The Final Hour

Early this morning, when he knocked upon my door. I said, "Hello Satan, I believe it is time to go." My door was already open when he arrived. Whether it was left ajar or torn from its hinges no longer matters. Why he came through it was not questioned. Only welcomed.

He knocked. He always does. Something so old with manners still is quite refreshing. That’s why I always have sympathy for the devil. Me and the Devil walking side by side… I remember the moment he stepped into the world. It was a knock. Soft. Three times. Always a knock. And the door opened. Because someone, somewhere, always opens it. And I…I watched from the other side. You saw them in the first hour. You felt him in the second. And by the third…

Well…

You let us in. He didn’t win because he was strong. He won because you were tired. And he always waits. I didn’t stop you. I didn’t help him either. That’s not my role. I only watch. I am not here to stop what happened or what will happen. I am here. I am there. I will remain through the last velvet hour. You thought you understood what true horror is. You think it’s Gods and Monsters. No.

Real horror is certainty. Certainty that a held match is enough to set the world on fire. I remember it all. I remember when the monsters came. Not from elsewhere, but from inside. Monsters that bite. Monsters that drain. Some monsters transform. All monsters stain. You didn’t recognize the werewolves because their innocence shone in the daytime. You didn’t recognize the vampires because they blend in well with the allure of the night. You didn’t see the demons until they knocked. Three times.

The Devil walked beside you. He nudged your jealousy. He watered your insecurities. He nurtured the roots of sin with patience and softness. He did all of this without touching a soul. Just whispers. I do not weep for this world. That is not my burden. There is no salvation left. No final page to this story that rewrites the past. I am not here to punish you. I am not here to save you. I am simply here. With you. At the end. I am not immune to what I see. I am not unmoved. But I do not act because I am The Witness, and I see it all. Me and the Devil. Walking side by side.