pretty awkward when it came to discussing things such as where he moved from or what life at home was like. Still, he was a nice kid, just very shy. Later that night, when the sun went down, my brothers had already gone home, and David & I were walking down our streetlamp-lit road. That’s when he invited me to his house for a bit. It was a Friday night, so I figured it’d be okay. Let me say this: his house was big. It was the biggest in the neighborhood, down at the end of my street, sitting high on a hilltop as if it were better than all the others. Behind it was a large field that eventually merged into some woods, which lined the horizon. Entering David’s house, we walked into his kitchen, where he told me to take my shoes off so as not to upset his parents. I heard some footsteps upstairs, so I figured his parents must have gotten back from my house. We sat down at his counter, eating yogurt; with David continued to dodge my questions about his home-life, or just his life in general. All I knew was that he was adopted. Soon enough, I heard Eileen upstairs. “David, come upstairs, please!”, she said. David told me to stay put, as he’d only be a minute, and just like that, he was gone. I sat alone in their kitchen, finishing off my yogurt cup. I decided to get up and look around a bit to keep myself busy while David was upstairs doing whatever the hell he was doing. Looking at the fridge, I got a look at some of the pictures that were magnetized to it. These included family photos with the grinning faces of Eileen and Leo, and the frowning face of David. Why did David look so unhappy in all of these photos? Oh, and another thing, there was a photo on their fridge of some kid sitting on the floor of what looked like a cellar, just staring up at the camera with a blank face. Strange. I then walked over to a shelf in their living room, which was stocked with framed photos and figurines. Lots of self-portraits here, including one of Eileen, her expression blank, eyes looking very cold and lifeless. For some reason, it kinda reminded me of this portrait I’d seen once of the famous cowboy named Buffalo Bill. Same sort of stare and expression, and what not. Anyways, sorry, I don’t even know why that came to mind. I started looking at some of the figurines on the shelf. A Mickey Mouse doll, a monkey doll (this creeped me out), and a pentagram necklace. Oh, and there was also a crucifix necklace, but the cross was upside down. “What idiot messed that up?” I thought to myself. I then realized that David had been gone for a while, and I was getting a little bored with looking at peoples’ decorations. I decided to go upstairs and find him. Walking up the stairs, I began to hear some weird noises coming from one of the rooms upstairs. It sounded like chanting, and as I got to the top of the stairs I confirmed that it was. I looked down the upstairs hallway of the Hoffmister home, and saw that one of the rooms had a light on inside, the door open just a crack. As I walked toward the door, I could clearly hear Eileen and Leo chanting in some weird language I’d never heard before. I slowly crept toward the room, a decision I regret to this day. I pushed the door open slightly, just enough to see Eileen and Leo, on the floor on their hands and knees, bowing down to something that was just out of my view. I didn’t dare open the door any wider than I already had, even if it meant satisfying my curiosity to see what in blazes they were bowing down to. From my point of view, I could see a small cauldron, filled with a steamy liquid. Leo was blowing cigar smoke and spitting rum into this bowl. The whole atmosphere in the room was different, I don’t know how to really describe it. It was like I could feel the presence of someone else in there, but I couldn’t see them. Then, I saw David, in the back corner of the room, curled up in the fetal position, bawling his eyes out. He looked more terrified than anyone I’d ever seen (up to that point… now it’s a different story). David’s terror only grew when his mother (if you even wanna call that awful witch such a thing) stormed over to his corner of the room and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him up off of the ground in an attempt to get him to bow down to whatever they were bowing to. I could see his fear grow when he watched Leo pull a rooster out of a burlap sack and chop its head off in a brutal animal sacrifice. Then his face went white with horror as he realized how much trouble he was in when piss began running down his leg and onto the floor. That did it. Eileen began slapping David over and over and over again, angrily screaming at him. “You never, never, NEVER, do that in front of the Beast!” she screamed. The beating eventually stopped, and David was just a heaping mess in a puddle of his own tears and piss. This was when I decided that it was a good idea to get the hell out. I turned to exit, but in my haste I knocked over on of their many picture frames that lined a desk upstairs. I winced when this happened, knowing that it was about a 99.99% probability that the devious couple down the hall heard it. I rushed down the stairs as quick as I could, nearly tripping myself. