Brother Daniel shares a harrowing testimony of being taken to hell, where he witnessed unspeakable torment, including burning pits, screaming souls, terrifying monsters, and relentless punishment. He describes a guardian beast preventing any escape and recounts a desperate plea from a woman who claimed to have been there for 626 years. Despite the overwhelming suffering, Daniel was moved with compassion and now urges people to seek Jesus, emphasizing that he wouldn't wish such a fate even on his worst enemy. His experience is a sobering warning and a call to repentance and salvation through Christ.
My life was not always marked by faith, in fact my first encounter with the supernatural was when I was between 12 and 13 years old, long before truly knowing the Lord. At that time I attended the Catholic church, going to mass without understanding much, since I had been made an altar boy since I was little. The option of choosing the Word of God did not have much meaning for me, but I believed in the Lord in my own way. I clearly remember an episode that marked my youth. I was at a 15th birthday party with my cousin brother and suddenly a girl at the party began to behave in a terrifying way. It was as if she had been possessed by something evil, seeing her run around the block at an impressive speed as if she had an enormous force was something terrifying for me and the other teenagers.
In the midst of that confusion a woman came to me and hung a rosary that had enormous beads, some of wood and others of marble. She told me "you have to go". Despite not understanding much, my cousin said, "He is going." I was in front of the possessed girl when she approached me with an unstoppable force. Something inside me that I can only attribute to the Holy Spirit made me say "Stop in the name of Jesus." Incredibly, the girl stopped as if she had hit an invisible barrier and fell to the ground. I could not believe what had just happened. Then I gave orders to the demons that tormented her, and to my surprise they obeyed me.
Despite this experience, it was not until many years later, at 23 years old, that I really approached a church. At that time my life had fallen into a dark spiral. I was consumed by drugs and alcohol, completely removed from God. One day while watching television, Pastor Jimenez appeared on a program and began to speak. I felt as if he was addressing me directly. He spoke about eternity, death, and how lost I was. That impacted me deeply since I had never seriously considered those topics before. We always avoided talking about death as if it were a taboo, but at that moment I could not escape the reality of what he said. That night, after the program ended, I went to bed and broke down in tears. I cried so much that I literally soaked the sheets. It was in that moment that I opened my heart and confessed the Lord Jesus Christ through that screen.
However, the enemy always seeks to distance us from communion with God. Rebellion and satanic influences operated in me and took me off the path without realizing it. I ended up completely separated and immersed in vice. Suddenly, I found myself with a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and drugs in my pocket, living things that I would never have imagined. During that time the enemy was opening doors that took me even further from the house of God. I met people who facilitated my access to cocaine, and soon I found myself immersed in the world of electronic music, frequenting clubs, and surrounded by people who did nothing more than sink into the darkness.
I reached unimaginable extremes. I will never forget an occasion when I was on a boat for 3 days participating in a drug exchange. That boat was full of people from the LGBT environment who came from Holland. It was like a parallel world, a place where I felt completely lost in the middle of the sea, without direction both physically and spiritually. I ended up on a boat surrounded by narcotics in an environment that was very far from what should have been my path. While the boat returned to Puerto Madero, I began to wonder what am I doing? It was one of those few occasions when I became aware of what was really happening in my life. It is as if the Lord had briefly illuminated my mind, freeing it from the darkness in which I was trapped. That was when I understood that in some way I was like a puppet manipulated by the dark forces that surrounded me.
I realized that I was just a puppet within that circus of darkness. As I approached 30 years old, I began to move away from God again. I spent four long years apart, and although deep down I wanted to return, I didn't say it openly. What I really longed for was for someone or something to interrupt my path of perdition—not that I wanted to return of my own free will—but I longed for someone to rescue me. If at that time in my madness I had known even 3% of what was to come, I would have immediately knelt down crying and begging for my life, because what would come next was something I could never have imagined.
Over time I understood something crucial: when God wants something, He gets it—one way or another—either by good means, more or less, or by bad means, or even in a terrifying way. And He gets it because He is God and we are His creation, and He will do what He has promised in His Word. It was during that dark period that I completely rebelled against the Lord. I was in a relationship with a woman who shared my addictions, and everything got worse when I discovered that she had gone with her lover.
