The Trials of the Imp

"And be these juggling fiends no more believed, that palter us in a double sense, that keep the word of promise to our ear, and break It to our hope. I'll not fight with thee."

- Author: William Shakespeare.

"The Trials of the Imp" written by TheDarkCat97
Since the end of the last ice age, small populations of arctic-alpine plants have survived in favorable spots on rock ledges high in the eastern coves. Rare to Britain species of alpine butterfly, the mountain ringlet, also live on and around Helvellyn.

Mineral veins, some with deposits of the lead ore galena, do exist within Helvellyn's rocks, but attempts to find sufficient quantities of lead to be worth mining have not been successful.

The top of Helvellyn is a broad plateau, trending roughly from north-west to south-east for about a kilometer between Lower Man and the start of Striding Edge. Throughout this distance it remains more than 900 m (3,000 ft.) high. To the west the ground drops gently at first but then more steeply down to Thirlmere, while on the eastern side three deep glacial coves, each backed by high cliffs, are separated by two spectacular sharp ridges or arêtes. The middle of these coves contains Red Tarn.

Like much of the main ridge of the range, Helvellyn stands on the watershed between Thirlmere and the Derwent river system to the west, and Ullswater and the Eden river system to the east.

Streams on the west side drain directly into Thirlmere, apart from Helvellyn Gill which flows into a parallel valley to the east of Great How and empties into St John's Beck. However, when Thirlmere reservoir was built, a leat was constructed to capture the water of Helvellyn Gill, so that it is now directed into the reservoir.

A never-failing spring called Brownrigg Well exists 90 m (300 ft.) below the summit of Helvellyn, about 500 m (550 yd) due west of the highest point, at the head of Whelpside Gill. In the nineteenth century a leat was constructed to direct the water of this spring into the gill to its north to serve the needs of the Helvellyn Mine further down. This leat has now fallen into disuse. The gill it led to is not named on any map, but some authors have referred to it as Mines Gill.

Whelp Side, between Whelpside Gill and Mines Gill, appears as a distinct shoulder of the mountain when seen from the west, largely grassy though with a few crags and boulders in places, and with coniferous plantations on its lower slopes which were planted to stabilize the land around the reservoir. North of Mines Gill are the Helvellyn Screes, a more craggy stretch of hillside, beneath the north-west ridge, with a loose scree covering in places.

The deep coves on the rocky eastern side of Helvellyn drain into Ullswater. Water from Brown Cove and Red Tarn unite below Catstye Cam to form Glenridding Beck, which flows through Glenridding village to the lake, while Nethermost Cove drains into the same lake via Grisedale Beck and Patterdale village.

Red Tarn, enclosed between Striding Edge and Swirral Edge, is about 25 m (82 ft.) deep, but in the mid-nineteenth century a dam was built to increase its capacity and supply the needs of the Greenside Mine near Glenridding. That dam has now gone and the tarn has returned to its natural size. It contains brown trout and schelly, a species of whitefish found in only four bodies of water in the Lake District.

A second reservoir was built around 1860 in Brown Cove, between Swirral Edge and Lower Man, along with one further down the valley in Keppel Cove. These provided water to generate hydroelectric power for the lead mine. The dam in Keppel Cove is still in place, but water now leaks through its base. The remains of the dam in Brown Cove can be seen, but again water leaks freely through it. It is unclear whether there ever was a natural tarn in Brown Cove. Guidebook writers before 1860 refer only to Keppel Cove Tarn to the north of Swirral Edge.

A total of five ridges diverge from the summit ridge of Helvellyn at different points.

The north-west ridge continues from Lower Man over Browncove Crags, becoming almost insignificant when it reaches the shore of Thirlmere, yet still separating the valley of Helvellyn Gill from the reservoir, before finally rising again to the wooded height of Great How at its terminus.

The north ridge, the main ridge of the range, also descends from Lower Man, passing over White Side and Raise to Sticks Pass, then over Stybarrow Dodd and Great Dodd to terminate at Clough Head.

The north-east ridge is known as Swirral Edge, a sharp arête which joins the summit ridge at a point half-way along, and which terminates in the shapely pyramid of Catstye Cam.

The east ridge is another sharp arête known as Striding Edge. This joins the summit ridge at its southern end, not far from Helvellyn's summit. It passes over the subsidiary top of High Spying How and leads to Birkhouse Moor before descending to its final top, Keldas, beside the south end of Ullswater.

The south ridge continues the main ridge of the Helvellyn range over Nethermost Pike, High Crag and Dollywagon Pike to terminate at Grisedale Tarn.

The former county boundary between Cumberland and Westmorland lay along the Helvellyn Ridge; this meant that the summit of Helvellyn was the highest point in Westmorland, making it a Historic County Top.

This was the mountain I hiked during my Summer vacation, and where I found "it"...

Looking back on it now, I must’ve walked that path a thousand times. It never got old. The air would always taste fresh, the breeze would feel clean, and the sunlight poking through the leaves felt pure. It was a place to cleanse the soul. I knew the place so well, every log that would offer a place to rest, every stone, the creek of crystalline water.