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out. Still, poor David. I wished I could have done something to help. Grabbing the door handle, I prepared to make a hasty exit out the front door of that dreaded house. Then, I stopped dead in my tracks. Holy shit, please tell me… yep. My shoes were still in the kitchen. I ran for dear life toward the kitchen, locking on to my shoes like a missile. I grabbed them. Yes! “Hello, Patrick.” No. I looked up to see Eileen, standing on the upstairs balcony, looking down over me with an overly friendly expression on her face. I was frozen in place. Do I run? No, that will just look stupid. Also, she’ll know I saw what those creeps were doing up there. “H-h-hey,” I managed to utter out. “I didn’t realize you were still here,” said Eileen, in a much too friendly manner. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” I said. “No need to apologize,” she said, “but it is getting quite late. You should get home. Don’t need your parents coming over here, now do we?” No we don’t, I thought to myself. I managed to stammer out some stupid reply, before saying goodbye and rushing to their front door, bursting out of it. I’m never going back there, I thought to myself. If only that were true…. As I ran home, I looked back at the house, and what I saw chilled me to the bone. In one of the bedroom windows was Eileen, just standing there, staring at me. When she saw me look, she raised her hand and waved. That was it. She knew what I saw. Dammit. Well, I ran home as fast as my feet could take me. I immediately told my brothers. Told them about the beatings, the chanting, the cauldron, and Eileen repeatedly addressing someone (or something) in the room by the names “The Beast” and “Lucifer”. Well, my stupid brothers proceeded to spread the story around the whole entire school until everyone knew. Everybody knew that David’s parents were the freaky witches at the end of the street. Exaggerated and blown out of proportion, the story spread like wildfire. David refused to talk to me, knowing it had to have been me who spread the rumors. I felt horrible for him, but I didn’t know what to do. I was too afraid to get the police or child services after what I saw at that house. I was too young to know that was what I had to do and that it was not a choice. I tried to push the whole thing into the back of my mind. That was until Halloween night, a few weeks later. Ah, good old All Hallows Eve. It was one of my favorite holidays ever. That Halloween night, I was doing what every kid should be doing; trying to pack as much candy as humanly possible into one pillowcase in one night. My friends and I were trying to hit all the local neighborhoods so we’d be able to mow down candy for months. However, my plans were ruined when we ran into my brothers and their devious, loud-mouthed friends. My brothers took me aside and told me I had no choice but to show them the window of the room I had seen the Hoffmisters doing their deeds in. There was no arguing my way out of it, and I soon found myself back at that dreaded place. My brothers, their friends, and I stood in the Hoffmisters’ yard on the side of their house. In the driveway were moving trucks. I wasn’t surprised, those people had been humiliated. I was actually really happy these creeps wouldn’t be living down the street from where I sleep anymore. My brother, Darren, confirmed that they were moving away because of the rumors. Well, before I knew it, my brothers were forcing me to climb a tree to get a better look into the window on the side of the house. They wanted to see if there was anything bat-shit crazy that would be visible in it, and of course being the pushover I was, I climbed that tree. It seemed like all was going well, until the light in the window shut off. This was the first sign that something was wrong. However, before I could get down from the tree and tell my brothers to piss off, we all heard the front door open. Of course, my brothers and their friends took off, leaving me up in the tree. Eileen must have heard them, because the next thing I knew, she was prowling the side of the house and examining the muddy footprints left by my brothers and their friends. This is it, I thought. I’m gonna accidentally snap a branch or fall or something, and she’s gonna catch me. But by some miracle, Eileen didn’t see me up in her tree, and went inside. Well, I high-tailed it outta there, leaving my pirate-hat (part of my halloween costume) lying on the ground in their yard. I never wanted to even look at that damn house again. I sprinted down my street and through my neighborhood, all the way down to the schoolyard, where my friends and I agreed we’d meet up after my brothers’ little scheme. And to my utter dismay, my friends were nowhere to be found. All I could say at that point was that my brothers had better still have had my damn candy in their possession. I looked around the school yard a bit more. Nothing. Not a sign of my friends. It must have been pretty late at that point, there weren’t even trick-or-treaters on the streets anymore. I knew my parents were gonna kill me, so I started to head home. A walk home on Halloween Night was the coolest thing ever. It was peaceful, spooky, and unsettling, all at the same time. I kinda liked that creepy feeling, it was what gave Halloween its charm. However, I really don’t like the feeling of