Depictions of Satan in Fiction
Installment #1: A Physician After Blood
Over the past few weekends, I’ve shared eight depictions of Christ in fiction, showing a range of ways in which to think about him, honor him, and sense more of his proximity and presence. While we rightly keep our eyes fixed above, heavenward, we also wisely have a sense of the adversary’s deceptions. Depictions of Satan, the Devil, the opposer and accuser, have their own value, not in admiration or imitation but in awareness and avoidance. Know the adversary’s deceptions, or you may succumb.
Depictions of Satan litter fiction, from Dante’s Inferno to C.S. Lewis’s amazing Screwtape Letters. Can any depictions rival Dante’s description of Satan in the ninth circle of hell, Cantos XXXII to XXXIV of the Inferno? Perhaps in Milton’s Paradise Lost or in Goethe’s reworking of Faust, depicting the fearsome Mephistopheles. Satan, though, isn’t merely an ancient or classic figure. He doesn’t and shouldn’t just populate ancient texts, medieval literature, or the classics. He is also a thoroughly modern presence, prominent in various forms, for instance, in Hollywood’s Marvel series.
My fiction has depicted Satan a few times. The following example is from the second book of Amazon’s Motorsports Mythologies series, Titans Descent. In the scene below, near the novel’s end, the main character Sheridan has finally encountered the devil, not in the roaring furnace far below the earth’s surface from which Sheridan had just returned, but in a hospital, as a conniving physician. Sheridan manages to race out of the hospital to avoid the physician’s snares. The devil doesn’t always come roaring. Sometimes, he comes in the guise of a healer or friend. Fair presentation? You be the judge.
The doctor shut the door behind him, moving quickly to the foot of Sheridan’s bed without looking at Sheridan.
“Hey, friend, how are you feeling?” the doctor greeted Sheridan, again without looking at him, instead picking up a tablet hanging from the end of Sheridan’s bed to flick through the nurse’s notes.
Sheridan studied the doctor. Something about the doctor made Sheridan hesitate. Why had the doctor called him friend?
Sheridan shook his head, thinking that he might still be recovering from the alcohol/medication issue. Surely, the doctor was just being kind. Sheridan looked for a name tag, thinking that he’d return the doctor’s kindness, while proving to the doctor and himself that his mentation had returned. Diablo, the plastic name tag hanging from the doctor’s white lab coat read. Strange name, Sheridan thought.
“Fine, Dr. Diablo,” Sheridan said in the most-confident voice he could muster.
Sheridan realized that he wanted to get out of the hospital as fast as he could. So he added, “Seems like I’m ready to get out of here.”
Dr. Diablo looked up from the tablet at Sheridan for the first time, saying, “Vitals are fine. You know what happened?”
Sheridan hesitated before answering, not wanting to get the nurse in trouble. He replied, “Well, putting two and two together, my buddies slipped me a little alcohol without me realizing it. A couple of sleeping pills did the rest.”
Dr. Diablo raised his eyebrows, saying, “You do seem to have figured things out. You’ve got to be careful about that mix. Alcohol and sleeping pills just don’t go together. You’re fortunate that things didn’t turn out any worse.”
Dr. Diablo returned to flicking through the tablet before concluding, “Well, we’ll just keep you here overnight and let you out in the morning if everything still looks good.”
The blood drained from Sheridan’s face. He had no desire to remain in the hospital overnight. And he felt surer than ever that he didn’t like something about his doctor. He decided to push the issue.
“Hey, really, I’m doing fine,” Sheridan replied, stirring in the bed while adding, “If I could just get up and walk around a little, I’m sure I’d be able to head on out.”
Dr. Diablo eyed Sheridan again. Sheridan again felt a sense of unease at the look in the doctor’s eyes. Finally, the doctor spoke.
“Let’s do a little mental exam,” he began, continuing, “Tell me about last night.”
Sheridan recounted the names and roles of the track officials with whom he had dined, where he had dined, and what he had eaten and had to drink, including the house special drink. Dr. Diablo nodded.
“Any unusual dreams, visions, or hallucinations last night, this morning, or today?” the doctor asked, again looking deep into Sheridan’s eyes.
Sheridan involuntarily shuddered at the doctor’s look. This time, his mind went into high alarm, although he still couldn’t tell exactly why. But something deep within Sheridan warned him not to disclose anything whatsoever about his celestial encounter.