I was on another walk, about two months ago. I went earlier in the day, planning to walk further than normal, the one medicine I knew that really worked. I brought a bottle of water, wore my jeans and jacket, and my hat was pulled over my eyes. I felt that the air had a mild bite to it, fall was coming up quick.

As I walked, I thought about how nice it would be to walk this trail in the fall, when the aspens turn to gold. Nature is wealthy, and generous too; look at all it shares with us and how much we take. I was about halfway through my walk, and thinking about how I could go blind and still know my way around the trail when I saw something I must have missed, which I thought was impossible.

There before me was a rocky canyon, only about twenty feet wide, with rich, green moss growing everywhere. I was impressed at my discovery and walked into it. It got deeper and twisted like a passageway in the Paris Catacombs, but it never went underground.

Just when I thought that I had made the greatest discovery ever, I rounded a bend and nearly dropped a brick from my underpants.

I had come into… I guess what you could call nature’s Cul-de-sac, a circular pit, with a dripping waterfall at the end, and a pool in the middle. None of these beauties were what I saw at first, though. I was riveted on the strangest creature I had ever seen in my life.

It was sitting on a rock slab by the pool, its hind legs dangling into the cool water. For the tiniest split of a second, I thought it was an animal, perhaps a cat, but my stare proved me wrong.

It's eyes are deep set and the shape of a lemon. It's body is fined boned but muscular and has a barrel chest. It's arms and legs are long and slender and have a bow legged appearance caused by the creature's breast. It's tail is long and tapering and hard to the touch. It's skin is wrinkled on parts of the head, body and legs but should be taut everywhere else. It's skin was also showing signs of pigmentation. It's ears were large and bat-like, just like that of those hairless cats you'd see online or in movies. Come to think of it... That's exactly what it looked like, but it also had a anthropomorphic look to it. On it's back are large, leathery, bat-like wings that it uses to fly around like a miniature Mothman.

I thought that it had not noticed me, but the moment I tried to freeze in place, it slowly turned its head to face me. That moment was when I was sure it wasn’t an animal just because of those eyes. They glowed orange as fire from under it's wrinkly, non-existent eyebrows.

My terror must have looked amusing because, somewhere above that muzzle, a tiny pair of pink lips curled into a mischievous grin of pointy, yellowed fangs. The grin someone gets when they know something you don’t. I heard it speak in a voice that matches a goblin's own.

"Well, well, an unexpected greeting, haven't we?"

I was still taking all of my concentration not to pee my pants, so I could say nothing. It scratched its chin with its clawed fingers and hopped to its feet.

The creature chuckled, the sound of it's laughter sounded like a smoker coughing and wheezing, "Don't worry. I won't bite."

I finally gulped down the frog in my throat to utter a question. "Where am I?"

"Why, judging by the wet scenery, I'd say you're in what we call, The Judas Pit. Not many people entered this place, maybe it's due to them being murderers, adulterers, or simply bandits. Beggars can't be choosers, I guess."

"Then... what does that make you?" I asked sheepishly.

"What does that make me?" The little monster giggled, "Can't you tell, boy? I'm usually described as mischievous more than seriously threatening, I slink or skitter about, running from one pool of shadow to another. The trickery ascribed to me is, generally, confined to missing, misplaced, or moved articles, socks, keys, etc. And not to mention stubbed toes. The usual thing."

The once dreaded image of a short, demonic person clashed in my mind, even compared to this ghastly looking gremlin. "An Imp?" The word sounded obvious, even in that moment.

The creature grinned widely as it joked, "Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! What do we got for him, Johnny? A brand new car, something he wishes he could've had!"

Indeed I felt pretty offended, but despite this being an actual demon, I bit my tongue and kept a firm lip. "What do you want from me, my soul, sign my name in blood?"

"Neither," it answered, "There is absolutely nothing you have that I could possibly want. Not a thing, even if you were a king, I have it all, and more. All I want you to do is accept."

I had read enough online stories in my spare time to instill some fear in me of these backwater deals. "Wait, what if I kill someone, or you trick me into committing suicide? What would become of me then?"

It comically began slapping its forehead with its palm, rolling its eyes. "Ugh, your head must be like a fucking desert... Look, we're not in the dark ages anymore, kid. Those days are long over. We no longer kill each other over who got the longest dick, and cats are never going to be extinct any time soon. All I want is to help you with your problems. I can help you with your finances. I can keep you from sleeping with some mongrel mutt in some alleyway."

"Wait, wait, how did you..."

"We've been

I don’t deny that I was tempted, my need for answers dampened by this tantalizing offer. But somehow, that little cricket in my head still remembered that all this was very wrong. "What’s it gonna cost me?"

"I don’t want nothin’ at all! In fact, you don't even need to do anything, except say yes or no. Once that happens, you'll never even see me again. So, I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want to forget your worries about money? Don’t you want to live in ease? Simply answer me… yes, or no."

I don’t know how long I stood there, silently thinking. It must not have been long enough. No matter what this creature was, I did need money. I did need ease. I needed relief from the hell I had been living for so long. So, I looked it dead in the eyes and spoke simply, but clearly, the one word that ruined my life.

