Disclaimer-This portrayal of hell derives from human understanding according to the truths in Scripture and many hours of research on NDEs. In no way is this portrayal an accurate description of the realities of hell. In a sense, it is a laughable depiction because the spirit dimension is exponentially more real than this time dimension. In our dimension we cannot even begin to imagine hell as it really is. I pray that every soul who reads this will escape hell through the salvation that Christ alone offers. That’s why it’s called salvation.
“Continue gently to lull him in analysis as he wrestles deeper into the ravenous quick sand of his problems, their enormity and, of course, Yah’s apparent indifference,” charged Jezebeth, a superior malignant spirit, head of the southwestern legion and younger beastly cousin of Jezebel.
Billows of thick smoke cleared momentarily revealing her distorted lizard-like face which held deeply set eyes swirling with worlds of evil. In her deep raspy voice, she strictly instructed her minion, Drogan, a twelve-and-a-half foot monster. Beside him covering the walls ran a frantic maze of large cock roaches while the details of his assignment she furthered.
“And as usual, keep him wrapped in the heavy blanket of shame we dressed him in as a youth so as not to allow any ideas of reaching out or fellowship dare take hold in his heart no matter where he treads.”
From the distant lake of fire, millions of overwhelming, blood-curdling screams and wails of suffering and despair resounded. From within the lake, unclean souls cried in the scorching waves making every attempt to climb out, only to be met by surrounding devils that pushed them back into the lava to burn. Throughout the vast desolation everlasting flames danced and crackled. The nauseating stench of burning flesh mingled with sulfur which spewed from crevices in every division throughout the structured maze.
“Yes, Master,” replied Drogan in his grating tongue, hunching in the bleak shadow of Jezebeth’s elaborate cave decorated with gargoyles where she delivered orders and addressed complications by appointment only. Drogan’s severely scarred face and razor sharp fins covering his body caught reflections of the distant flames. His voice churned like grinding gravel.
“I’ll make sure that Jeremy stays cut off and at our disposal,” he assured her.
From various openings above, perishing souls spiraled helplessly down into the shock of the cold black pit. As they fell toward the openings, below them they witnessed a most disturbing sight: panicky outstretched hands with thousands of sickening shrieks and cries for water, rescue, and desperate pleas to warn family and friends.
Once inside, terror swallowed the perishing souls. Absolutely unbearable was the instant sensation of complete isolation and unbearable loneliness. The intensity of the isolation was vastly different from anything they had ever known. It seemed to swallow them alive and gnaw at their souls from within. And the blackness so dark, they could not see their hands in front of their faces. In fact, their every sensation was exaggerated exponentially in comparison to memories of life under the sun. These supernaturally magnified sensations compounded the irrefutable understanding that back in the deceptive dimension of time they had been carefully and cleverly deceived.
Each translucent soul housed its unclean gray mist floating within the rib cage and skull sections of the visible skeleton. Embers burned from within the souls, glowing and flickering intermittently with the flames surrounding them. Gasping for breath in the oxygen-deprived underworld, they struggled against forces of evil pressing in vigorously from every direction. In the darkness, pairs of red beady eyes surrounded them screaming accusations of past sins. Here evil was not just an idea as they had once known, but very much alive and aggressively all-consuming.
New arrivals were greeted with crazy laughter as the flesh was viciously torn in shreds from their bodies. Hoards of eager demons of varying types and sizes, some with spiked claws, expressed enormous satisfaction in such activity. Unfortunately though, the flesh would automatically grow back and the hoards would gladly tear it apart again.
Some of the new arrivals fell past the flesh-tearing demons and quickly sought to fight their way through crowds of burning souls desperately searching for hidden exit tunnels or overlooked spots of reprieve. However, they soon discovered that none existed. Each captive then faced the stunning realization of the magnitude of the choice he made in disregarding the Rescuer of Souls and the perfectly just consequence he faced as a result.
“Detour Lucia,” Jezebeth added with a reptilian snarl as she paused from gnawing off the bulky wart from the front of her shoulder. “If you recall, I informed you last week that she has discovered our Nemesis through her new acquaintance, Julia,” she stated with a subdued hiss. “As for Julia, allow the girl to placate Jeremy with one simple verse, but only for the purpose of feeding her ego, reminding him distinctly that she is older and more spiritual and respectable,” she continued, folding her hairy, deformed arms. “Most importantly, keep her forgetting that the Words are indeed alive and actually have power. “Instead,” she deciphered cleverly, “appeal subtly to her pride, giving her the impression that it is her good behavior that keeps her in His favor and that Jeremy simply needs to emulate her life in order to climb out of his slump.”
“We’ve got another one!” the awaiting demons howled in amusement and eager anticipation.
Meanwhile, on a long narrow ledge against the slimy cave walls, thousands of isolated souls raged aloud and violently cursed God’s just nature. They gnashed their teeth as they fought in vain above the flames to break free from the chains tightly binding their wrists and ankles. They tried unsuccessfully to swat the swarms of flies from their wounds. Passing devils never missed the chance to tease them ruthlessly inflicting lacerations, branding or mockery of lost salvation.