“Dreams?” Sheridan stalled. He stared back into the doctor’s unwavering, unblinking eyes, soulless eyes.
“Dreams and hallucinations are common in these instances,” Dr. Diablo replied, still staring into Sheridan’s eyes.
Sheridan stared back, his spirit having steeled within him. He now knew that he was engaged in some sort of cosmic struggle with the figure standing before him.
“No, no dreams or hallucinations,” Sheridan lied, trying to calm his beating heart.
Dr. Diablo looked up at the monitor over Sheridan’s bed. Sheridan prayed that the monitor didn’t reveal any hint of his dissembling.
“Tell me your name, the date, and where you are,” the doctor instructed Sheridan coldly, while still looking at the monitor over Sheridan’s bed.
Sheridan recited his full name, gave the date, and identified the hotel where he had stayed, from which the ambulance must have picked him up.
“And what are your plans?” the doctor asked, returning to flicking through the tablet.
“Plans?” Sheridan asked, but then realizing what the doctor likely meant, continued, “Head back to the track to follow up on yesterday’s meetings, and then fly out in the morning.”
“Anything else?” the doctor asked, once again fixing his unblinking, dark eyes on Sheridan.
Sheridan shrugged, replying, “No. Just get out of town and get home.”
“Let me check on some lab results,” Dr. Diablo muttered noncommittally, before turning and walking to the door. He paused at the door, turning back to add, “I wouldn’t be giving any credit to dreams, anyway. They’re just nonsense electrical storms.”
Sheridan blanched, but fortunately, Dr. Diablo had already turned and walked out the door. Sheridan breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him.
Giving the doctor a couple of minutes to disappear, Sheridan reached for the nurse-call button and gave it a push. The friendly nurse appeared at the door within a minute.
“Sorry it’s taking so long,” she said as she peered in, adding, “I’ll check on the delay and be right back.”
Sheridan tipped his head in confusion before beckoning to the nurse to step in and close the door behind her.
“What do you mean, ‘taking so long’?” Sheridan asked her.
“For the doctor to come check you over for discharge,” she replied.
“Of course,” Sheridan replied, adding, “I wasn’t worried about that. Could I just have a drink of water, please?”
The nurse smiled at Sheridan, nodding and getting him a cold cup.
Saying, “Thanks,” Sheridan downed the water in one gulp.
The nurse took the empty cup. Looking like she was preparing to leave, Sheridan asked, “Hey, could I please go to the bathroom?”
Sheridan motioned toward the bed rails, intravenous line, and monitors stuck to his chest, smiling and adding an apologetic shrug. The nurse turned back and complied, lowering one bed rail, and removing Sheridan’s intravenous line and monitor leads. As Sheridan swung his legs out of the bed, she warned, “Careful. Doctor’s orders are bed rails up. Let me help you into the bathroom.”
Sheridan, though, rose easily. Feeling steady, he moved readily to the bathroom behind another door just inside the room.
Stopping at the bathroom door, Sheridan turned to the nurse and asked, “Hey, do you have a Dr. Diablo here at the hospital?”
“Hah!” the nurse replied with a laugh, adding, “That’s quite a name. No, we don’t have any devils here.”
Sheridan smiled back at the nurse, replying, “I didn’t think so. Must have left a long time ago.”
Sheridan started to open the bathroom door to enter but paused again. Turning back to the nurse, he asked, “Are my clothes somewhere in the room?”
“You’re not running out on us, are you?” the nurse teased Sheridan, who smiled, shaking his head. In response, the nurse pointed to a small, free-standing wardrobe closet in the room’s far corner, saying, “Right there.”
The nurse walked over to the closet, opened its door, and pointed at a fire suit inside.
“We don’t get many patients coming in wearing one of these,” she said. She pulled at the fire suit to reveal Buck Baker Racing School emblazoned across its back.
The nurse laughed, letting the racing suit fall back in place inside the closet. Pointing to Sheridan’s carry-on bag in the bottom of the little closet, she added, “The rest of your stuff from the hotel is right here.”
The nurse turned back toward the room’s door, saying with another smile toward Sheridan, who still stood at the bathroom door, “You finish in there, and I’ll get Dr. Devine in here to get you checked over and on your way.”
When God moves, so does Satan. Think of how Satan appeared to Jesus in the Bible. He offered Jesus food, water, the kingdoms! But at what cost...So, yes, we must be aware of Satan's schemes and how he moves even in perfectly pleasant and appealing ways.