A Chat With The Devil

A short story

Daryl had prayed enough.

He had been inside this church for several hours, waiting for the last moment for a calling, a voice maybe. Still, he had not heard any.

This ancient church of stone, brick and wood does not divulge its secrets easily. Even the many saintly statues adorning its facade have not betrayed an echo.

He looked at their lifeless eyes and saw nothing to reassure him. It has been a year, he thought, and after a year of reflection, of discerning, he has not achieved even a bit of inner peace.

With a sigh, he slowly walked out of the church, the most frustrating part of his day. Every morning, he kept thinking that things would be different, that he would finally hear what he wanted to hear. Yet, every afternoon, it was the same thing. More disappointments. More frustration.

"Hi, there."

Daryl looked up and saw a man. He was smiling. The man, about fifty years old, was dressed immaculately like a lay minister, in slacks and the white long-sleeved barong. His posture exuded confidence and his face hinted of an arrogance of someone who seemed to know everything in the world.

"Hello. Do I know you?"

"Oh yes. You do know me. I just came by to see how well you are doing."

"I'm doing fine. And you are..."

"You must be Daryl Monsanto of the Saint Luke's Seminary. I hear you will be returning to the seminary soon to submit your decision to the rector."

Daryl thought this man must be someone checking up on him. "Yes, you are right sir. However, I haven't made my decision yet. May I know your name?"

"Of course, I understand. You haven't made a decision yet. In fact, you haven't heard anything, have you? No voice, no "calling", no signs of any sort."

Daryl was surprised, "Excuse me? How did you know?..."

The man let out a laugh and roared, "Ha! How did I know?! Of course, I know everything about you! I am the DEVIL!"

Then it was Daryl's turn to laugh. Families of mental patients shouldn't let their ward roam the streets. "Okay sir. If you are trying to play a joke on me, it won't work. But if you are lost and need my help, tell me where your house is and I will take you there. Your family must be really worried..."

Daryl began to approach the man but suddenly, he could not move, as if his entire body had turned to stone. He could not even breathe. Daryl began to panic.

"I guess you do not understand me, Mr. Monsanto", said the man, a scowl replacing his earlier gleeful smile. "I am the Devil. And I want to have a little chat with you. Would that be all right?"

As Daryl was about to faint, the Devil tapped his shoulder. In a flash, Daryl could move and breathe. He collapsed on the pavement, still trying to catch his breath. He looked up with fear in his eyes.

The Devil smiled again, "I assume I've made my point.I apologize for that. People nowadays are so skeptical, don't you think? That is why I had to resort to violence just to have them believe me. Make no mistake, that is not my nature. But sometimes, someone like you pushes my hand. Now, let's take a walk on this church's magnificent gardens, shall we?"

They began walking. Daryl was silent for a long time. His body was still shaking from the incident earlier. His mind was exploding with ideas: Is this really the Devil? If not, then how could he have done what he did awhile ago? Why is he even here? Is this my sign? Is God telling me something? Perhaps, he is here to dissuade me from being a priest!

The Devil interrupted his thoughts, "No, God isn't telling you something, Daryl. Nor I am here to dissuade you from what you want to become. I have only a few minutes to spend with you anyway so why don't we start talking?"

"What do you want with me?", fumed Daryl, with fists clenched.

"You can relax now. Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you nor was I bent on killing you then. I came to answer some questions that have bothered you since."

"And what are those?"

"Tell me, Daryl. When you were young, you wanted to be a priest. You always had this image of you raising up the host and the chalice to heaven during the Eucharist. A beautiful image. And you would imagine that every time a priest would raise the host and the chalice in mass, bolts of lightning would come down from heaven, touching both, transforming them into the body and blood of Christ. You had such a vivid imagination."

"Yes. That was before."

"That was before? What changed, Mr. Monsanto? Oh, I know. You grew up and a lot of things changed. You saw the world, with its unexplainable evil. You realize that, despite the claims of many, the Bible is indeed fallible, your religion is flawed and everything is absurd. Am I right?"

"So? What are you driving at?"

The Devil grinned, "I would have preferred a longer prelude to what I have to reveal but since you are very intent, then I have to be frank with you. Until now, you keep asking yourself: why is the world this way? Why, after centuries of human civilization, behind the illusion of progress and change, the world as you know it is still wretched and disgusting? Well, let me tell you the truth. Because this is not the world! This is already Hell!"

Daryl stared blankly at the Devil.

"What? This is already Hell?"

"Yes. And lest of course you do not believe in me, I'll have to do to you again what I did before. This is Hell, Daryl. This thought has been lurking in your mind ever since and now I have come to confirm it. Face it."

Daryl began to stutter. This was insane. In seconds, the questions began coming out. "But, how could this be hell? In hell, you don't see priests, monks, rabbis, sheiks roaming around, do you? Even more so, you do not see Holy Scriptures or anything of that sort in Hell!"

"Before I explain myself, Daryl, I will rebut your arguments. First, contrary to what you have been "taught", Hell is the shadow of the world. The world does have its God-fanatics like its priests, monks, rabbis, sheiks and so on. Hence, it is understandable that Hell features these classes of men here too. It also has the "Holy Scriptures", albeit a more morbid version of the real scriptures found in the world. Everything is the same in Hell as it is in the world but Hell is, shall we say, more depressing."

