A whisper breathed softly through the verdant green foliage of the forest. A voice so still, at first I mistook it for sheer imagination. Yet over and over it called my name. It wasn’t menacing, nor was it rank with foul ambition. It rang clear and strong through the quiet darkness, piercing my heart and breaking walls built long ago. Darkness shrank away at its touch; light filled its volume.

“Come to me.”

It was not a siren song, rather the call of a heartbroken father wishing his child were with him again. Strangely, my heart leapt at its kind touch. I wanted the speaker’s warm embrace to wash away my sins of self and hate.

“No.” growled a cold, calculated voice. “He is mine, and mine alone.” A pang of paralyzing fear shot through my entire being. Somehow, I knew this new voice was that of evil, nay, the Father of it.

The greens of the leaves and trees around me slowly curled into the darkest shades of black. The figures of demons and ghosts of a life poorly lived closed in around. Apparitions of the blackness of my own heart crushed me, trying so desperately to drown out the luminous, loving voice.

“Help!!!”

Beams of pure sunlight tore through my self-imposed cage of anxiety and damnation. Soft hands lifted me out of the sour pit I had sunken myself into. If I were to try and describe the face that smiled down on me in that moment, my heart would break with the sheer force of joy.

Coursing through my veins was a cleansing grace so bright and hot it burned away the barricades in my soul. It gave me the hope of a bright future, and a life lived in honor of the one who had rescued me from my own devices.

I was redeemed.

Someone once said, “The Devil made me do it.” Did I? Or was I simply the object of your disdain for your own flaws? I was the original sin, yes; but you yourself aren’t innocent. Sure, I‘ve pushed you to the edge on occasion, but you yourself hold the power of self destruction in your heart.

Your nature is darkness; your soul black with evil. “Men are naturally good on the inside!” It is the biggest lie I’ve ever told the world. You think you’re good? That you’re environment or circumstances make you a villain? Think again. Man is not a creature born holy. You were born a wretch, and you will die a wretch unless redeemed.

Redemption is only a step away. Yet you continue to fall. Fall into the cold embrace of selfish ambition and deceit. I don’t need to do anything! You make my mission easy! If every human was born good, then I would have my hands full with the destruction of your soul. Yet, you burn yourself alive.

I am the Father of Evil. I am Satan. You are simply a product of your own desires. Desires so skewed and warped that what seems right unto a man, is the path to his own destruction. I am not here to save you from it. Rather, I’m here to revel in your eventual demise. I am here to help you on your journey into darkness.

I am damned by the Creator Himself. If I shall burn in the Bottomless Pit, destined to an eternal suffering more searing then your wildest imaginations, then you’re coming with me. This is my manifesto. You, and all of your infernal human brothers and sisters, save those of the redeemed, shall die in eternal torment for your foul deeds and evil desires. This isn’t my fault. It’s not even God’s fault. It’s yours.

So begins your fall.

Darkness was falling all around. The sounds of screaming filled my ears, drowning out all other sounds. Why was I here? Why had I come to this place? Why did it hurt so much?

"I can give you hope!" he had said. "It'll be better this way."

It hadn't been better. Hadn't even been good. The image of absolute glee on his sadistic face as he pulled the blood-stained knife from my bleeding heart was still burned in my mind's eye. His grating laughter began to fill my already throbbing head, swelling into a horrible symphony of hate and despair.

I had had no hope. I had been living (if you could call it that) in a constant cycle of regret and loneliness. I was searching for hope in a world that seemed devoid of life itself. The backstabber had come promising me the very thing I was searching for. Hope. He'd lied. Now I was more alone, and more hopeless than I'd ever been before. Writhing in pain and crying tears of anguish, I cried into the darkness; searching for just a fleeting glimpse of hope. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to heal my broken and dying soul.

"Help!" I cried, weakly. I felt my soul draining away; fading into the darkness enclosing me.

"I'm here." whispered a warm, gentle voice. "I've got you."

I didn't know who it was, but I knew he was there to help. His touch was different from the one of the hateful demon of false hope. This savior's touch was one of real hope. Tangible and bright.

"Trust me." said the gentle man, lifting me in his arms.

Strength and power emanated from him. I felt myself resting my faith in him more and more. Somehow, his very light was healing my deepest scars. I felt a rush of something I hadn't ever felt, but knew what it was immediately. Like a ray of sunshine peeking through a bleak winter sky, it warmed my heart and soul.

It was hope.

The waters are blue,

Reflections of the sky’s hue.

Ducks along the shore,

Swimming in waters, Oh, so pure!

Two fishermen, grizzled and old,

Telling tales; epics untold.

A cool evening breeze,

Calls and invites me.

Here I sit, alone and in awe,

Telling God, Thank you for it all.

I could smell its rancid breath as it permeated the humid air in my bedroom closet. It was scratching and sniffing, tasting the molecules for my scent. Its heavy footsteps thumped around outside of the door.

”Please, no!” I whispered, closing my eyes.

I heard it coming closer, still searching for its prey, me. I squeezed myself farther into the back of my closet, trying to melt into the darkness around me. I was clutching my favorite childhood toy to my chest. I had found it on the floor when I had scrambled into my closet, trying to hide from the horror that awaited me outside. The tattered teddy bear provided small comfort from the terror that hunted me.

THUMP.

Silence.

THUMP. THUMP.

A steady thumping sound traveled across the walls of my bedroom. It came closer and closer, growing louder and louder. My heart was beating so hard against my sternum I thought that it might break through my chest.

THUMP.

The thumping stopped abruptly, and a deafening silence ensued. I cautiously looked up at the door of my closet, expecting the inevitable crashing of the door being torn off of its hinges, screams piercing the dark, and vile laughter, but there was nothing.

THUMP. THUMP.

The thumping resumed, growing ever closer until my closet door was rattling under every blow. I stifled a scream as a giant claw wrapped around the edge of my door. A screechy creaking sound emanated from the hinges of the door.

“Anybody home?” asked a deep, raspy voice. “Don’t be shy! I just want to play!”

The fist of fear gripped my heart and squeezed it until it stopped.

CRASH!!!

The door flew off of its hinges, revealing a ghastly sight. A reptilian creature rose to its full height, stretching four scaly wings, and flexing rippling muscles covered in sharp scales that wildly pierced the darkness at scattered angles. Bioluminescent light cast a pale blue glow over everything.

“What do you want?” I whispered hoarsely.

”You.” It rumbled.

”Why?” I trembled.

”Because, child! You are my greatest trophy! A human, especially a young one such as yourself, is quite a delicacy where I come from.”

”No!” I tried to scream, but it got caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat as the creature dragged me off into the darkness.

It's a cold, wintery morning as The Fisherman pulls into the parking lot. He pulls his bags from the backseat of his 2004 Ford F-150, and drags them through the glass, automatic sliding doors that mark the entrance to an unknown destination. The sounds of hundreds of people milling about fills his ears in a cacophonous din so loud it drowns out his very thoughts.

Just last week he had bought a plane ticket to nowhere, and he was ready to go. He was ready to get away from the masses and leave this world behind. There was nothing here for him, or so he thought. He might as well save everyone else the trouble of caring about his existence. He didn't belong; didn't feel any purpose. He felt as if he had been born into a world devoid of sanity and hope.

He gets in line to check his baggage, and says one final goodbye to the supposed wretched world he lives in. He hefts his bags onto the scale and shoves his hands in the pockets of his dirty blue jeans. The attendant glances at her computer screen and turns to look The Fisherman in the eyes.

"No one truly goes nowhere."

Suddenly, it felt as if a burden had been lifted from The Fisherman's shoulders.