In my desperation, all I could think about was punishing her. I spent 32 days without sleeping, immersed in a mix of drugs and madness, searching for that woman without ceasing. Imagine being 32 days without closing your eyes for a second. I did not stop plotting in my mind how I would kill her. The unclean spirits inside me did not let me rest. I never found her, because I would have ended up in prison. The Lord kept me from committing that crime, but when I decided to end that search, I wanted to end it all.
I took a whole tablet of Clonazepam, a common antidepressant. In that state of intoxication, I suffered four overdoses. On several occasions I ended up in the hospital, taken by people who were also immersed in that diabolical caravan of drugs and paranoia. They took me from one hospital to another. The woman I had been looking for so much returned one night accompanied by her lover. Both were under alcohol and drugs. I was completely asleep from the pills I had taken, and they woke me up by beating me. I wanted to defend myself, but I couldn't find the knife that I used to have under the bed.
I was so drugged that I couldn't even move my hands. Desperate, I let go and fell from a mezzanine down a staircase and fractured my arm in three places—the wrist, the elbow, and near the shoulder. What came after was even worse. They took me to an armchair where I stayed lying down, and she decided to bathe me in alcohol. She said, "I heard you were looking for me, and it’s now my turn to get revenge." She soaked me completely in alcohol and to increase my terror she lit a match. She had bought a box of "Little Duck" matches, well known for having 222 matches. She threw them all at me.
What I didn't expect was that miraculously, none of them would catch fire. Each match she lit went out just before touching my skin. She was completely out of her mind and kept trying to set me on fire, but unbelievably, even though the matches lit, they went out just before touching my skin. All of this was happening while I stood there soaked in alcohol, helpless. The details of what happened next are a little blurry in my memory. But I remember that she grabbed a glass bottle—I'm not sure if it was beer or wine—broke the bottle on my head. At that moment it was as if I suddenly regained reason and in my mind, but in that chaos the Lord had protected me. I could only thank God.
Then the lady somehow also seemed to wake up from her frenzy. I saw in her eyes the change as if she realized what she was doing. "What are we doing?" she exclaimed, horrified. At that moment the situation took a turn. She helped me change my clothes and got me a handkerchief to cover my fractured arm. I decided to go to the Muñiz Hospital to be treated. But when I arrived I found a crowd—they did not treat me. So I went to another hospital in Caballito, where I had acquaintances, but there were too many people. Finally, I ended up in the Hospital de Clínicas on Avenida Córdoba. When they attended to me and were about to immobilize my arm, they sat me on a stretcher.
SENT TO HELL
It was at that moment that everything changed abruptly. While I was looking at my arm, I suddenly felt an explosion. It was not an external explosion but an internal one, as if something inside me had exploded. I did not have time to even think about what was happening, for immediately after the explosion, everything went out. It was as if the light of my life had gone out, and the next thing I remember was being in complete darkness. I was lying in a room that apparently did not measure more than 4m by 4m. There was no light, just a stifling darkness.
The first thing that caught my attention was the heat—a heat so intense that it burned me inside. I wanted to move but I could not. My body was completely immobile, except for my neck that I could still turn slightly. The first thing I thought was that I had broken my neck and that somehow I was still conscious. I did not realize where I was. For me, everything seemed real as if I was still alive. I tried to locate myself, thinking that I was still in the hospital, trying to understand that explosion that I felt. But soon I realized that something was not right.
The heat became unbearable and I began to drown. It was as if I could inhale air but I could not exhale. Every time I took a breath, my body swelled as if it were accumulating air without being able to release it. It was a sensation similar to that of a toad inflating. I felt that at any moment I was going to explode. The heat not only suffocated me, but I also felt as if my organs began to creak inside me—as if they were cooking. I was literally roasting alive. My body began to burn from the inside. I could not see anything—I only felt that indescribable pain. I calculated that the temperature must be unbearably high, but everything was beyond what my mind could understand. In the middle of that scorching heat—that if I had to describe it, I would compare it to a temperature of 150 degrees—something inexplicable happened. I knew things I had never known before.