terror, kind of like the terrifying feeling that came over me when I noticed that I was being followed by Leo Hoffmister’s pickup truck. Great. Behind me were Eileen and Leo. Leo of course being the lap dog that he was, was driving. Eileen was sitting in the passenger seat. They knew. They knew I had spread those rumors. Who else could have? No one. I was their only visitor in their new house. I ran as fast as I could down the street, their old blue pickup truck continuing to cruise after me. I eventually veered off the sidewalk and into the woods. I ran faster than I ever had in my life, that night. Dashing through the woods, I looked back over my shoulder to see their truck, which was parked on the side of the road next to the woods. Holy shit, I thought. I am dead. These people are nuts. Unfortunately, looking at their truck parked, I did not see the fallen tree trunk in the middle of my path. And, as you probably guessed, I tripped over it, knocking every last bit of air out of my lungs when I hit the ground. I crawled, gasping and wheezing for air. And the next thing I knew, the menacing figure of Eileen was standing over me. She looked so frightening in the moonlight, her gray, stringy hair being illuminated as the rest of her face remained dark and hidden. Even more frightening was when she held out my pirate hat and dropped it into my lap. Great, that was strike two for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, and somehow I got the feeling that I wasn’t getting a third. “Awwww, Patrick, you took a nasty fall,” sneered Eileen. “Let us take you to our new house and take care of you, there. We’ll make you feel healed and new!” I pleaded with her, telling her that I was fine and I needed to be home. Of course, she didn’t listen. The witch clutched my wrist and dragged me out of the forest, over to their truck. I was dead meat. I was so freaking dead. Well, I would have been if it hadn’t been for a passing neighbor, who caught the two in the act of forcing me into their truck. Eileen and Leo managed to bullshit their way out of the situation, before getting in their truck and quickly driving away, leaving me behind. I went home and told my parents about the entire ordeal. The cops were called, yet after several days of searching, they were stumped as to the location of the Hoffmisters. According to them, they weren’t at their old house, nor had they been to their new one. No record of apartments or hotel rooms were on file, either. Those demon-worshipping, child-abusing scum had vanished off the grid. I was fine with that, and decided to try and get on with my life, hopefully never even having to think about the Hoffmisters again. However, it wasn’t long before I began noticing some weird shit going on around my neighborhood. What do I mean by that, you ask? First off, there were a couple of instances where I would see a kid on the street, walking up the road in a trance-like state. And where did they walk to? Why, none other than up that damn hill and into the dreaded Hoffmister home. Keep in mind that I was paranoid at the time, and my bedroom window looked right out onto the street, so I was the only one noticing this stuff, at least the only one in my house. I tried telling my parents, but they were just annoyed by it, telling me to “Quit letting my fears get the best of me”. I still haven’t forgiven them for it to this day. Then again, all I want right now is to tell them I forgive them. The strange occurrences then began to take an even scarier turn. One night, I woke up to hear the whispering of my little sister, Nancy. I got out of bed to have a look. As I walked down the hall, toward her room, I began to make out what she was saying, things like “Uh huh”, and “Okay, I’ll go”. I opened her door just in time to see her standing on her knees in her bed, staring out the window. However, that wasn’t the scary part. The scary part was seeing a scrawny, female shadow being projected onto Nancy’s bedroom wall by the moonlight. The second I called out to Nancy, the shadow seemed to scurry off. I rushed over to Nancy, asking her who she was talking to. My little sister hadn’t the faintest idea of what I was talking about. I told my parents, and this time, my dad jumped out of bed at the prospect of someone standing outside of Nancy’s window. However, he went outside to find no one. Well, I began to run my mouth again (you’d think I would have learned the first time around) to my brothers. Darren and Bryce, along with their friends, started to develop a newfound interest in all this “Eileen-talk”. Something about that creepy place at the end of the street amused them, gave them a rush. They loved that type of stuff. Another thing to know about Darren and Bryce was that they had a knack for sneaking out of the house on Saturday nights, something my parents hated, but never really took enough action to prevent. And sure enough, my brothers and their friends snuck out one Saturday night to check out the old Hoffmister house. This time however, I wouldn’t accompany them. But I sure came to know about it, because after my brothers went missing that night, one of their friends (who was smart enough to get out of there early on) told me about it. The police went over to the Hoffmister home, search-warrant and all, to