For weeks now, Harvey has languished in the dungeon, driven to the brink of madness, oscillating between loneliness and despair as the walls slowly close in on him. At first, he thinks it’s a trick of his mind, this shrinking dungeon—just claustrophobia born of endless suffocating darkness and boredom. But now he realizes he barely has enough room to sit down. The opposing walls have indeed closed in on him, and he can smell the mildewed stone inches from his face.
The ceiling is crowding down on him.
The floor is pushing up.
He is going to die here, squished like a bug.
He should have listened to the surfer kid. Harvey should have eaten all the looney cake and enjoyed his last few miserable days in a blissful sugar-filled delirium. But he refused the food, and now he’s lonely and hungry, and strangely enough, longing for the company of that surfer kid, the little pyromaniac who had been whisked away.
It’s a terrible thing to be alone.
A terrible, terrible thing.
Harvey hangs his head and shuts his eyes, conjuring visions of better days. He remembers the thrill and the joy of those long nights in the woodshed, with those sad and wayward boys, with their pimpled faces and their broken smiles and their whimpering lips. These sweet memories sustain him now, because he’s all alone. He has nothing else.
“You are not alone,” whispers a voice in the darkness.
Harvey jerks his head back in surprise. His pupils dilate, his nostrils flare like a cornered rabbit as he searches the pitch blackness for the source of the sound.
“Who’s there?” he asks.
“A friend,” comes the reply. This is followed by the scraping of metal on stone and then a crumbling, creaking sound. A small square of light appears in front of Harvey, carved out of the opposing wall. A flashlight flickers through the hole, and a pair of human eyes appear in the gap.
“Blessed be those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,” the voice continues breathlessly. “For theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And how are you, my brother?”
“Who are you?”
“A fellow sinner who has come to the light.”
“What light?”
The stranger’s flashlight suddenly stabs through the opening, blinding Harvey. “The light of God, of course!”
Harvey grimaces against the garish radiance, wishing desperately for the cool relief of darkness. “Are you the lunatics I’ve heard digging through the walls?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“We are.”
“You’ve been banging around for weeks. Giving me a wicked headache. They said you’re Pests.”
“We are children of God.”
“Oh, Jesus...”
“Him, too.”
Harvey holds up his manacles and rattles them loudly. “Can you get me out of here, child of God?”
“We’ve going to get all
of you out of here,” the Pest replies. the stranger’s face disappears momentarily, before reappearing with a small silver chain. The flashlight’s beam glints off the metal as he slides it through the opening.
“Can you reach this?” asks the stranger.
“What is it?”
“An emblem of our faith. To ward you against demonic evil.”
Harvey reaches forward hesitantly. With his chained limbs, there is just enough slack to grab the silver crucifix. At first, he is loath to touch it. He’s no fool. If there truly is a God, Harvey doesn’t expect the Lord to look kindly upon him. Most of Harvey’s life has been spent under the presupposition that there is no eternal reckoning for misdeeds; that one may do as they please in the world and take their pleasure heedless of the cost.
Finding himself in Hell was a rude awakening.
But learning that there may be a God after all—that was no less frightening to Harvey.
“Take the cross, keep it,” the stranger insists. “When the time comes, God will protect you.”
“You sure about that?”
“The Lord forgives all those who repent.”
Harvey tucks the silver cross into his palm, squeezing it until the sharp metal bites into his flesh. He enjoys the stinging pain. It reminds him of running his garden shears along the lily white thighs of those quivering boys.
“I repent,” Harvey says. “There, I’ve said it. Now get me out of here.”
“Soon,” says the Pest. His eyes disappear from the opening, and a black stone reappears, sliding back into place.
“Wait!” Harvey shouts. “Where are you…goddamnit, wait!”
But he is met only by silence—and the sullen realization that maybe he spoke a bit too crassly. He should be more careful with his words.
Maybe it’s time for him to stop using the Lord’s name in vain.
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