Imposed upon the minds of each captive soul were intense repetitious video images of every opportunity for deliverance that they encountered during their lives, and their casual responses of procrastination or proud argument.
Jezebeth had never permitted Drogan to dwell in close proximity to the more seasoned contenders, such as Julia, for fear of possible indiscretion in his lack of insidious skill. However, with the recent successful overthrow and domination of Jeremy, a spiritual babe, Drogan had proved able and ready for his next challenge.
“Yes, Master, I will do exactly that,” Drogan grumbled, leaning slightly in her direction, “Yet, I beg a question if you will allow it.” Jezebeth sighed in annoyance forcing a putrid belch as a cloud of olive green vapor spewed forth into the air.
“And what would that be?” she allowed resentfully.
“What about Julia’s influence on Lucia, I beg you?” Drogan queried, bowing submissively. Jezebeth paused in contemplation as several pale maggots, one after the other, wriggled out from between her slightly parted, well-baked lips.
Drogan’s inquiry referred to Lucia’s new acquaintance, Julia, a serious threat to the plan of dividing and conquering. She was much more experienced than Lucia, making prayerful advances against the legion in her growing small group and regularly inviting Lucia to attend. Having endured much suffering, Julia walked with a dangerous boldness that had to be thwarted.
“Lucia must not attend the small group,” announced Jezebeth, coughing deeply and spewing out large clots of bloody charcoal. “You will maintain a wall of separation between her and Julia, one that files them in ranks of experience keeping Lucia intimidated by her and the group, and thus prevented from advancing effectively,” she divulged, clearing her throat. The long, thick whiskers protruding from her neck shifted up and down as she spoke.
“Yes,” she continued, “Guide her thoughts so that she views the possibility of attending the group as becoming overly involved and thus suffocating to her,” she asserted, squinting her beady eyes. Swarms of flies gathered around her eyes and mouth. “Focus her sensibilities on the delicate social phobia you’re feeding so as to keep her independent from the group and ineffective at best. Suggest rational justifications in using her time wisely for her remedial studies instead. ” The rugged edges of her mouth curled slightly resting in a devious grin.
“Yes, Master,” replied Drogan, nodding in agreement as he absorbed her every word. His spare blanket of shame he held rolled up under his scaly, black wing.
“Remain standing firm between her and Keith,” Jezebeth added. “Gargan will present Keith with a well-timed new hire at the firm next week. We’ll pierce the fermenting grief from his mother’s death to lay him flat such that he will not have the strength to resist her comforts.”
Behind the wall of chained prisoners lay organized sections designed for personalized torment according to the predominant sin of the captive soul. Complainers, fault-finders and gossips faced being thrown by giant devils repeatedly against walls of piercing needles. Liars and thieves were skinned alive time after time by oversized butcher demons. One particularly gruesome section held pedophiles. They endured systematic torture of the particular body parts they had used to perpetuate their perversion. Next section, quite large, inflicted specialized torment on those who had knowledge of the Truth but had failed to enter in to it, and prevented others from entering. The screams of torment echoing from these chambers were most heinous.
“As for Julia,” Jezebeth continued, “she must immediately associate exclusively with the medical realm any of Jeremy’s troubles. Suggest such helpful, yet clinical ideas, such as seeing the young psychiatrist her father had seen last year so that she will not be prompted to intercede for Jeremy,” Jezebeth directed. “Should it occur to her to do so after all, prompt her piously to add Jeremy to her weekly prayer list which, by the way, is subconsciously becoming a burden to her. Make sure of it. Forbid her to connect or empathize with him,” she commanded. “Keep her heart distant and formal.”
“Yes, Master,” he replied obediently through his gnarled fangs. “Madam, if you will,” he bowed, “allow one more question?”
“Speak,” she quipped.
“I beg you, what have you decided concerning our strategy for the next gathering, My Queen?”
“Of course,” she snarled with disdain. “Keep them all, especially Julia, striving to obtain what has already been given them.” She paused, shifting her focus and slowing her words. “Gouge their sight to the present reward,” she whispered slowly with a look of disdain. “And,” she heaved, “above all, keep every soul firmly under the impression that their sensations define reality. Demolish instantaneously any interest in pursuing any reality or parallel universes outside their dimensional habitat,” she concluded, heaving a sudden breath of impatience. ”I’ve had my fill of you. Be gone!” she barked impatiently, turning her face scornfully from him and examining her claws.
Far behind Drogan, beneath the surface of the rocky precipice devils writhed in small waves as a helpless file of chained souls passed above. Mounds of slithering worms crawled in layers over and through their skeletons as their remaining flesh swung in tatters. They continued along stumbling behind one another in dread of their fate moaning, wailing and even pining for death.