investigate. They found nothing there. Nothing. However, as usual, I continued to be the one making the terrifying discoveries. This time, it was a VHS tape that I found sticking out of the VCR in my room one morning. Popping the tape in, the first thing I saw on the TV screen was a static shot of a cellar. The cellar was so dark and dingy-looking, almost like a dungeon. Suddenly, the camera began to jiggle around a bit, and whoever was picking it up, pointed it at none other than my brother, Darren. Darren was tied down to a chair, unconscious, looking bruised, battered, and abused. “Boo!” The loud yell from the cameraperson jolted Darren awake. The cameraperson was Eileen. She began to laugh sickly as Darren came to his senses, immediately beginning to cry. Who the hell would do this to another human being, I thought. That was my brother, too. I watched in horror as she continued to verbally torment Darren, eventually getting physical with him, smacking him in his face, his chest, and eventually his groin area. This woman was a sick, filthy pedophile. It wasn’t until I saw Eileen begin to pull a sickle out of her pocket that I shut the tape off. Part of me wanted to go on. I had to know if Darren was dead, but couldn’t watch. I couldn’t bear to witness my brother get tortured like that. I rushed upstairs to my parents room, leaving the VHS in the cassette player. However, my parents were gone. They had vanished. Oh shit, I thought. Am I next? Well, when I walked downstairs, I stopped dead in my tracks on the stairwell. My blood ran cold as I noticed Eileen Hoffmister, in my room, carefully removing the VHS tape from my VCR with latex gloves. She caught my stare. I swear, the second we made eye contact, my heart skipped a beat. She grinned at me and waved, saying, “I’ll be back for you two, tonight.” And just like that, the witch climbed out my window, and was gone. I rushed to Nancy’s bedroom, now frightened out of my wits. Oh, thank god, Nancy was still there. She was sleeping soundly, that is until I woke her up. I ran in screaming and crying, probably scaring the poor girl to death. I didn’t tell her about the video tape. I just told the police. That night, our neighbor, Betty, frail old woman, babysat us at our house. No one had a clue where the heck our parents were. Outside of our home were two police officers, keeping watch over the house. Betty was always a great neighbor, such a nice old lady. The nicest woman you’d ever meet. I’m sure she’s in heaven, right now. If she didn’t go to heaven, well then I don’t know who possibly could. Anyways, I was pretty antsy that night, even with cops guarding the house. And I unfortunately was antsy for very good reason. When the sun went down, I heard our back door open and close. Was it my parents? I suddenly got very excited, rushing to the door to see them. However, all that was there was one person’s muddy footprints on my floor. Something wasn’t right. But no one could have gotten into the house, could they? The cops were outside. I rushed upstairs to get Betty. Running into my parents’ bedroom, I heard the shower running. Banging on the door, I called to Betty to try and get her attention. No answer. Then, I realized nobody showers with their hearing aid in. Oh no. That’s when I heard Nancy scream downstairs. I rushed downstairs, really not wanting to go into her room, but I knew I had to. When I got to her room… yep, you guessed it. She was gone, window flung open. Where the hell were the cops? Taking matters into my own hands, I got my shoes and ran out the door. Running down the street, my eyes adjusted to the darkness just in time to see Nancy, entering the forest. The same forest that lies next to the hill upon which the dreaded Hoffmister home sits. I called out to her, desperately. But she was in a trance, just like those other kids I had seen. But no, no one would believe me then. Mustering up every ounce of courage I had, I ran after Nancy as she disappeared into the darkness of the woods. I ran deep into the dark forest, my feet making loud crunching noises on the gravel path beneath me. Catching up to Nancy, I pleaded and begged her to come to. She couldn’t snap out of it. I began pulling her away, but she continued to walk deeper into the woods. Then, to make matters worse, I spotted Eileen, who was about 30-40 feet down the path from us. I couldn’t snap Nancy out of this damn trance. I’ll never forget the way her eyes looked. Hypnotized and dialated. It reminded me of the trance that the snake, Kaa, from The Jungle Book put people in. Out of pure desperation, I reared back and slapped Nancy in the face, finally snapping her out of the trance. She had no idea what the hell was going on, she just knew to run from Eileen. Eileen immediately broke into a run after us. I’d never seen a woman in her 60’s run that fast. Faster and faster we ran. We were getting away until Nancy’s nightgown got caught on a tree branch. I tugged and tugged at her nightgown, desperately trying to free her. Eileen got closer and closer, snickering sickly under her breath. When Eileen got within about 15 feet of us, Nancy’s gown finally tore away from that damn tree branch. We darted to the exit of the woods, rushing out onto the street. I looked back over my shoulder, just in time to see