The Devil's Game

I had been there before. I remembered the dampness that spread across the black room like a disease and the decaying flowers that littered the obsidian floor. I remembered him. Red eyes that pierced my soul from the corner and his silhouette that made the black of the room look dusty grey. The devil.

“We meet again,” his haunting voice rang.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” I replied.

A wide smile spread across his face as his shadow moved along the wall closest to me. His body never materialized but remained one with the shadows, only his blood red eyes, fanged smile, and bull horns were ever fully visible. His shadow stretched across my collarbone, the coldness spread through my body, and suddenly we were in the next room. I had been coming here since I was small; every few years when I went to sleep, I would be awoken by a black clawed hand reaching up from underneath my bed. It would scratch my arm, stroking me, until I woke up; then it would beckon for me to follow it underneath my bed. At first, I was terrified, I screamed for my mum, for anyone, but no one heard me, until I had no voice left and no other choice but to follow it. The usual boxes that piled high underneath my mattress had gone and was replaced by an absence, pure darkness.

“You should remember how to do this one,” he taunted from the corner of the room, bringing me back to the present.

I gave him a disapproving glance, but he was right, I did remember how. The first time I had begun his game I had almost lost because I was too flustered but now I new the tricks. The first room in his game was a choice. I was presented with three boxes; one filled with snakes, the other spiders, and the other my greatest fear. That was the only thing that ever seemed to change in this round, because that changed as I grew older. When I was 5, the first time I came, it had been a box that contained a laughing clown’s face, when I was 12 it was my face with these ugly braces, and now, coming up to my 18^th birthday it was a box of darkness. It represented by constant fear of the unknown, how much it scared me not to know what was happening or what would happen. It was the easiest round, the key to the next room would be in the box you least wanted to go into. However, the younger you are the more likely you are to trip up. I wonder how many children have been eliminated in this round?

So I stuck my upper body into the darkness, felt the abyss around me, felt his grin burning into my back, and fished out the key.

“Well done,” he purred, “that is 15 seconds faster than last time.”

Without wasting time I briskly walked to the door that was materializing behind me and stormed through to the next round. I was faced head on with my mum and my twin sister. I hated this game.

“Darling,” my mum pleaded, “I love you so much.”

“sup baby sis,” my sister, who always liked to rub it in that she was born 2 minutes before me, giggled. My eyes weld with tears as they both smiled at me with an abundance of love. I hated this game.

Suddenly the floor underneath them turned into thick black tar. Both of them sunk into the floor, chest deep, and screamed.

“help me!” my mum cried

“Sissy save me,” my twin shrieked.

I stood frozen to the spot. I had done this round multiple times before and it never got easier. I knew that if I pulled one of them out by a few centimeters the other would sink a few centimeters. It was a game of ethics, who would I save and who would I kill? By saving one I was certainly sentencing the other to death.

I knew that time mattered in this game, so I had to chose fast. A long time ago I had decided to always save my sister because she was lighter, easier to pull out, and would save me precious seconds later on. So I ran to my sister.

“I’m sorry mummy,” I cried, and I hauled my sister from the mud.

“No!” she screamed, “NO! please don’t let me die!”

I hated this game.

I saw as my mum’s screaming and crying face sunk further and further into the black tar, engulfing her as she gurgled the hot liquid, choking. Her blood shot eyes poured sadness into my heart; she was betrayed. I lifted my sister’s feet out finally and with a final heart wrenching scream my mum was eaten by the floor. I hadn’t realized that I was crying until the familiar chill on my collarbone came to my attention, he was enjoying this.

“It always is hard to kill one’s mother isn’t it,” he chuckled in my ear.

No door appeared this time. When I had first come, I was confused about where to go next, until I realized that I had to jump into the tar to get to the next room. This had wasted so much of my time back then but now I just dived in hoping that the rules didn’t change.

Physical fitness was not my strongest point, so every time it came to the agility course, I was unsure whether I would make it through. I don’t know how the younger children complete this round, maybe they didn’t?

Running blades turned and cut underneath the small stepping stones that led through the test. I hopped from one stone to the other until I made it to the first obstacle, a monkey bar. As soon as I took hold of the first bar it turned to a slick black snake, so immediately I had to grab the next which did the same. For 8 bars I grappled the snakes which formed under my touch until I landed on the stone on the other side.

Next was the swinging axe. The stones would only form to let me through when a living creature was hit by the axe. With each hit a new rock would form to allow a passage through. So, the basket next to me, filled with mice, was quickly in my hands. The swiftness at which I threw the shivering mice at the axe was disgusting; when I had figured it out, I had been so hesitant. But now…

The stones formed and I dodged the swinging axe to get to the last obstacle. A dart. A dart which had to pierce the dead man hanging at the end of the room. The closer you got the heart the closer the stepping stones got to the door, but you only had one shot.

