A young lawmaker in Athens and a member of the Citizen’s Assembly was a proud member of society often seeking to improve the society in which he lived. As this man grew older and more loved by the polis, he wanted more attention and more power. He wanted to become a leader of the state and he cared less for the people and more for his own wealth and gain. He prayed day and night to the gods that he would become Archon and one evening, these prayers were answered. The god he called Zeus appeared before the lawmaker. “All powerful Zeus! There is no god greater! Are you here to help my quest for power?” the man inquired.
“Nay!” Zeus boomed.
“What are your wishes? I am your humble servant,” the lawmaker trembled.
“Continue your righteous path; forget your desires for power and wealth and I will see you are rewarded. Take these pills in three days and if you obey me you will be rewarded with life,” Zeus said as he gave him a handful of pills with a circular engraving and he disappeared. The man went to bed trying to forget his ambitions and to continue serving the people.
Later that evening when everything was dark and everyone was sleeping, the lawmaker wrestled with his conscience. As the night grew darker, he heard a knock on his door. He sprang up when he heard the noise. He slowly approached the door and when he opened the door he collapsed to the ground in shock. “Do not be afraid. I am not here to collect your soul,” the shadowy figure said. He stepped into the house and smelled of ash and burnt the floor where he stepped.
“Hades, if you are not here to end me, why have you come?” he asked, frightened.
“I have come to find out Zeus has offered you a deal and I have heard your prayers and decided to offer you an even better one,” Hades explained. “If you kill the Archon Eponymous, I will help you become the head of state and promise that you will never die.”
“Won’t Zeus be angry? Will you be able to protect me from him?” the lawmaker inquired, excited by the new proposition that would grant him the power that he so desired.
“Am I not the god of the underworld? Zeus cannot choose who will live and who will die, that is my right and mine alone,” he erupted and with that he vanished.
As an important figure in the Citizen’s Assembly, the man had no difficulty getting close to the current Archon Eponymous. The problem left to be solved was how he could kill the tyrant without being attacked by the guards. As he fretted over this dilemma, he reached into the pocket of his cloak to discover a bag of gold coins left by Hades. He bribed the guards, walked up to the Archon, and stabbed and slashed and hacked the Archon until he fell to the ground dead.
As he left the scene of the assassination, word had already spread that he had killed the Archon. Two men grabbed him and brought him onto a stage where a mass of people were waiting to see him. Unsure of what would happen next, he reached into his pockets in hope that the gods would help him once more. He felt around and discovered the pills given to him by Zeus. It had been three days and he could not remember exactly what he had been told. All he could remember was he was told, “Take these pills in three days and you will be rewarded with life.” These pills were inscribed with different markings, they appeared to be “Hg” but he could not make sense of what the strange markings meant. He figured he would be better off with the help of both Zeus and Hades than just one so he put the pills in his mouth and swallowed.
He was swiftly brought to the front of the stage where the crowd could easily see him. He was expecting the worst and was confused when he heard the crowd burst into cheer and begin to applause him. If it was any other man, the reaction may have been different, but the polis trusted him and thought he would become the next Archon and improve the lives of the poor.
He began turning pink. It was not blushing, it was something else; his cheeks, his fingers, his entire body changed pigmentation into a peculiar pink color. His body began to itch. He was sweating profusely. His salivation increased. He could not control much of his body. As this was happening to him, the crowd was taking off their cloaks and hats, and to show their gratitude, they were throwing them at him. Eventually he was covered in a pile of them and was unable to move. He started to panic. He tried to scream for help but he could not utter a word. It was getting difficult to breathe and he was losing consciousness. Hades and Zeus promised me life! This cannot happen! He thought to himself and he grew cold.
When he regained his senses he was in a terrified state. He had just witnessed death but he was still alive. Hades appeared before him, although he looked much different; he now had horns and he claimed his new name was “Satan.”
“You said I would live forever and I wouldn’t die!” the man cried.
“Well, are you dead now?” Satan replied with a grimace. The former lawmaker realized he was alive and well.
“Why did you have me experience death then? And you said I would become Archon!” he complained.
“That was God, who you remember as Zeus. You betrayed him, and he tried to poison you and have you suffocated,” Satan told him. “And look here, it seems people are coming to give you a crown and throne now,” he said with a smirk as he disappeared. Just then, a group of Hungarian nobility snatched him and began dragging him to a palace.
“What do you want with me?” he questioned.
“You know what we want. You’re going to be king since you lead the peasants’ revolt,” one of the men sneered. This left the lawmaker confused.
“If I am king do not drag me, you must respect me!” he exclaimed, but the men ignored him.
He was dragged across the main hallway of the palace. He noticed an empty throne waiting at the end of it, but it was a bright crimson color- rather peculiar for a throne. Soon he would realize the reason for this throne and why the man called him the king and treated him like a criminal.