Eileen turn around and disappear into the darkness of the woods. We looked around on the street, trying to find the police car that was supposed to be guarding our house. When we finally found them they didn’t even realize we were missing. The morons were smoking freaking Cubans instead of guarding our house from kidnappers. Unbelievable. I had never felt so neglected and unprotected in my life. My parents were gone, and now the police weren’t even looking after me. The idiotic officers went and got Betty, driving the three of us down to the police station. Finally, a place I’d be safe, right? Trying to explain to the cops that my sister was placed under some kind of voodoo hypnotism spell was like talking to a brick wall. Some cops are so ignorant, not open-minded at all. That’s something I don’t miss about Earth. People in authority were such douche bags. At least Betty agreed to stay the night there with us. See what I’m talking about? Nicest lady you’d ever meet. At some point, I fell asleep in the police station, and so did Betty and Nancy. What we woke up to was not at all what anyone ever wants to wake up to. Outside of the station, a roar filled the air. The roar was like nothing I had ever heard. That roar sounded like it came straight from the mouth of Hell. The screams of policemen filled the air outside as we listened, scared for our lives. It wasn’t until the roaring died down and the screaming stopped that we dared look out the window, and let me say, it wasn’t a pleasant sight. Dozens of bodies were just scattered all over the parking lot. And here we were, tucked in a room in the back of the station, helpless. Nancy, Betty, and I crept down the halls of the station, trying to find an exit. We passed an office just in time to get a look at one of the computer monitors, one that had CTV footage being fed to it. What we saw on the monitor was shocking: Eileen, ripping a side-door of the station off of its hinges. What was even more shocking was her face. Her eyes were demonic, her skin rotted and scarred like a zombie. Her teeth looked grotesque, as if she had meth-mouth or something. Why the hell did she look like that? Now, I know the answer. She was possessed. That sick witch had willingly conjured up a spell to get herself possessed, just to get her hands on us. The witch ripped the door off of its hinges, rushing down the hallway toward us. She had us cornered in the office. And Betty, oh God, poor Betty. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Eileen just picked Betty up by the throat, taunting her. It wasn’t until Betty began to utter the Lord’s Prayer that Eileen was sent into a fit of rage, pinning Betty to the wall and tearing her limb from limb. Right in front of Nancy and me, too. Looking back, I can’t even believe a 5-year-old girl was forced to watch something so awful. I had never seen anything so terrible (of course now, I’ve seen a billion times worse). Well, after Betty was slowly disemboweled, Eileen collected Nancy and me. Leo drove up to the police station, and into the blue truck we went, no neighbor to save us this time. Before I knew it, I was back at the awful place known as the Hoffmister home. No furniture this time, no creepy portraits, no lights on. Just an empty shell of pure evil. Eileen and Leo took us into the living room, where they began to bicker with one another. Leo wanted to “Have his fun” with Nancy, but Eileen told him to wait. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I wanted to get up and rip his head off. If only I could have. To this day I wish I could have beat the hell out of that sick bastard. During this, I started to wonder where David was. Probably meeting the same fate my brothers and their friends did. And my parents. Oh god, please tell me they didn’t, too. Leo eventually got impatient with Eileen, telling her he was going to get what he wanted for a change. He turned to look at my little sister, precious little Nancy, grinning. “Come here, sunshine!” he exclaimed. The rotten creep threw himself upon Nancy. I rushed at him, attempting to stop him. All I accomplished was getting a backhand to the face. When Eileen intervened, telling him he needed to wait, she received a punch to the jaw. Well, that was a horrible idea on Leo’s part. Did that moron forget his wife was possessed? Eileen grabbed Leo, picking him up by the back of his neck. Nancy and I took our chance, and ran away. Of course, the front door was right in the path of Eileen, so we had to run deeper into the house to find another way out. I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see Eileen begin to bite down hard on her husband’s face, chewing it like a dog on a bone. Leo’s cries of pain were both horrifying and reassuring to me. He deserved what he got. Nancy and I rushed through the house, desperately trying to find a way out. Why’d that house have to be so big? It was like a maze, and the fact that we could hear Eileen’s demonic growling as she desperately tried to relocate us, well, that didn’t help either. Finally, we found a window that looked out over the side of the hill. I quickly unlocked it, hearing Eileen’s footsteps grow nearer and nearer. There was a screen on the window, and I reared back and threw my hands into it, tearing it. guided Nancy out, all