By Rebecca Alosi 24/8/05
A tale of the day my life disappeared. I did not die, for now I cannot die and will live forever in loneliness. The day my family and friends were lost to my past, erased from my mind. The day I became the ‘Devil's Son'
So Hell does exist. But not as a pit of flames and torture but in the world of the living. In my own house Hell has emerged. My name is Darrion, or ‘Daz' as my friends once called me. I lived in a so-called Haunted House. The house of the murders of the Charles family about ten years or so, back now. I lived by myself. My girlfriend, Karri came over every now and again but only staying for a few days at a time.
My life was going well until December the 13th 1990. It was a full moon, a bloodstained moon. They say that when the moon rises red, blood will be spilled that night but it definitely wasn't going to be my blood or so I thought. My friends had told me the stories of the murders and the rumours about the house but I didn't believe that Satan, himself, would own it, like they claimed.
I had just shut down my laptop for the night and grabbing my now cold coffee I walked upstairs to bed. It was raining heavily, slamming cold and wet against my shuttered windows. I lay down in bed still wearing my jeans and jumper and rolled over to sleep.
Tossing and turning. My lack of sleep had made me viciously tired. I got up to go to the bathroom when I was stopped. A dark hooded figure was standing in my bathroom doorway. I tried to yell but my voice had vanished. I felt my chest tighten and my heart pound. The window burst open and cold hands covered my mouth. I could not breathe. I struggled to free myself but the hands held tight.
The next morning I woke, lying in bed, still wearing my jeans and jumper. I just lay there for a while, not moving, just laying still. Finally I gathered my strength enough to get out of my bed. I wondered absentmindedly into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. I felt horrible. My mouth tasted foul and my body ached. But my shock was yet to come. I washed my hands and went downstairs.
Breakfast was the usual coffee. I was about to switch on the laptop when there was a knock at the door. I walked to the door and opened it. Karri stood in shock as I opened the door. Her jaw dropped when she saw me.
"What?" I asked, curiously. She didn't answer. "Come in?" she didn't move. "Kar, what is it?" she looked me up and down and then opened and closed her mouth a few times before answering me.
"You'd tell me if there was something wrong right?" I nodded.
"Because black really isn't your thing." Black? What was she talking about? I walked to the mirror in the hall. I stood dumb found. I had long black hair, my eyes were black and my nails had grown three inches with black tints.
"Darrion?" Karri stepped back. "I'm going to go. It's bad timing, I'll come back tomorrow." I didn't respond. I didn't move. But I was him, in the mirror. Satan.
He laughed his cruel cackling laugh.
"Devil's Son." he hissed.
"Did you hear me Darrion? I'll come back tomorrow." I turned and closed the door in her face.
Karri called the next day but when I answered the phone and she asked if I was okay, all that came out were the words: "Devil's son." after that I never answered the phone and soon it was disconnected. So here I sit in the darkness of my room, with the last remaining power in my laptop, typing this story for you. For I have found Hell on earth and will be bound to it forever more, living as the Devil's Son.