Back when I was in high-school for a literature class, we had to write a paper for class and it could be on anything that we wanted. We has just finished reading "The Screwtape Letters" - by C.S. Lewis in class and I had enjoyed the story so much that I decided to write a short fiction piece about it.
It is a story about a reporter who goes down into the depths of hell to get a last interview with the character "Wormwood" just before he is to be devoured by the devils of the Tempters Training College.
This was written back was in high-school but I'm still proud of it to this day and I thought that I would share. Enjoy.
From the Mouth of the Worm
By: H. E. Robinson
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Down seven stories, through seven impenetrable gates, lies one of the most dank, dark, filthy places in our world. It is festering with trapped souls of apostates, Pharisees, betrayers, and of course, email spammers and the people who send email chain letters. The simmering, brimstone filled core, itself, is known as "the seventh circle of hell." The smells down in the lower levels of hell are deliciously rank, and the screams from the trapped souls are comforting to the ears, as long as they are from someone else. I wish never to see the place again. It is my opinion that if our novice tempters were exposed to the lower circles before they received their assignments, and then frequently reminded that they would end up here if they failed, our own would not be so inclined to 'mess up' in their assignments.
What was I doing in the seventh circle of hell you might ask? I'm sure the word has reached my readers about the feast to take place at the T.T.C (Tempters Training College.) for young devils. I was there to retrieve the story from the main course himself, a novice tempter who goes by the name of Wormwood, the alleged nephew to Screwtape who is the guest of honor at this year's T.T.C annual dinner.
The poor man excuse me, devil, looked already the worse for wear, thin, shriveled, and half gnawed on already, as though someone had snuck in for an early snack before the festivities began. He shied away from me at first, as though I was one of those few who had come for a "taste" of him myself. After convincing him who I was, and that I wasn't there to devour him, he was more inclined to share his story with me. Here follows the actual interview from the mouth of the worm:
"Thanks for agreeing to talk to me mister Wormwood. I mean before we lost the chance forever to get your side of the story." – Author.
"You mean before the T.T.C annual dinner I suppose? Yes, that is a time I do not look forward to. And it's coming up far to fast for my liking. No, after you explained why you were here, I saw no reason against giving you what you came for. I decided it would be wise to pass on 'my' side of the story before the inevitable happens." – Wormwood.
"About your side of the story, mister Wormwood, that's why I'm here. Since you brought up the Tempters Training College, why don't we start there? The day you graduated from the T.T.C." – Author.
"My graduation from the T.T.C. was one of the highlights of my existence. Though with my uncle being who he was… I suppose you know who my uncle is… Of course you do, how could you not? But anyway, with my uncle being Screwtape, you can imagine the type of expectations I was expected to live up to. I couldn't have been more excited to get my first assignment and get out into the field. Everyone; Screwtape, all my teachers, even the principle of the T.T.C. Doctor Slubgob, all of them said I would go far and recommended me to the highest stations. Everyone believed I would go far like my uncle." – Wormwood.
"What do you think went wrong with your assignment? From my research it seemed to have started off well." – Author.
"That's the irony of the thing though isn't it? My assignment did start off well. Like any beginning tempter, though, I felt like I needed advice, so I enlisted help from my uncle Screwtape. He'd give me little pointers here and here, advice on which ways of tempting were best in which situations. And progress was going well, that is, until my assignment became a Christian." – Wormwood.
"How did you and Screwtape communicate?" – Author.
"Oh, well, we wrote letters back and forth. I'd write him about the week and what things were going on in the man's life. And what I was doing to lead him down the path we wanted him to go. I'd ask him questions and write about what I thought and felt. Then he'd write back and give me advice on what to do in situations." – Wormwood.
"And what was his reaction to your assignment becoming a Christian?" – Author.
"He was displeased, and he was quick to inform me that I would be punished for letting the man join the church. But he then quickly informed me of ways that I could use the church for my advantage." – Wormwood.
"What can you tell me about your workings with a tempter named, Glubose?" – Author.
"Glubose….? Oh, Glubose, the tempter in charge of my assignment's mother. Right, right, right, right! Well, Screwtape suggested that I kept in touch with him so we could have my assignment and the mother play off each others irritations, and it worked fairly well." – Wormwood.
"When the 'war' started, everything changed again didn't it?" – Author.
"I admit I grew, overly excited when the Europeans started one of their wars….And Screwtape…" - Wormwood.
Here he paused, looking rather irritated over some matter or memory he wasn't too fond of. His countenance changed to reflect a fouler mood then he was already in when I arrived. The next few minutes were passed in silence, creating an uncomfortable edginess to the small cell we were in. Eventually though, he seemed to relax a little and he looked over at me, giving me a weary but apologetic smile.
"I am sorry; it's just that thoughts of my uncle Screwtape have me on an edge. You see, Screwtape, although an under-secretary of a department, is a prideful, self loving, arrogant, old… and pardon my language, Satanic twit. You know he actually said that the T.T.C. was falling to pieces ever since Slubgob became the head of it? And he's the guest of honor." – Wormwood.
"Your uncle treated you badly?" – Author.
"Treated me badly, no, at least not in the since that you mean. He would just berate me when I did something wrong. Scorn me if I thought I was doing something right." – Wormwood.
"And after that, what happened between you and your uncle?" – Author.