They shoved him into the throne and thrust onto his head a crimson crown and into his hand a crimson scepter. He did not understand what was happening still, but then he felt it. In an outburst of pain he jumped out of the throne and tried to remove the crown from his head. The men who dragged him to this fiery throne grabbed him and forced him back on it. The throne, crown, and scepter had been heated and were meant to burn him alive. The men held him down and he was unable to do anything except burn. He was screaming in agonizing pain and finally they lifted him from the throne of fire. His body was half cooked but he was still alive; he thought they were going to stop the torture and let him live but he would not be so lucky.
They brought him to a table and laid him across it. Sitting at the table were six of his supposed comrades who he lead in the peasant revolt; however, he did not recognize any of the men. “Your men will now be the end of you,” a Hungarian noble cried. “We have starved them for a week so they could enjoy your cooked flesh.”
Cooked but still alive, he did not have the strength to move and then he felt a pang of pain on his leg. One of the rebels had bitten into him! He felt more bites taken out of his dying body but he could not escape nor act in any way. The rebels at this point were eating more and faster and he felt the pain of being eaten alive until half his body was gone and he blacked out once more.
When he regained consciousness he was in the woods, and Satan once again appeared. He only smile and shrugged before disappearing. The man was angry but he could do nothing but trust the devil would keep him alive, after all he was once again living and in good health. It began to storm so he continued traveling the forest until he arrived at a house. He went up and knocked on the door. A man and his family opened the door.
“Hello, friend!” the man exclaimed. “We were worried if you wouldn’t make it here before the storm got any worse. Apparently, these people were his friends, but he did not recognize them. “We were scared you were gonna get struck by some lightning.” They went back into the house but the revolt leader stayed just out the door, unsure if he should trust this man and his family. “Well don’t just stand there! There hasn’t been lightning this bad since after the Battle of Yorktown!” He decided the man was right and was about to step inside when a bolt of lightning crashed into the chimney, causing part of the house to collapse and catch on fire.
Panicked and unsure what to do, he started to run from the house. He had not sprinted more than five steps when another bolt came bounding from the heavens. It felt as though time had slowed, and he experienced a sensation similar to being cooked on the throne. After a short time, he could smell his own skin burning and he looked at his arms and legs and they were black. The smell intensified and he collapsed once more.
When he woke up again, he still felt like he was burning. Everything was dark and then he heard footsteps. They stopped and a flood of light came rushing into sight, blinding him. “You enjoy the hotbox, boy?” a man laughed.
Still unable to see because of the light and unable to speak, he just started running. He heard laughter behind him and he ran into a wooden post. He fell to the ground and was dragged to two more posts. His wrists were each tied and he was hanging by them before long. It was around this time he noticed he was naked – he thought that was why they were laughing at him. Then he heard the sound. It was a distinct crack not very different from the lightning that had struck him. He was wondering what was creating the sound; it could not be lightning, there was no storm. Soon, he felt it. A searing pain lashed across his back as the whip cracked his skin. The pain was terrifying and he let out a yelp.
He forced his eyes open and looked around but his captors were behind him and he could not turn around. He looked for an escape but could only see an open field in front of him. Another crack sounded as he was struck again. This was when he noticed his skin. His arms, his legs, his whole body was dark. Cooked by the throne, burnt by the lightning, his skin had remained darkened and the men behind him believed him to be African. He was their slave and they kept whipping him. He had very little life left after the fiftieth lash. After the lashes, he thought it was over but he heard something click. He did not know what the weapon was, but it was a rifle aimed at the back of his head. It was fired into his head and everything went dark one last time.
This time, however, it was different. Although the man could not see, he could hear everything around him. After the gun was fired, he heard his captor walk around to his front. The captor forced his eyes open and he could see again and he saw before him the same fields as before and an old white man with a whip and gun in front of him. As he blinked, the man changed form. Slowly, he became Satan. The man became angry but could not speak; he could not move; he could only see and hear. Satan began laughing and the surroundings quickly transformed. The fiery depths of Hell replaced the fields, an inferno consumed the man’s body, and he found his voice again as he screamed in pain.
“God have mercy on me!” he exclaimed. “Why do this?” he demanded an answer from Satan.
“God and I made a bet. If you listened to him, you would have become Archon and earned eternal life, but since you listened to me I was allowed to torture you as I pleased,” the devil explained with a content grin. With each word, the intensity of fire that enveloped the man increased and he felt greater and greater pain. Have I been in Hell all along? He wondered. Satan had played tricks with his mind; he did not know what was real. There was nothing he could do but suffer; the heat and the smoke suffocated him each time he opened his mouth to talk. Satan’s laugh grew louder.
God have mercy! He thought.