the while listening to the haunting sounds of Eileen’s feet hitting the wood floors. As Nancy jumped out, I yelled at her to run. I didn’t have to tell her twice. As I began making my way out of the window, I suddenly felt the hand (claw?) of Eileen grab my shoulder. I screamed out, but no one was coming to help. Eileen picked me up with the strength of an Olympic strongman, carrying me down the hallway and over to the basement. No, please no, I thought. Not the basement. Please not the basement. Well, basement it was, as Eileen flung open the door and carried me down into the musty cellar. She got to the bottom of the stairs, clutching me in her arms, and flicked a light on. Immediately, a grisly figure was displayed by the dim light of the basement. It was a 7-foot tall statue of the devil himself, complete with ram horns, ghoulish eyes, saber-teeth, forked tail, and hooved feet. This was what they were bowing down to that night. It must have been. But now it was in the basement. Eileen plopped me down in a wooden chair so that I was face to face with this horrible statue. She tied me down. This time, it really is it, I thought. Eileen then pulled out a black book with some sort of satanic symbol on the front of it. I tried begging and pleading with her, telling her I was sorry for the rumors I spread. I even offered to tell the whole town that I was lying, and that the tales were made up. Why did I even bother? Eileen was having none of it. I then began to cry, asking her why she had to kill my brothers and my parents. Once I said this, Eileen developed a confused expression on her face. “I did what to them?” she asked, in her deep demonic voice. “Did you kill my parents?” I said. “Patrick,” said Eileen, “Lucifer does not want to just see people die. He wants to see them in hell, with him.” “What?” I asked, in a sheepish tone. “Why, you could say your family is more alive than ever now!” she exclaimed. And that’s when the awful truth was revealed. Out from the dark corner of the basement, behind the statue, came my parents, my brothers, their friends, and those kids I had seen walking into the house. David was also among them. But they walked in a zombie-like manner. When they all stepped into the light, I saw into their pitch-black, possessed eyes. Those horrible eyes were not the eyes of the people I knew. They all looked dirty and abused, and their skin looked like it had begun to decay. Eileen grinned with glee at this sight. “You see, Patrick?” she said, “Mommy and Daddy are here. Say hi to Mommy and Daddy!” I looked at my parents, desperately trying to get them to respond to me. But they were gone. It was an awful feeling. “Hail Lucifer!” shouted Eileen. “Hail Lucifer,” repeated the hypnotized people, in monotone zombie fashion. Eileen then looked at me. “And now, you’ll join them.” Eileen opened the black book and began reciting incantations. The zombies, the people I once knew, encircled me and began reciting with Eileen. I pleaded with my brothers, with David, with my parents, but it was no use. They were lost. Suddenly, the statue’s life-like lips began to quiver intensely. I thought I was dreaming. It’s funny, when something like this happens, all you think to yourself is “Holy crap, is this really happening?” The statue’s eyelids began to quiver as well, before opening to reveal pitch-black eyes. The eyes began to glow a vibrant red, just as the statue’s jaw began to unhinge. And then, a loud roar erupted from the statue. This roar was even worse than Eileen’s demonic roar, louder and much deeper. White mist in the shape of a human skull started to rise up from behind the statue as Eileen shouted in English. “BEASTIE’S HUNGRYYYYY!” I screamed a bloodcurdling scream as the mist made a beeline for me, shooting straight into my mouth, down my throat. I screamed as I felt the evil spirit make its way into my belly, wriggling around in my insides. My high-pitched screams slowly began to grow deeper and deeper, turning into a demonic roar. This is what it felt like to become possessed. I was Eileen’s now. But even worse, I was Lucifer’s. The last months of my life were agonizing as I lost myself, lost who I was as a person. I became the evil zombie slave of Eileen Hoffmister, working to serve the devil himself. It was like a dream, I was in control of my actions, but I wasn’t at the same time. My slave labor ended when my body began to slowly decay. That was when Eileen disposed of me, likely going on to replace me with another poor child. And that is why I am where I am, now. It doesn’t make sense to me at all. I don’t deserve to be in this place. Sure, I lived out the last moments of my life serving God’s adversary, but it wasn’t my choice. Why, then, am I here? Some sort of mistake? Did Heaven run out of space, or does everyone just go here? Are my parents here, too? My brothers? Perhaps that is the worst part. I am not even granted the answers to these questions. I just live in total darkness, and extreme heat. Regardless, I know it is Eileen’s fault I am here. It’s all Eileen’s fault. It was Eileen who stole me from Heaven’s true light. And that is why, from Hell I write. Sorry for that, it’s just I used to like to rhyme when I was young…. CREDIT : Jake Wick Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.