"After talking about the war, things sort of got good again. My assignment was introduced to some friends who were focused on things of the world, people who were such consistent scoffers, and who were progressing very comfortably on their way down to our father below. Then things turned again as I made another blunder." – Wormwood.
"What was your mistake?" – Author.
"After all the work that I had done to get my assignment into a lifestyle where things revolved around the world, and the 'right' way to live, and the 'right' friends to have, I allowed him to enjoy a 'real' pleasure. I allowed him to slip through my fingers and read a book he enjoyed, have a walk he found refreshing, and have 'real' time to himself. And as my uncle Screwtape pointed out, that was a big mistake." –Wormwood.
"Is that when you lost the assignment, after you allowed him this 'real' pleasure?" – Author.
"No, but that surely was the beginning of the whole thing. After that incident, we tried everything to get a hold of him again. Screwtape vocalized his concern that my assignment had only attended the church he converted to, and that he wasn't fully pleased with it. So we tried making him a 'taster' of churches, we tried everything from reactions on the war, gluttony, sexual tendencies, everything. It went both ways. Good, then bad, then good again. Most of the letters from my uncle were lectures on sexual temptations. And the way to go properly about pulling it off so that it best benefited my purposes. He would nag me about reports on the girls that situated themselves around my assignment. He would berate me about The Enemy and how he 'loved' the animals, in his sick way. Eventually, though, the process of 'love' fell through when he was introduced to a true Christian." – Wormwood.
"Pardon me Wormwood, could I ask you about the secret police investigation on your uncle Screwtape? What was the cause of that?" – Author.
He thought for a moment, trying to figure out the answer. Getting a grasp on the distant memory, he tossed his head back and laughed for the next three minutes, tears of laughter came to his eyes before he was able to compose himself to speak again.
"Oh that! In some of his earlier letters, Screwtape had mistakenly mentioned that the Enemy truly loves the humans. I had grown angry with my uncle's lecturing so I had reported to the secret police that he had mentioned these views and what he had said about Slubgob in hopes that they would arrest him and I would be rid of him. Unfortunately it didn't work out as I had hoped. He was even kind enough to send me a wonderful booklet issued on the new House of Correction for Incompetent Tempters, the illustrated version. One of the most interesting books I've ever read, or ever will, for that matter." – Wormwood.
"I've read it. Now what was your uncle's reaction to your assignment falling in love with the Christian girl you mentioned?" – Author.
"At first he was absolutely livid about it. I would have loved to see the day when he wrote that letter. To be in the room when he wrote it to me, to see the spectacle for myself, I'm so sorry that I missed it. Apparently from his letter, he worked himself into a rage by going on and on about the girl, her entire family, and their household, how their whole household carried a stench. The dog and cat carried it, the gardener, and the guests after they left. But I'm getting off the subject. He worked himself into such a rage that he assumed the form of a large centipede and had to have his secretary Toadpipe finish the letter for him. I would have loved to see him like that." – Wormwood.
"You mean to tell me he actually turned into a large centipede?" – Author.
"Apparently yes, I would have loved to see that. Wouldn't you have?" – Wormwood.
"Can't say that I would. I myself took on the form of large beetle for a time after I lost my temper once. But please, continue, what happened after that?" – Author.
Wormwood continued to smile at me in an uneasy manner that made me feel rather disgusted at being near him. I was unsure if he was smiling at the fact that his uncle had turned into a large centipede, or the fact that I had taken on the form of a large beetle. Still smiling at me, he willingly went back to the interview.
"We talked a little about the girl. Tried some things with his sense of humor, tried some things with the girl and my assignment's chastity. Then new possibility fell into our lap with the war that was going on. We didn't want him to die, and run into the possibility of being snatched away from us by the enemy. As it turned out, my assignment turned 'yellow-belly'. He got frightened and all the pride we had taught him to feel went down the drain. Because he was a coward, he felt shameful about himself and no pride in what he had done. Then, just like that, we lost him." – Wormwood.
"You lost him? How precisely did you lose him, just like that?" – Author.
"Well, he died. No doctor's offices, no nursing homes, nothing. The moment was to a point of war-fare and noise that it was most glorious. And then we lost him when he died instantaneously….He slipped though my fingers at the last moment and was taken by them." – Wormwood.
"Them?" – Author.
"Yes them! For the first time he saw me for what I really was and what moments in his life I was involved in. Their presence was painful, bright, excruciating. It was hard to believe that he could confer with them as easily as he conferred with others of his kind. Just being in their presence burned me and I lost him. He slipped through my fingers. I had failed my assignment and I knew what I was in for. So I sent quick word to my uncle Screwtape begging him, asking him if his love for me was true or all a lie. His response was confirmed my fears. After that I knew I was going to be devoured. He expressed his anticipation of being able to eat me, just as I had hoped to eat him if he had given me the wrong advice." – Wormwood.
We sat in silence for a while. Then the door opened and I exited the room. Behind me came the guards with Wormwood, and I watched as the back of the worm vanished toward the banquet hall. As I stood there, a guard tapped my shoulder and handed me a wine glass filled with the sweetest bouquet of wine I had ever smelled. Nodding to the guard, and then looking back at the door Wormwood had vanished through, I raised the glass, made a toast, and drank. Although I had intended skipping the feast, I guess I got a little of it after all.
