Hellhounds

Hellhounds nipping at my heels, will I get away? I have seen the brilliance of heaven and the shadows of hell, but neither held any allure for me. In a haze of alcohol, I made a careless toast with a stranger, promising my soul for a taste of Bukowski’s infamy. I never imagined a demon would be eavesdropping on my drunken bravado. Let me recount the tale of why I abandoned whiskey. One night, after too much of it, I fell into a deep, restless sleep. I awoke to find myself in a strange, foreboding place. A demon, unmistakably so, stood before me. My eyes focused on a grim scene: a crematorium, with an empty wooden casket on a conveyer, waiting. The demon spoke, its voice a chilling whisper. "I've heard you, Nina. I'm here to grant your plea in exchange for your soul." I laughed, thinking it all a surreal joke. But the demon’s eyes remained cold and serious. In my inebriated state, I mocked the offer. "If my soul is that valuable to you, I guess I’ll keep it."Hellhounds nipping at my heels, will I get away? The demon's patience wore thin. With a furious glare, it seized me and flung me into the coffin, which I now realized had been prepared for me. The lid slammed shut, and I was hurled into the roaring flames. I screamed in terror, "God, I said no! God, I said no!"I awoke, drenched in sweat and fear, the smell of smoke lingering in my nostrils. That nightmare was a stark warning. From that day, I swore off whiskey, vowing to be mindful of my words, for one never knows who might be listening. Hellhounds nipping at my heels, will I get away?