ightmares awaited me that night, the first night of my fifty first year on this fallen world, a nightmarish descent into hell which has been seared into my mind as clearly as my mother’s own face. My only hope to make sense of it, to come to terms with it, is to record it here in my journal. It started with a shock, I jolted awake and my soul sat up, but my body remained in my rough cot. Then, just as suddenly the ground opened up and I fell into a chasm, to be consumed by a burning flame.
The flame cleared, the pain subsided, but looking down I could see a hellish landscape below me, stretching out into infinity. The terrible demon Asmodai reared up over the plains. He put his heads down, about to charge and I could count the horns as they pointed at me. I thought for a moment he was going to skewer me on one of them but as I looked away I saw another demon facing him. The great Balam, also ready to charge, each horn seemed razor sharp and fixated me before they both charged, ready to gore at one another. Before they clashed I was spirited away to further, to more terrifying visions, deeping into hell.
Next I came upon a ruined keep, on top of the stone walls more demons awaited me. The first Duke Barbatos, second Marquis Samigina and third was Marquis Amon, just as Solomon had described them, resplendent and glorious and terrible all at once. They were in council, discussing infernal matters so horrifying that I cannot put them to paper. I wept and wailed to hear it. As they departed that place so did I, pulled away by the same invisible force that had brought me here.
ater rose up below me, a vast sea of nothingness. Or at least I thought it was nothingness at first. As I descended to the surface I saw it was ice, waves and ripples frozen as if time had stood still, and in that wasteland of ice was a grand arch.
Guarding that arch was a group of men, or what looked like men. Their leader had the appearance of a bearded man but I recognised him as a demon from the keep. “Take these gifts and pass through” he intoned and gestured to his crowned companions. Each of them stood forwards and, in turn, counted out four golden coins into my hand before the demon dashed forwards, grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and threw me through the arch.
I tumbled through the air and tumbled further still once I had passed through, the landscape beyond nothing like the icy wastes I had left behind. I came to a stop at the edge of a cliff, scrabbling to avoid falling. Looking down I saw a great battle between demonic hosts. I heard a great roar and saw Paimon himself at the head of all his legions charging into the fray. Against him was a much smaller host but it’s demonic commander raised a hand holding a snake and great towers rose from the plains. For each of Paimon’s legion dashed against the walls, two of his foe’s were slain and in the end he was victorious. Next his host rounded on more hellish legions, demons and spirits combined. At their head was a twisted perversion of a unicorn and both armies battled once more. The new foe fought even more fiercely than the last and for each legion slain Paimon lost one of his own, until at last only his own armies remained. I could count them from that clifftop vantage, each flying their own nightmarish pennants, but in that moment I was whisked away, up into the clouds.
I woke, drenched in sweat but whole. The dream felt real, it felt like it was telling me something, but I knew not what. Rereading my account I am still none the wiser, but maybe a reader who still has their wits intact can succeed in finding meaning where I have failed.