During their lives these particular individuals had deliberately prospered dining lavishly at the expense of the less fortunate. Their cries of anguish and clinking chains resonated with the cracking whip lashes of Vulgus, a Herculean spike-headed demon towering behind them. He took pleasure in delivering each brutal scourging. Before unchaining and slamming each back into his worm-filled, coffin-sized chamber, a fervent mantra he roared. Waving his forked tongue, he boasted, “You fools swallowed the lie… and now your souls are mine!” His mad cackles echoed the invitation to his army of flesh-eating bats: “Vampires,” he summoned his greedy pets, “prepare to dine!”
“Yes, Master. So be it,” replied Drogan obediently to Jezebeth. He bowed his distorted frame before her, raised his leathery wart-covered wings and took flight. A rancid brown haze settled behind him. Immediately through the haze appeared an older demon glimpsing Jezebeth’s countenance then bowing lower than usual before her.
“Punctual,” Jezebeth snapped with an icy edge. “You may speak.”
“Chief Madam,” Raven began, her bravado melting fast as she nervously blinked her bulging eyes. Raven had the face and upper winged bodice of a bat with the lower body of a wild boar the legs of which began trembling as she spoke.
“I b-beg your forgiveness, My Queen, b-b-but in spite of my efforts… S-S-Steven has c-c-crossed over,” Raven painfully confessed, dropping heavily to her hairy knees and tucking her head as her protruding fangs chattered. A tarantula appeared from under her arm and crawled leisurely disappearing across her back. “I assure you…” she pleaded apologetically, “I obeyed your inst-t-t-tructions fully employing e-e-every one of our legion’s tactics b-b-but he persisted in responding to the C-C-Call.” Cowering and trembling, she was well aware of the penalty she would suffer as a result of her grievous failure.
A morose frown crept over Jezebeth’s disfigured face. Her lifeless eyes morphed into flames of wild rage. She folded her crooked arms looking away from Raven in indignation. As she digested the disastrous news, puss oozed from several of the knots in between the few patches of long, protruding black hairs covering her bald head.
Jezebeth sat seething, staring into the darkness beyond the pit out toward the field of crosses which extended back for miles. The field held countless unredeemed souls who had not only refused salvation, but had dared openly to mock the Sacrifice. For eternity they hung suspended in the searing pain of hammered spikes tearing through their radiating medial and metatarsal nerves. A conveyor-belt of gigantic illuminated letters ran endlessly along the ground beneath them: BE NOT DECEIVED; GOD IS NOT MOCKED: FOR WHATEVER A MAN SOWS THAT SHALL HE ALSO REAP.
“I’m certain you are cognizant of the penalty you have earned yourself,” Jezebeth muttered with fury from between gritted fangs, refusing to make eye-contact.
“Yes, M-M-Madam, -I-I-I am,” Raven answered shamefully, her respiration becoming rapid.
“Well, then!” she screamed forcefully at the top of her lungs lunging forward, “what are you doing standing there?! Go now and receive your just punishment!” Throwing out her bony arm she pointed with her crooked, crusty claw as sparks shot out toward the sealed entrance of the torture chamber underneath them.
“Return to me immediately afterwards,” she hissed in indignation.
“Y-y-yes, Madam,” Raven muttered weakly, shuddering in dread. She bowed trembling before her master and took submissive flight toward the chamber.
“My claws!” Jezebeth commanded abruptly her personal slave who stood hidden in the smoke behind her. “Now, Skeletor!” she screamed in rage. She then flared her nostrils and took a slow, deep breath regaining her dignity. She turned her claws up in front of her examining them one by one. Holding them out purposefully at the wrists, she placed them over each squared-off arm of her mammoth stone chair and crossed her legs.
Skeletor dutifully side-stepped the usual serpents slithering beneath his feet and approached her throne with the necessary instruments. As he drew near she threw a disgusted sideways glance at him. “My next pupil’s not for half an hour, you imbecile!” she growled gritting her teeth, “Get busy!” ~
Regardless of what some popular misinformed authors have to say, if we want to learn about a place we’ve never been, we must educate ourselves by asking those who’ve actually been there…
Dr. Rawlings Research of After Death Experiences at spiritlessons.com
More Hell Testimonies:
Bill Weise billweisetestimony
Micky Robinson mickyrobinsontestimony
Ian McCormack ianmccormacktestimony
Ronald Reagan ronaldreagantestimony
ex-atheist Matthew Botsford matthewbotsfordtestimony, CP Living
See also Hell is Real
I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after your body has been killed, has authority to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him.
Anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire.
And he shouted with a mighty voice, She is fallen! Mighty Babylon is fallen! She has become a resort and dwelling place for demons, a dungeon haunted by every loathsome spirit, an abode for every filthy and detestable bird.
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the athe heavenly realms
2 Corinthians 10:4-6
The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. And we will be ready to punish every act of disobedience, once your obedience is complete.
Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.
1 Peter 5:8
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour
1 John 4:4
You are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world.
But now since you have been set free from sin and have become the slaves of God, you have your present reward in holiness and its end is eternal life.
1 John 5:4-5
for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith. Who is it that overcomes the world? Only the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God