I never believed in Hell. To me “hell” was an illusion the Church created thousands of years ago to keep children in line and out of trouble. The shaking finger of God sending you to a bottomless pit of fire, presided over and commanded by a Demon of red flesh and pointed horns would have scared any young child from stepping over that invisible line of good and evil. Mothers and daughters, husbands and sons, grandparents and grandchildren could sleep better at night knowing the foulest souls of mankind were bound to reach the brimstone gates of hell when they came to their end. But what if this were not true? What if these happy, pleasantly unaware people were told that their souls were not preordained by their actions, by their adherence to the rules of the Bible, but where fought over by the Angels of Light and Darkness? That no matter how badly they acted upon the planes of Earth, when they died it was a gamble, a roll of the dice, to which side brought their souls to the Other Side? I never believed in Hell. Therefore I never believed in Heaven either. God and the Devil were but bedtime stories to me, fantasies of the oldest kind, fiction to be swept up in but not believed in. I was baptised and raised a Catholic, which is maybe the reason why I cannot bring myself to believe in or even consider the fact that Hell may truly exist. If you had of asked me five years ago whether I believed or not, it would have been a simple, flat, no brain answer. No. But that was five years ago. This is now: Hell is real. So is the Devil, Lucifer, Satan, the Dark Prince, whatever you choose to call him. You must know that he is real, as real as any man, woman or child standing in front of you. If you do not believe, he will make you believe. The worst sin to him is the sin of not believing in him. To turn your back on a concept that has been passed down from generation to generation, from faith holder to faith holder, from heretic to heretic. The worst sin you ask? How can the Devil hold sins against you, you may wonder? He was once an Angel, a soldier of God. A God who holds many sins and ones that ought not to be broken. Thus why is it such a leap to think that Lucifer himself would have grudges against hell raisers? Against sinners, and blasphemers, rapists and murderers. He takes from God what he will and uses this against him, gaining souls that were meant for Heaven, souls that writhe and scream in endless agony in the fire hole below your feet. Too many have slaved themselves to the will of Satan. He has stolen too many, given none to their rightful place. I am one of those souls. Taken from a life I never really lived. Stolen by an army I never believed in. Imprisoned in a place I hold in fantasy. I was accused of crimes that I surely could not have committed. I was smeared by the Devil himself so that he could add more tallies to his quota. Thievery, pillaging, raping, desecrating a church. All lies! Lies spoken from the lips of Evil, heard by the Holy ears. God still does not exist to me. He only exists as the back that was turned on me in my hour of need. I did not steal, I did not pillage, I am unable to rape and there is no church for me to desecrate for Churches to not stand for me. I did not commit any of the crimes that I was accused of. I committed one crime and one crime only. Murder. The murder of a soul not yet ready to leave its flesh entombment. I believed in nothing but this murder, not even my own substandard life as it were. Nothing was real to me anymore but this murder, this taking of ones life. So I’ve committed the most heinous of crimes, the worst of sins. And here I sit, banished to the beneath, to the Holy Hell of the world. Imprisoned by fire, surrounded by criminals, Lorded over by the darkest of all evil – Lucifer himself. I believed in nothing at the end. Nothing except the fact that I wish to know if I were true. If anything my parents or the Priests or even the Church group said were true. Is there a Heaven? Is there a Hell? Would God punish me and send me to the Devil if I sinned? I still do not believe in Hell. Even as I sit here, the noose still wrapped tightly around my neck, the screams of pain and anguish echoing around me. Even as the sweat slips down my cheeks and drenches my shirt, I confess that I never believed in Hell.