One… two… three…

Shoot. I landed near his hip bone, further away than my last attempt. So the stepping stones only made it a meter and a bit away from the door. I would have to jump.

I heard his cruel laugh ringing in my ears, as if he enjoyed seeing me get frustrated. Who was I kidding, he loved it.

So I prepared myself to jump, I bent down low and leapt, narrowly making the edge of the door frame with my toes. I pulled myself through the door using the little strength I had left in my arms. That was it. I was in the last round of his game.

A test of trust.

There was a door on the floor which was wide open. It lead to another room with a door on the right wall. But if you landed on the floor of the room you would die. I hadn’t tried it but when I first came his cold voice had whispered it to me as a warning. It was a test of trust in him. The one person who I trusted the least. So I had to trust that when I swung my body against the right wall as I jumped down from the door, he would warp gravity to allow me to stand on the vertical wall. Every other time he had done, however I never knew whether this time he would trick me. But I guess that was the point of the game. I hated this game.

I sat at the edge of the door on the floor. I swung my legs and lifted myself off by my arms and hung from the door into the next room. I gave myself some momentum by swinging and finally built up the courage to let go. I flew at the right wall and landed on my feet, standing on the wall as if gravity was the wrong way round. Huh? I guess I could trust him a little bit.

“15 minutes and 28 seconds, a new record for you my dear,” he purred, “I am impressed.”

I suddenly materialized in an infirmary. I had been there 6 times, one for every time I had played the game. I presume only the people who finished the game end up there. Adeline was there. I had spent a little bit of time in the infirmary and every time I had met Adeline, a 14 year old girl who never left. Apparently, she had barely made it through the rounds and come out so severely hurt that she had to stay until they fixed her. Adeline had been 14 for 52 years.

“How is my favorite Hell bestie doing?” I said as light-hearted as I could. She gave me a faint smile. We both knew this would be that last time we saw each other. Adeline had been there so many years she noticed that only children were taken into the games, so because I was almost 18, I wouldn’t have to come back again. However, neither of us knew what happened to the children who failed a round, they never made it to the infirmary, so presumably they died.

I had no obvious injuries so I gave Adeline a quick hug and headed for the door. But as I got closer, I felt the cold touch on my collarbone.

“What do you want?” I snapped, “I have finished your game and I am done with all of this now.”

I felt his chuckle reverberating through my chest.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he slurred.

“But…” I started, “but I passed your test and I did it better than I ever have.”

There was his chuckle again.

“Oh but sweet, sweet, little child,” he cooed, “you did pass my test and in one of the best times.”

I was so confused. My head hurt from the stress of the game, so much so that his words didn’t make any sense.

“So I can go home,” I stated.

“Oh no,” he replied darkly, “you passed my test, meaning you are one of the only ones who are valuable to me.”

It dawned on me. I had passed the Devil’s test. I had proven myself to him. He made it all about survival and getting home when in fact he was testing how much you would do to save yourself. That was the game all along.

“What happens to the children who fail?” I spluttered out.

“Oh them,” he yawned, “they get taken back to their rooms and they never come again.”

A loud ringing sound blasted through my head. All I needed to do was to fail a test. That was all I needed to do to never come back here. Pain radiated through my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

A nurse came running to me.

“Oh dear, honey I think you are too badly injured to be able to go now, you will have to stay here until you are better.”

Adeline. I looked at her and she was smiling wickedly at me. She had been in on it. Of course she wanted someone else with her to be trapped in this eternal hell. She had lied to me.

 He touched my collarbone again and whispered in my ear.

“Don’t worry your sister will be joining us tomorrow.”

…

I saw my sister materialize in the middle of the infirmary. I don’t know how long it was but I saw her large smile and felt instantly better.

“Let’s get out of here,” she shrieked. How I longed to hear her voice.

“I can’t,” I whimpered, “I have to stay here until I am better, I got injured during the course.”

I didn’t want to be alone. Not forever. I lied to her.

“I will stay with you until then,” she replied. My heart ached.

She sat with me on the white bed as I felt my brain weigh heavy in my skull. The weight of my sins breaking my back.

“I love you,” I whimpered.

“I love you more,” she whimpered back.

…

“But doctor, what is wrong with them?” the twin’s mother asked.

“I cannot be exactly sure,” the doctor replied, “it seems that they are both stuck in REM sleep.”

“Will they wake up?” their mother asked through stifling tears.

“I have only seen a few cases like this and they haven’t, I am sorry,” he replied promptly.

Their mother was left in the hospital room alone with her precious girls. Until she felt a cold shiver run down her collar bone. No. Not him.

“Long time no see,” a voice echoed.