I Heard Voices After Dreams Of Death And The Reaper After I Tried To Sell My Soul To The Devil.

by Glenn
(United States)

I was parked in front of my bank located at a plaza alongside many other stores. Because it was hot, I opened my car door and left it slightly ajar while I sat for a minute or so organizing documents that I needed to submit for a credit line/ overdraft protection account.

Just as I started to exit the vehicle, with one foot firmly planted on the parking lot asphalt and the other still anchoring me to the carfloor, I heard two quick voices speaking in what sounded like a rather casual but passive tone. The first one (borderline female but could be either), "He is kind of cute though..." Speaking as if he/she could've been second-guessing a prior statement. The other voice now a bit more manly and decisive, but still somewhat withdrawn chimed in, "Yeah but he doesn't have a soul."

At first I thought people were somewhere near me, talking about me, but I looked around and didn't see anyone standing anywhere close enough to project voices like theirs within earshot of me. Then I saw that two people were sitting at a small table inside the cafe. The cafe's windows were like the ones found at most strip malls with what basically amount to non-opening windows for walls lining the front half of the plaza.

They weren't looking directly at me nor I at them, but both appeared to be male. As I walked up onto the sidewalk in front of the cafe and turned toward my bank I noticed them turn their heads just slightly in my direction.

I still feel the voices might have been coming from somewhere a person was standing outside where I couldn't see them, but I'm really not sure I will ever know...I had actually tried to sell my soul to the devil once in the depths of depression. The signature was penned in blood and all, but I never burnt up the paper because I felt unsure so I didn't really think it was official.

At this point I'm realizing how crazy I sound but I don't care. It's nice to tell strangers things like these and retain some anonymity. It lets me be more honest. The next thing I'm going to tell you is not exaggerated at all, I remember every detail and will relate them all. It's about this dream I had last year before the voice incident, but after I tried to sell my soul to the Devil.

I sort of accidentally drifted off to sleep around 6 pm when I was trying to study on an evening in May of 2010. I woke up to an unfamiliar purple twilight sky outside with all four of my limbs chained to a log lying alongside a dusty dirt road. I couldn't move or scream for help at all. Nothing came out when I tried to talk. I noticed that at the head of the road a line (my skin is getting the strongest goosebumps I've ever felt in my life while I am typing at this very moment)...

Ok... I noticed a line of figures (every word that I type regarding what I saw triggers the goosebumps and they get progressively stronger the faster I type unless it's not about my dream)--I turned the light on, I think I'm just freaking myself out now so I'll push through the goosebumps--

So a line of what appears to be people draped in all black hoods (honest to god it feels like something wants to swallow me and I just heard a creaking sound, but I have to relate this whole series of events to someone that can make better sense out of it or at least understand me)

They're walking down the road toward me, maybe twenty of them in two lines side by side and ten rows back. The one at the head of the line close to outside of the road pulls a long silver dagger from his or its sleeve. They (omg my scalp is moving when I type and my head is tight) they encircle me, he drops the dagger in my chest, they disperse, I watch (more noise outside now I'm glad the sun is coming up finally.

I watched dark thick blood drain from my body...
This is where it gets weird cuz at this point I think I wake up to my bedroom as it was before I started dreaming, but it's a lot darker and my lamp wasn't on as I had left it cuz I was studying. I try to turn the lamp on. It doesn't work. (I think I might cry really). Then I see the man in the corner.

Same room I'm typing this from. I'm petrified, but can't stop peering through the dark at him. He doesn't move just watches me. I get up as fast as I can to the door it's locked I can't get out (my heart just started skipping beats it feels like, heavy in my throat). He just turns and keeps watching. I look at him again...

It's me, shirtless, leaning against the corner with dried blood allover my chest and black holes for eyes, absolutely no emotion showing, no animosity, no sadness, not a drop of anything on his/my face. It appears to be a lifeless version of me staring back at me.

Then the floor rumbles and something in the double door closet makes a splintering sounds. I keep pulling and pulling on the door hand but can't get it open. A SKELETON HAND THE SIZE OF A SMALL NIGHT STAND TOP REACHES THROUGH BETWEEN THE DOORS. opens them and a ten foot reaper in black tatters, more real than any of the ones from any movie I've ever seen. He has a cane in his hand, but I don't remember if there was a blade at all. He takes two steps toward the center of the room and turns toward me. Pulls down his hood. just lifeless dry sockets for eyes on a skull the size of a backboard square. He's covered in moss. Now standing between me and the lifeless thing in the corner.

With my body ice cold I shift the door off of its hinges somehow using more will more strength I've ever put toward anything in my life and I run down the halls straight out the front door and into the street... Outside the sky was still purple.

Then I woke up and went to the living room where my dad was watching TV and told him what happened. It touched me pretty deep.

I don't know what to make of all this. Theoretically if I had sold my soul to the Devil one could make a bunch of assumptions of what the dream meant or what it meant for me. I've considered a plethora of different possibilities and at different times wholeheartedly believed them, but something changes and I somehow see the story different every time I look back. Not the details differently but the meaning.

I read The Four Agreements a while back and thought what happened to me was meeting the angel of death and confronting him, but I didn't really confront him I ran away. He wasn't threatening at all toward me just scared the shit out of me. I wish I'd stood my ground, he even took his hood down as if using indoor mannerisms.

Now I wonder, a part of me does, the other part won't let me believe it though. I wonder if it was my soul in the corner with blood all over it, the reaper seemed to move so non-threateningly and at an even pace. Almost like he was just picking up a package for delivery. My soul, but not my body. The ritual complete, I'd been prepped and packaged for some kind of delivery to the Devil.

But I don't even go to church. I've not really had any sort of faith besides agnostiscism since I was 14 or 15 some 8 years ago now. If anyone has anything to add or wants to talk about similar experiences just comment.

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