The Devil stopped talking, looked around and pointed at the distance, at an old priest at the church entrance conversing to some women.

"You see that priest? He is a pedophile. Six boys and counting, spanning a career of twenty years. You quit being an altar boy when you were still young. Am I right, Daryl?"

Daryl froze. Nobody ever knew.

"That was because you were molested by a pedophile priest. Unfortunately, you escaped and you vowed to become a priest someday to cleanse yourself of your imperfect past and to somehow redeem your view of priests and of priesthood. However, you have always asked yourself why a man of God can do such a thing. Well, the answer is simple. You are in Hell and everyone here is a sinner. That is why we have vicious murderers, rapists, criminals. And no matter what the government does, still they are here. That's because you were all criminals to begin with even before you all got here. You have heard of original sin? That's because all of you are reborn into Hell already damned."

"As for the Scriptures, you could not comprehend why the Word of God could be riddled with so many fallacies, imperfections, and mistranslations. You could not comprehend why some passages of the Bible could not be reconciled with historical data or are vehemently antagonistic of your notion of an all-benevolent God. Let me tell you. The Scriptures here are corrupted, Daryl. They bear no semblance to truth. Even its version of Hell is far from what it is in reality."

Daryl pondered this point. He realized that they have stopped walking and are now sitting on the grass. A smile crept up to his face.

"If what you are saying is true, then I must be relieved. I always thought of Hell as a place of eternal fires and torment. From what I am seeing right now, everything is more pleasant."

"But this is torment, Daryl. Certainly, this is not the traditional Christian version of Hell but it is certainly Hell still. Everyone may still have "family, love and friendship" to comfort them here, but that does not hide the fact that everyone here has anguish and hopelessness. I know you feel it in your gut. Everyone feels wretched. Why is that so? It is because there is no God here, Mr. Monsanto."

"That can't be."

"Oh, yes it is. You wonder why there is no voice, no calling up to now? It is because there is no God to begin with. God is silent in Hell. Not even his Word can reach this place. That is why, despite contrary opinions by many of you, there can be no realization of ideals in here. Justice, Hope, Peace, Equality and all those crap are to remain only as figments of your imagination, always in the conscious but always impossible to realize. In your judicial courts, many may find "justice" but there are countless other people who will never ever find it in their stay here. That goes for those who pursue peace, or whatever. They know, deep inside them, that it is impossible. They can only do so much and that is frustrating. That is torment."

"Is this our only punishment?"

"Apparently, no. You all are also condemned to a finite, senseless existence. You are forced to live in Hell, where Evil is rampant and ultimately unexplainable, where meaning and purpose is never found unless artificially constructed by you. All souls, when they die, either go to Heaven or Hell. You know that. The difference is that when you go to Heaven, you get eternal bliss. When you go to Hell, you live miserably and die. When you die here, your soul vanishes forever."

"No more afterlife?"

"This is the afterlife. A lot of people still believe in it, that when they die, they go somewhere else. But this is their "somewhere else". After this, there is nowhere else to go."

They both were silent for a long time. Daryl gazed at the sunset. Very beautiful, he thought, but very tragic too.

Daryl broke the silence. "Let me guess. Your telling me all of this is part my of my torment, am I correct? You know that I could have been ignorant yet blissful instead of knowledgeable but morose."

"No, this is not your torment. But if it makes you feel that way, then that is your fault. The reason I am telling you all of this is because you need to know this to perform your next job well."

"Next job? What job?"

"To be my minion, of course."

Daryl smiled at the Devil. This is certainly pathetic. "And what made you think that I can be your minion?"

"You are qualified enough. What you did with your life is already a benchmark of what you can do for me. You were already acting like my minion up there."

"I don't want to know about that. But why do you assume that I will pursue working for you?"

"That is easy. Aren't you feeling a little bit curious? Everyone here is reborn without a hint of their past lives. Are you interested to see what the world is again? Of how different it is from here? We are two worlds away from Heaven after all."

"If I were to accept your offer, what would you make me do?"

"Oh, now we are getting somewhere. You are interested."

"Don't push your luck. I am not saying anything."

"Minions collect souls. They try to cram as many souls into Hell as possible."

"And why would I do that?"

"It's a trade secret. I will tell you when you accept the job. That would be your privilege as one of my new comrades. But for now, I can only tell you that I'm planning a revolution, a revolution that will save your souls from this dismal place. But in order to do that, I must achieve critical mass. Listen, I'm running late for another appointment. Here is my card. Call me if you have decided. And lest we forget, I advise you not to pursue that vocation of yours. Now that you know something, I feel that you would be less inclined to pursue that line of work. Goodbye."

The Devil handed Daryl a gold-plated business card and walked away. Daryl examined it for a long time and every so slowly slid it into his pocket. He let out another sigh, stood up and looked at the sunset again.

Clearly, there is more reflection to be done.

Note: I wrote this story prior to leaving for Manila. This was supposedly the first of my two entries while applying for a spot in the Davao Writers Workshop 2008.