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“Look inside your Woodshed”

You can’t really summon a demon; if it were that simple, everyone would be doing it.

You can, however, ask questions. Sometimes, a demon might be listening. And very occasionally, a demon will answer.

But demons don’t speak through the gentle guiding claw atop your quivering hand caressing a Ouija planchette, or with a vague, shadowey shape glimpsed fleetingly within a mirror. Demons never tread softly. A whisper is incomprehensible to them. When a demon speaks to you, you’ll know. Believe me.

There was a man, let’s name him David, who loved his three young children more than anything else in the world after his wife died all too young from a cruel, quick illness.

David wanted only the very best for his children. But though they grew healthy, bold and happy, David grew incredibly afraid that he wouldn’t live to see his children achieve their ambitions. His health was wracked by twenty years working hard in a coal-mine, and though his fears were a little extreme, one night after his children were tucked in bed, he asked of the darkness one simple question.

“I want to know what will happen to my children.”

Demons always obey the letter of the law, rather than the spirit.

David was told to look inside his woodshed. There he saw a vision. He saw his children dead. They were older, but a father recognises his children’s faces. His son was burnt pitch-black like a lump of coal, and his twin daughters were mangled and elongated, with tyre-marks stamped into their skin.

David burned his woodshed down to the ground that night, telling his children that it was “old, and bad.”

But he could never forget the demonic prophecy. And he devoted his remaining years to desperately preventing the fates he’d seen.

He forbid his daughters from ever crossing the street, driving them to school each day for a decade. He filled his son’s bedroom with every kind of smoke-alarm imaginable, and instilled in the boy a real fear of anything incendiary.

But as his daughters reached their teens, they rebelled against his overbearing ways. One day, outside the high-school gate, an argument ensued, and the girls sprinted away in anger, straight into the path of an approaching schoolbus.

David was inconsolable. To outlive his children is every father’s worst fear. Frantic at the thought that he might somehow cause his son’s death, too, he sent the boy away to a boarding school, and then took desperate steps.

But his son, worried for his fragile father, took a train home that night, and upon entering the house he flipped on a light-switch, not realising that a tormented David had rested his head inside a gas-stove. The terrible explosion shook David awake, and with a dying eye he saw his son charred like barbecue. As burning beams buried them both, David’s torment was such that it actually proved a comfort to tell himself that he might already be in Hell.

submitted by /u/Hack_Shuck
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