"Killing the Devil"

"And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child: and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death." -Matthew 10:21

The sun hangs high over my head. The farther down I go, the hotter it gets. I turn up the air conditioning, panting heavily in the heat like a dog. I gently press a little harder on the gas pedal. I speed up, the world around me blurring and bleeding together until I can't see what's outside. I don't want to see. I've seen enough of the world to know that it's hot and empty and evil and cold. That's why I'm going to Hell. I didn't want it to come to this. I hoped I'd be able to succeed, to walk out of the underworld with my love and never once look back, but that hope was denied with all the rest. There's nothing left for me to do. Nothing left but to kill the devil.

            Kill the devil. So simple. The devil is the father of all that is evil in this world. Kill the devil, and you kill evil. Makes perfect sense. I still remember the day before the journey began. Everyone else, all those fucking Bildads so content with all the suffering, said not to do it. They said I couldn't kill the devil, that I'd simply have to live with all the evil he had wrought. They thought that I was mad. I think the wicked should be punished, and this makes me mad. I refuse to keep carrying the devil's heavy wounds, all of which a single word can cut deeper, and this makes me mad. Sometimes I suspect the whole damn world's with the devil, all of them working together to destroy me. But I'm not mad. I might even be the only person left who hasn't gone mad. My mind is more rational than all the others, and that is why I've taken the initiative to go down to Hell and kill the devil.

            Time passes and the sky grows dark. I stop the car. I'll have to make the rest of the journey on foot. I can't be seen. I reach over and grab my weapons. I pick up the gun. I look carefully at its barrel. I imagine the bullet flying out, piercing the devil's head, ridding the world of its evils, and for the briefest moment I feel relieved. I take the wooden bat. I swing it into the air, seeing the devil wherever the club may land. To simply kill the devil is not enough. I must make him hurt. I must let him feel the smallest fraction of what he had done to me.

            I approach the monstrous castle. It is the devil's lair. I have been here before. I begin to climb over the gate, clenching my teeth. I wasn't prepared for this. I press my foot against the gate, looking carefully to be sure there are no minions to alert the devil of my presence. The climb is difficult, but I dare not fail my quest. Not after everything else. I hide by the foliage, stuck among the trees in Hell. My heart grows excited, knowing justice will come soon. The devil will step out soon enough. Until then I wait. I don't mind. I've waited so many years to punish the devil. What difference is a few hours more?

            My mind wanders back to my past as I wait. I think about the devil, about what he had done to me before. I try to keep the bad thoughts away, but sometimes they still poke through. I see the devil tempting me with sin, performing his false miracles and claiming authority. I see another victim of his manipulation struggling to go on with the pain it carries. Still trying to live in spite of it all. I see people crying in pain as he condemns them to an eternity of punishment, smiling in sadistic pleasure. Punishment, he always called it. All the atrocities, all the pain, all the agonies Hell has to offer justified by calling it punishment. I will feel no qualm when I punish him.

            "Don't do it," a voice whispers to me. "It won't bring you peace. Avenge not yourself, but rather give place unto wrath." I brush the daemon away. I've waited so long, and the devil has yet to suffer. I won't wait anymore. I did not go through a life of struggle only to die without what I was promised. This isn't a sin. I am not murdering the righteous without cause. I am going to kill the devil. God will forgive me.

            The wait grows harder. I remember more of the devil's treachery. He made me into a slave. I don't remember being a free man. I don't remember living without orders, not struggling to please a cruel master. I remember begging for decent treatment from rulers I never see. I remember all the pain I've felt. I remember all the filthy painted whores. I wish I had the time for them. I wish I had the time to take every one of the devil's servants down with him. Every last one of them who conspired against me would scream like the damned they are. Mustn't think like that. I shall not want. I will kill the devil, and that is enough.

            Concentration is slipping. Can't wait much longer. The sun has returned. It'll be hot again soon. Feeling sleepy. Maybe I should...no! I hear a noise. Footprints. I look up just slightly. He appears so harmless, so well-meaning. Before he sinned we thought him the most beautiful of all the angels. But I know who it is. My hands begin shaking. The devil is here. The devil doesn't see me. The time has finally come. I ready my bat.

            I leap from the bushes and strike him in the back of the head! The devil turns around. I strike again, this time in the face. He falls to the ground. I raise my bat high and strike again. The devil writhes on the ground in pain, and I know that for but a brief moment all is good in the world.

            "Please stop!" he pleads. He speaks of his innocence and how I have sinned and I DO NOT LISTEN. I mock his word and I spit on his face. The devil offered me no defense, why should I? He is the father of all liars. It was he who sought to usurp the Creator! It was he who promised we would live in paradise but instead brought the start of all our suffering. The real sin is to let him go unpunished. I kick his stomach. As he moans in agony, pleading for me to stop, the sin of Onan tempts me.

            I slowly reach for the gun, savoring every second. "No," the devil begs me. "No, no, please, no." He fears me. He's lying on the ground, helpless, completely at the mercy of someone who wants nothing but to hurt him more. I wish I could let him live. I wish I could leave him just like this, bleeding and crying and hurting forever. But I have a job to do. I pull the trigger and the angels sing of how I've rid the world of evil. Blood washes over my face, cleansing me of sin. I look at the devil. He cannot hurt me anymore. Nothing remains of him but the body. I've erased him. He's gone. For the first time in years, I smile.

            A woman appears, screaming. The devil's whore. Why does she lament that I have freed her from her captor? She calls upon rogue angels. There are sirens in the distance. It doesn't matter. I close my eyes, place my hand to my forehead, and make peace with the Lord. They can do nothing to me, for I have succeeded where God Himself has failed. I have killed the devil! I have killed the devil, and now Hell is mine!