Kaleidoscopic Hell

By Jesse V. Coffee

That’s the last time I hit a frat party at Daemonium Biblical College.

Did you know that the night before Halloween is referred to as Devil’s Night? The real night of Trick or Treat. And the night that every frat and sorority on campus decided to get wild. My best friend wanted to go. Her boyfriend was in the PolyOmega fraternity. I figured, sure. We can keep each other pure, fight off the horny frat boys. So, I went with her, carrying my can of pepper spray in my pocket. I was damned if I was going to carry my purse with me. I stuck my dorm key in my sock and brought nothing more than my school ID and my driver’s license, that I stuck in my back pocket.

See, I was still a virgin in those days. I know, I know. It’s old fashioned to want to save yourself for marriage, but the truth was, with all the diseases flying around, pregnancy was just a small part of it. I didn’t expect any of these guys to have condoms and I wasn’t in the mood for it with anyone I didn’t know. It just seemed safer. You know?

I saw it as soon as we walked in the door. Halloween. I should have known that this was going to get crazy. An upside down pentacle on the floor. The frat boys were all dressed in black.

“Great. A bunch of Satanist wannabes.” I grabbed her sleeve. “This is not a good idea. We need to beat feet.”

“Come on, Jamie,” she said. “It’s just a party. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Bullshit, I thought. But she drove. And I didn’t feel like walking the mile to the sorority dorms. But I had my hand in my pocket, hanging on to the pepper spray. Come near me and you’re gonna get the surprise of your life, dirt bag.

I was given a cup of what tasted like hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps in it. Oh, I love that stuff. I could drink my weight in it. The boys started their party—if you wanna call it that. And that feeling of needing to run just kept getting stronger and stronger. But that drink was getting to me. My spidey sense said go, but my feet said, up yours. I wasn’t moving. They started chanting in deep voices, saying shit that I had no idea what it was they were saying.

Lainie left me at that point, to walk through the crowd and I told myself, Jamie, this ain’t no party and it damn sure ain’t no disco. There will be absolutely no fooling around. I swallowed the rest of the drink as she was escorted to a sort of a table and after they stripped her bare, they laid her on it. And, if a bunch of sick jerks have anything like love in ‘em, they lovingly laid her on it.

The world started to spin a little. And I hear this voice in the back of my head. A voice that sounded like it had seen way too many cigarettes, because it was raspy and really deep. My eyes darted around, trying to find who was talking, but none of them were facing me.

She’s not a virgin. She is unacceptable. You promised me a virgin.”

My body was going numb, my skin tingling as it did. The chanting faded slowly, slowly disappearing into what little light there was in this room and that was fading too. Did I imagine being lifted? I don’t know because the darkness was invading my sight until all I knew was black. I felt nothing. Saw nothing. Heard nothing. What the…what is going on?

The drink had to be spiked but with what?

Am I dying? Why can’t I see? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?

Then it began.

My senses were assaulted by colors and smells. The scent of rot and syrupy flesh. Rotted fruit, that’s what it smelled like. And underneath that, if death had a smell, it was meat that had spoiled after being out in the sun for too long. That disgusting, cloying smell of maple syrup and maggots and trash and puke. I wanted to puke. And I hate to puke. But I wanted to. And I wanted to stop breathing. If I stopped breathing, then the smell wouldn’t go up my nose or in my mouth.

The colors; oh my God, the colors. I had an uncle that grew up in the sixties that told me about his first LSD trip. The closest I ever came was a peyote button, but I totally got it. This was exactly like that. My head filled with colors, changing shapes and sizes. A constant and ever present kaleidoscope of reds and yellows and oranges and greens and blues. I was wrapped in a blanket of colors. It wasn’t just that flood, it was the sense of heat from the reds and oranges. The freezing from the blues and greens.

What? After I chose to honor you?

I could hear screaming now. The feeling was slowly coming back into my body and that heat in my belly was painful. And icy cold. The screaming was louder and louder. I was fighting, trying to move. If I could feel, I had to be able to move. I must be able to move. I needed to move!

