Devil in the Flesh

Have you ever met the Devil? It's a completely serious question. I wouldn't joke around about something like that. So, have you? Have you ever met the Devil himself face to face? Well, I have so let me tell you all about it.

I met the Devil in July of '99. I met him a couple hundred yards from my house where three old logging roads converge and a bubbling creek cuts one of those roads in half. I was standing on one side of the creek and he was on the other a little bit further up but still close enough for me to see him clearly. I didn't know then what prompted the meeting, I was out walking, and all of a sudden he was just there. He was skipping rocks across this muddy water hole that formed when part of the west bank caved into the creek creating a little side body of water about a foot deep and fifteen feet across. His flat rocks seemed to glide uneasily across the surface of the water for what seemed to be a very unnatural period of time.

I looked at him closely and came to realize a few things about old Lucifer. You know the Devil doesn't look anything like I had always imagined he would. There's no blood red skin, no forked tail with a fiery pitch fork; no there's none of that. Actually the Devil looks like a normal guy. He was kind of tall, and slim. He wore faded blue jeans and a white cotton shirt. You would think the Devil's hair would be black, but actually it was golden blond. It was so light that when the sun did peek its way through the overhanging trees and found its place within the golden weaves, the Devil's hair glowed like it was on fire. He wore snake skin boots, and he had a chiseled face with the coldest pure blue eyes I've ever seen. You could stare into those eyes and feel like you were falling forever, but I quickly turned away. I don't know if the Devil has the power to hypnotize, but I wasn't going to take any chances. It's hard to explain how I knew for sure who it was I was looking at. Actually it's not something I can explain at all. I just knew. I just knew that I was standing in front of everything God stood against. It was kind of creepy, but I guess anyone would have been freaked out given the situation.

I didn't say anything to the Devil. Something inside of me warned against speaking first, so I waited, but my wait wasn't long. The Devil squatted down by the running water taking care not to let his boots touch the creek. (I think I read in an old folk tale somewhere that the Devil couldn't cross over running water.) If that was the case then I could see why he was going to great lengths to keep his boots free of the stream. After he established himself in a comfortable position he looked up at me standing there bewildered and began a conversation that in all my life I will never forget.

"Hello there my fine young gentleman," the Devil said with a sly smile, "I'll bet you're wondering why I'm here. Well, I think you'll figure that out in time."

"I'm not sure what to say to you. You are the last person I expected to encounter today."

"The last shall be first, I believe the maker said, but let's not talk about him right now. I've noticed something about you. Yes, I watch you closely, and I've been watching you since you were very young. You have a lot of potential. You're, gifted, shall we say."

"Well, your compliment is well received, but I highly doubt I'm anything special."

"That's where your wrong my friend. I've noticed things about you that you don't even know yourself."

"And what would those things be?"

"Well, for one thing I've noticed the way you interact with other people. You have a great deal of understanding about how they act and why they do the things they do. You have a unique ability to seemingly read peoples thoughts just by looking at their faces and you have the power to convince them to do things that they normally would not do. Remember last week when you went out to that club. You were able to spot a young lady and know right away exactly what you needed to say to win her heart for the evening, and you did. A person with that type of persuasiveness can be a powerful ally."

I thought for a long time about what he said. The wind picked up and violently whipped through the valley tearing leaves and even some branches from the overhead trees. I noticed that even in all the wind the Devil's blond hair never moved. It was like he was unsubstantial to the effects of nature. I didn't speak just then so he continued what he was saying.

"Over the years you've been able to get exactly what you want by always knowing exactly what to say. You're ability to manipulate is beyond comparison upon this earth, and I should know, I've been tricking people into doing what I want for the past 5,000 years. I've become an old pro myself."

"So, that's what this impromptu meeting is all about, you came to compliment me on my ability to persuade? That's kind of a stretch isn't it? I mean it doesn't take much effort to talk a lonely woman into giving me a few hours of her time"

He threw his head back and roared rippling laughter through out the valley.

"How can you be so narrow minded. I wouldn't waste the effort in talking to you if I didn't have a proposition in mind."

He then pointed down at the creek bank near my feet, and there laying just inches from the rushing water was a gun. It was one of the most peculiar guns I had ever laid my eyes on. I picked it up without even thinking. It was a Colt 45. I've been familiar with guns all my life having grown up on a farm where I had often required the use of them. It was one of the old style Colts with the extra long barrel and six bullet chambers instead of five. It was pure silver except for the white bone handle. A handle which felt strange; I ran my fingers over it again and again trying to figure out what was so different about this handle as compared to the countless others I've seen in my lifetime. He seemed to notice my fixation and commented.

"That's not animal bone on the handle there. That's real human bone, but it's not just any human. That handle was crafted from the breastbone of Moses himself."

"Wait a minute," I replied, "Didn't you and the Arc-Angel have a fight over the body of Moses. If my recollection serves me right I believe he won that particular contest."

