Page 161 of Devil Inside

“I’m going to hell,” I say, since we’re confessing our sins.

“Come again?”

“I’m damned, Deak. I’m going to hell, I know it... because I’m already dead.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I’ve seen it.” What do I remember from when I died? Anything at all? Darkness. A roiling sea. And within those ashen waters, a voice, calling—What adorable morsel is this?

“I hope they serve beer wherever I’m going,” Deak offers.

“Where do you think that’ll be?”

“Heaven, definitely.”

“Sure about that?”

“I’m a choirboy,” Deak says, toasting me with his invisible PBR. “Saint Deak.”

Another wicker man goes into the bonfire. His body embraces the flames, sparks showering everywhere, cindered fireflies taking to the air.

I step back, wincing.

The music seeps out from the house, rattling the windows as if it’s a distant wind coming in from the west, a tornado dragging its own discordant tune. I don’t know if I can pin the band. They’re a mystery to me, whoever they are. The music isn’t sinking in. I can hear it, almost. Decipher it. The notes just jangle about my head, rattling around my skull.

“I’m seeing them wherever I go,” I say. “All the time now.”

“Seeing who?”

“Demons.”

“Demons,” Deak repeats, his tone flat. Indecipherable. I can’t tell if he believes me or not, if he’s just withholding any judgment this early in the conversation.

Seeing demons.I almost laugh. Have to. Yeah... I’m seeing demons, alright. Just one. We’re thinking of being exclusive. I’m a one-demon kinda guy. Time to settle down.

Time to burn.

More people gather round the fire. Their bodies press together, as if drawn in by the flames. Some even dance, circling about the blaze in their own warped maypole shimmy.

“How are you so sure you’re going to hell?”

“Because I’ve been there already.” There’s silence between us. How could anyone respond to that? So I keep going. “They’re coming for me and there’s nothing anyone can do to save me. There is no saving me. No absolution, no salvation at all.” All this time, I’ve been striving to crawl back toward who I was, but I’ll never be that person again. I need to figure out who I am now before it’s too late. I’m only half a man. Soulless. A shell. Ilost so much of myself, the only way I know how to get it back is to call upon Lilith. I only feel whole with her.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what?”

“I’ve been—Jesus, I just haven’t been here. For you or anyone else.” We’re different people now. Our paths have split. Time for a clean cut. Sever ties. Say goodbye.

Deak crushes his can, tossing it into the fire. The wet metal hisses for a moment before charring over into a blackened cinder. “Ride or die, man.”

“Ride or die.” What about both?Ride and die?

I focus on the fire. The circle of people dancing around the blaze. Look at them go, spinning, spinning, hand in hand, circling the flames and never stopping, a burning merry-go-round, all these bodies, animals—beasts—rotating around me. I can’t get off this ride, lost in this endless gyration, the eternal swirl, getting dizzy, creatures blurring about me.

Except for him.

One face grabs my attention from across the flames. Through the tangle of bodies, I spot a man standing opposite me. He doesn’t move, doesn’t dance along with the rest.