I heard my own voice now. “Honor? What do you mean honor? Let me go. Get out of my head and let me go. What are you doing to me? Who are you?”

You’ll see, my pet. It’s getting quite fun out here. I suppose I could give you a taste of the delights.”

More screaming. Male. Female. The sound of things hitting the wall. Bodies flying into furniture and floor. Angry screaming. Frightened screaming. And always with the colors like a nonstop stream of vomit over me, around me, through me. The pain was intense. Still intense. I felt it flying up my throat and out my mouth. The place between my thighs was throbbing with its own pain, deep inside my womb.

I felt buffeted around, browns and blacks battering my hips and belly. My legs and ribs. I couldn’t find my arms, so I couldn’t fend off the blows. More screaming. An angry voice was filtering through. Whoever it was, was severely pissed off. I stopped struggling, not wanting to see who the cursing person was. I didn’t want to be anywhere near whoever that was. Growling. Fury.

Fun, isn’t it?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

No. But I’ll show you. And I always say, let my will be done.”

Slowly the pain abated. Slowly the colors faded down from the bright attack, dulling down to the black again. And then, the darkness faded back, light returning to the room. My vision returning from the cloud. I was still in the room, but I was the one lying on the altar.

My clothing had been ripped to shreds. My panties were shredded and on the floor in front of the altar. God, my crotch felt raw and throbbed inside and out. I felt a wetness between my legs and reached down to feel my thighs were wet. My fingers came away from my crotch, red with blood. My blood. My head hurt so bad that I wanted to close my eyes; it felt like a railroad spike was being driven into my third eye. My body had been abused, sexually and physically. Hot tears gathered at the outside corners of my eyes.

But the best—if I can be permitted a bit of irony—was yet to come.

I managed to sit up, cradling my poor womb as I dragged myself into a sitting position. Was I alone? Depends on how you define the term. See, there were bodies everywhere. They’d been ripped, beaten, stabbed. Every frat boy, every girlfriend and piece of ass. Slung to the far corners of the room, hanging over pieces of furniture or dotting the floor like so many meat throw rugs.

My dear. I must make sure never to make you angry.”

I looked around. “Where are you?”

Everywhere. Nowhere. Within you. Without you. And you will now worship me. I own you.

“No. No, you don’t.” I surveyed the room again. “What happened? How did this happen? Who did this?”

You did, my dear. When they sacrificed your virginity—I should say, I was the one who took it. And it was sweet. But you took it out on these little bastards. I accept your gift, my love”

He was tall, with skin like black leather. Cloven hooves. Bull like horns protruding from his head. It looked like a sick Halloween costume. Until he got closer and I realized how real it all was.

“Oh God,” I whispered. I was hurting really bad. Mostly in spots, but all over, really.

Mmm. Well, not really. Not even remotely close. But, I have my purposes.

“Where’s my friend?”

She was in the corner wailing. As painful as it was to get down, I managed to come closer to her. “Lainie!”

She was also covered in blood, only her eyes somewhat pristine. And they were wide open in terror. She screamed and cringed away from me.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s over. There were drugs in that cocoa, honey. I’m me again. It’s okay.”

She let me hold her and I helped us both stand. We made our way to the door, grabbing her purse and keys off the floor. We made it back at her car and I drove us back to the dorm. We got inside and scrubbed that damn blood off. And never spoke of it again.

I was in a lot of pain for a week after. Took a lot of Aleve and Advil to dull it down, but never knock it back. I took that week off from classes and decided it was time well spent. I also got prescribed the morning after pill. I was not going to have a baby by anyone.

The police were called into the frat house the next morning. Yeah, sure, they investigated. But there wasn’t anything in terms of evidence. No witnesses either. So, after a couple of months, it was forgotten.

As for the…demon? Devil? I never saw him again either. And I never want to. I’ve got enough shit going on in my life.

About Jesse

Jesse V Coffey has a  love of all things paranormal with a splash of pagan and historical. She is the author of The Savior and paranormal thriller, A Wager of Blood. She lives and writes in Lexington, KY