“Yes.”

The wrinkled little Imp gave me a wicked smile. Quick as a flash, it lunged to within short range of me, until it was looking directly at me in the face as it flew, flapping its wings. It looked even fouler from so close, but when it extended its clawed, inhuman hand, I shook it without a thought. Its skin was cold, clammy, but the grip was strong as iron.

The next thing I knew, I was standing back at the turn in the trail, my back against the stones. The sunlight hurt my eyes as if I had just come out of the strangest dream in my life.

I went home immediately, surprisingly refreshed by this break in banality. I went straight to sleep, almost convinced that I had imagined the whole thing. When I woke up the next day, I thought that perhaps I was some sort of wingnut.

I had little time to think since I had just woken to an alarm. I swung my legs down to head out the door as if all were normal. I went to the nearest gas station, went inside the store there, and bought me a Powerball lottery ticket along with some snacks and alcoholic drinks. When I saw what's in my wallet, I shat bricks! What I saw inside my wallet, was an ass ton of money! A thousand dollars to the pound!

I must have stood there for several minutes, still as stone, eyes like that of a praying mantis before I screamed for joy, running and cartwheeling around the store, burying my face in the money, I was practically acting like SpongeBob on crack. What made it funny was that the man behind the counter looked at me like I was in special needs schooling.

Throughout the entire week, I was as jolly as Santa Claus, finally knowing what it's like being filthy, stinking rich. I was simply at ease. Knowing that "making a deal with the devil" can make you as rich as I was, you'd be shocked to know that stuff like this... would not end well. I should know.

It was around a Friday afternoon when I turned on the television to watch the news, and it featured something that made my entire world crumble... The anchorman stated that there were multiple murders around my neighborhood, the victims were John Fallows (the old man that lived next to me, he always hated my guts), Briana Reagan (she was a widow that works at one of the jobs I got fired from), Samuel Smith (he's a gang-banger who's on the run from the police at the time), Jasmine Helms (she was a successful real-estate agent), and Gregory Barns (the manager of a business upstate of my hometown of Ambleside). Their bank accounts were stolen after being stabbed to death around the middle of the night.

I shot up from my couch, checked my wallet, and the thousand dollars were still there. "Holy shit..." I said sheepishly, "Did... Did I do this?"

I went into the kitchen, grabbed me a can of Budweiser and tried to contemplate on what the hell is going on. That's where I saw it... in the kitchen sink was the largest butcher knife I could find. It looked like it was heavily washed, and I smelled something in the drain. It wasn't just a smell... it was somewhat something you'd expect to smell from an operating room. What I smelled... was blood.

I then realized what had happened... I must've idly killed those five people, stabbed them with the butcher knife and stole their bank accounts as I washed the blood off of the murder weapon in the kitchen sink.

As soon as I realized what had happened, I heard police sirens outside my house, I ran over to the TV and noticed that the news was now filming... my house, in a bird's eye view as helicopters flew around my home. F.B.I. rammed open the door with a battering ram and arrested me on the spot at gunpoint. At this moment I knew what would happen, I would've went to the nearest police station and turned myself in, but everything went from one-to-a hundred in a matter of seconds.

At this point, I was taken to court, pleaded guilty for multiple accounts of murder, then sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole.

I don't know how this all happened so quickly, nor can I show any evidence to back this up. All I know is that the Imp I met in those mountains must've done something, and there's nothing I can do to fix it. How could I fix it? I'm no magic man, I can't make things happen and get things back to normal. I'm only a man, and that's what I'll forever be. By now, the only thing I'll worry about is not dropping the soap, or I'll get it in the ass. Until then, I'm sitting in my prison cell, writing this down on a piece of paper I got from the warden's office. I also grabbed me a pen to write this story with. I don't know how long until I die here, but for now, I'm just stuck here until that day comes. I've never believed in the paranormal before, but now that I've came across something that's been explained from historical archives and demonologies across the globe, I can honestly say that I'm glad to get this off my chest.

If you ever encounter something I described or something you believe to be supernatural, do yourself a favor and turn the other way and run like hell. Because, if you don't, you'll wind up either in a body bag, or wind up like me: living the good life, then find out that you've been stabbed in the back, and having to live with misfortune the rest of your life.

I didn't want to tell the police about what happened, because, how could they believe me? They'd send me to the nuthouse if I did. Better to write this with a pen instead of a crayon.

There's a new inmate coming here, and I'd better be ready. Cause you never know if you're his friend, or foe. Maybe he's suffered the same fate I had. And that's the thing; you're not sure if any of these people were victims of an Imp's deceit. You'll never know when their greatest desires have been given to them, only to find out that the creature fooled them, and they had to pay the price for something they didn't know they did.

It's like something from the Twilight Zone, you start to see this bizarre being, then you interact with it, it grants your wish, then you realize that not everything is as it seems, then you regret ever making that wish, and now there's no escape from the Hell of your making.

Because like Edgar Allan Poe once said, words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.