"Yes, he may have won that war, but not before I was able to claim this one token of victory. Besides I didn't want the whole body anyway. I just wanted this little trophy to adorn my most prized possession."

I continued my examination of the gun. The Devil's gun! Along the silver barrel there were markings, runes of some sort, ancient letters carved into the shinning silver. I tried to make them out but they were too ancient for me. I asked him what they were and he told me that they were ancient Sumerian symbols.

"It's the name Lucifer spelled out in the ancient letters of the men of civilization's dawning. They above all others knew the power of darkness and they worshiped it in all that they did."

I tested the weight of the gun in the palm of my hand. It felt good, like it was meant to be there. I don't know what happened next, but some overwhelming force made me bring the gun up to my head, yet somehow I regained control of my hands and brought it back down almost as quickly as it had found its way up.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked. "Why do you tempt me to take my own life?"

"There are many reasons. Where should I start? I know that deep down you are not a happy man, nor have you ever been close to being happy by any stretch. I'm offering you a way out of that unhappiness, but even more so I'm offering you a place by my side. I want you to be part of my kingdom. I want you to help me control it, to build it up until it rivals the kingdom of God All Mighty himself. I need your power, your ability. With your influence I could win many servants to my table. I could in many respects create an army the likes of which the world has never seen. Then at the opportune moment OUR army will sweep across the face of the earth and the race of man will become slaves in our new earthly paradise. That is what I offer you."

"How can I be of any use to your absurd plan if I'm dead?"

"Death is not an end of things my son, to the contrary it is only the beginning. I can not use you in your physical form. There are far too many obstacles that would hinder you from your work, but as a spirit you will be able to go where I go, and see what I see. You will be able to travel anywhere in the world, and take human form to deceive those I want you to deceive. In essence you will be god-man or part god and part man. I offer this but the first step is one you must take. I have to know if you are willing to do what it takes to receive unending power. I must know how far you are willing to go. That is why the taking of the physical life must be your own doing. That is why you must put that gun to your head and pull the trigger. Then and only then will you be able to take your rightful place at my side, and together we will rule the world until the end of the ages, and in the final battle we will emerge victorious. My son we will claim heaven as our footstool, and we will rise above the power of the All Mighty."

The gun started to spill out some power of influence. It was becoming easier and easier to believe what he was saying to me. Again without even thinking I brought the gun once more to my head and held it there while the Devil looked on like a spectator at some ancient execution. Even to this day I am not entirely sure what happened at that moment, the few seconds when I began to put a little pressure on the trigger of the Devil's gun. In many ways I wanted to escape the life I was living. In many ways I believed that what the Devil told me was right and acceptable. Besides, I was doomed to fail as a human anyway, or at least I thought so at the time. Then in the final moment of my inner desperation just when all hope was lost and I began to give in to the temptations that so easily beguiled me, a bird swooped down from the upper branches of an old pine tree. It was a dove that was the most spotless white I've ever seen. How beautiful was that dove! How glorious in its movements! How graceful! The gun became heavy in my hand; my arm grew tired under its weight and I let it fall from my fingers into the running steam at my feet. I heard the Devil scream a wailing howl that cut through the valley like a knife through soft flesh. It was two screams, one part rage, and the other pain. I will always remember that scream. It still echoes in my dreams sometime. I did not see the Devil depart that day, all I know is that when the white dove disappeared over the blue-gold horizon and I could see him no more I looked back down expecting the Devil to be looking at me in utter rage, but he was not there. I looked into the stream, but his gun was also missing. I began to wonder if all of this had even happened until I saw the one shred of evidence left behind that convinced me I wasn't going crazy. Just across the stream were two boot shaped footprints where the Devil had been standing. They looked like ordinary footprints, with only one difference. The Devil's boots left one tell-tale sign of his presence for there in the mud in the center of his boot heel was his own personal trademark, a five sided star inside a perfect circle.

Years went by before I would ever see the Devil again, yet this time there was no conversation, no offer of eternal power and glory. I was walking one day close to that same place where I encountered him the first time. He didn't come close this time, but I saw him from a great distance upon the ridge that overlooks the three logging roads and the little bubbling creek. He wore the same faded jeans and white t-shirt, and he leaned with his right hand outstretched upon an old black oak tree. I only saw him for a few seconds and then he was gone as quickly as he came. I went up there on that ridge to look for his familiar boot prints once again, but the ground was hard and rocky and there were no prints to be found. I did however find evidence on the old black oak itself. For there where the Devil rested his hand was a burnt palm print, and in the middle of that peculiar palm print was that old trademark, one five sided start in one perfect circle.

That was the last time I ever laid eyes on the Thief of Always. I have never seen him again nor do I wish to in any way. It's very rare that I ever walk in that spot these days, for fear that he will make himself known to me once more. Occasionally fate does require me to walk along the old creek, and even though I haven't seen him in years, sometimes I hear distant footsteps behind me. I turn around always expecting him to be there, but no one ever is, just the lonely space of nothing and the cool breeze of Eastern Appalachia.