23 Minutes in Hell

One night I was catapulted to the very pit of hell--a terrible place of grotesque creatures, toxic fumes, and terrible darkness.

BY: Bill Wiese

 

Continued from page 2

The Living Dead

I pleaded for mercy, but they had none—absolutely no mercy. They seemed to be incapable of it. They were pure evil. No mercy existed in that place. Mercy is from God in heaven.



The mental anguish I felt was indescribable. Asking for mercy from such evil only seemed to heighten their desire to torment me more.



I was conscious of the fact that there was no fluid coming from my wounds. No blood, no water, nothing. At this time, I did not stop to wonder why. I was extremely nauseous from the terrible, foul stench coming from these creatures. It was absolutely disgusting, foul, and rotten. It was, by far, the most putrid smells I have ever encountered. If you could take every rotten thing you can imagine, such as an open sewer, rotten meat, spoiled eggs, sour milk, dead rotting animal flesh, and sulfur, and magnify it a thousand times, you might come close. This is not an exaggeration. The odor was actually extremely toxic, and that alone should have killed me.

Instinctively, I just knew that some of the things I experienced were a thousand times worse than what would be possible on the earth's surface—things such as the odors mentioned, the strength of the demons, the loudness of the screams, the dryness, and the loneliness felt.

Somehow I managed to move a bit and dragged myself across the ground toward the barred door. I couldn't see, but I remembered the direction of the door that had been left open. I finally made it to the door and crawled out of the cell. Apparently, the creatures allowed me to crawl out without stopping me.

As soon as I exited the cell, my first instinct was to get as far away as possible. Again, I desperately wanted to run. All I could think of was to get up onto my feet. However, every move to get up took great effort. I remember wondering, Why is this so difficult? After tremendous exertion, I was finally able to stand. I was thoroughly exhausted and, at the same time, very frustrated at how hard simple movement had become. Although I was now outside the cell, I could not run, and fear continued to bind itself around me as a snake constricting its prey.

I was horrified as I heard the screams of an untold multitude of people crying out in torment. It was absolutely deafening. The terror-filled screams seemed to go right through me, penetrating my very being. I once heard about a television special where a news reporter spent the night in a prison just to experience prison life firsthand. The prisoners were crying, moaning, and yelling all night long. He stated that he couldn't sleep because of all the noise. This place where I now stood was far, far worse.

Through the panic and the deafening noise, I struggled to gather my thoughts. I'm in hell! This is a real place, and I'm actually here! I frantically tried to understand, but it was just so inconceivable. Not me, I'm a good person, I thought. The fear was so intense I couldn't bear it, but again, I couldn't die. I knew that most people up on the surface of the earth did not believe or even know that there was a whole world going on down here. They wouldn't believe it. But here it existed, and it was all too real. This place was so terrifying, so intense, and so hostile that it would be impossible for me to exaggerate the horror.

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