I could suddenly understand all the languages that were spoken around me. Not only me, but all the prisoners in that place were in a kind of transit cells, a place of the dead in Hades. Although at that moment I still did not understand that I was in hell, I could clearly hear people speaking in Chinese or Mandarin—languages that I had never learned, but that at that moment I understood perfectly. I remember that a pastor in his wisdom later explained to me that this could be related to the Tower of Babel, where all human beings shared a single language before being dispersed. There was some logic in that because the Bible mentions that everyone spoke the same language before God confused them. At that moment, however, I just knew with absolute certainty what those who spoke in languages were saying—things that in life I would never have understood.
As I stood there feeling like I was burning alive, I noticed my body starting to change. First, I lost all the hair on my head and the rest of my body. I was literally roasting, and my skin was starting to burn. Still, the scariest thing was not the heat or the fact that I couldn't exhale, but my own conscience. It was my conscience that was condemning me. It accused me of everything I had done wrong in my life, and there was no doubt that that voice of my conscience was mine—with my own tone, my own sound, but it was against me. My conscience reminded me that I had been a Christian, that I knew the right path and had abandoned it. It reproached me for every sin, every deviation, every act of morbidity that I had fallen into.
As I was drowning and cooking myself alive, my conscience would not leave me alone, telling that all of this was my fault. The temperature was suffocating me, the inability to exhale was driving me crazy, but what really broke me was that inner voice that accused me over and over. With each word of my conscience, I understood more and more where I was. I knew I was in hell, and the most terrifying thing of all was that I could not doubt that reality. I knew it with absolute certainty.
As I tried to take a breath, but without being able to release it, the sensation of exploding inside intensified. As this happened, I could perceive that there were cells around me, lined one after another with large doors made of a wood that did not burn. Each door had a small window the size of a brick, placed very high at a height that I could not reach or understand. It was in the middle of this torment, when the door of my cell opened. The darkness was so dense that I could not see anything beyond a few meters. The fire that was outside suddenly entered, and what I saw was something completely unusual.
The fire was not simply fire. It was like a person—it had arms and legs and moved with impressive speed, entered the cells, hugged the condemned, burned them alive, and then shot out to the next cell, repeating the same process with frightening precision. Each condemned man it touched was consumed by the flames, but the fire did not die. With an intelligence of its own, it continued on its way without stopping. When the door opened completely, two monsters entered. They were gigantic, approximately 3 or 4 meters tall, and their appearance reminded me of dinosaurs, although there was something much more sinister.
They did not need to move their mouth to talk to me, they communicated everything directly to my mind. I turned my head and saw them. At that moment I asked myself, “In what part of the hospital am I? Why is this happening to me?” But my conscience, that was still there unshakeable, immediately answered me: “You are in hell. These are demons that have come to torture you.” I could not believe it. I tried to convince myself that it was not real, but my conscience did not allow me. My conscience kept repeating, “Yes, it is real. They came to carry out Satan's order and you will suffer the consequences of your decisions.”
I knew I was in a transit cell, a place where people's final chamber and valley is decided, and these demons were going to execute their sentence on me. I always knew deep down that my conscience was aware of everything that was happening, even if I could not understand it at the time. In life, the conscience acts as a warning, even for those who do not have the Spirit of God. I have heard many people say that at some point they felt that they were doing something wrong, that their conscience was holding them back. But there is something that goes beyond the conscience. The Holy Spirit is a mystery that surpasses what we can understand, and it is all in the Word of God.
Everything I am telling you—the monsters, the tortures—are in the Scriptures. In 1 Samuel 2:6, the Bible says: “The LORD killeth, and maketh alive: he bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up.” God allowed me to experience that death, but He also gave me back my life.
TORMENTED BEYOND MEARSURES
The two monsters that tormented me were like dinosaurs. One had the face elongated like that of a crocodile, while the other looked like a boxer dog. Their bodies were different—one had scaly skin, while the other was more like a snake but without scales. They were tall and robust, muscular with an appearance that mixed obesity and strength. I remember these monsters clearly and I will never see them again unless the Lord allows it. They were there in that transit cell, because when someone dies they go to that place where they are tortured before being sent to their final destination.
In that hellish chaos, there was an organization, a terrible order. These monsters spoke to me directly, they spoke to my mind, telling me that they were going to destroy me and that they hated everything that had to do with God, and that I, as a human, was part of that which represented God. While they told me this, my conscience repeated to me, “We should not be here. We are of God.” However, I knew that I was going to receive the mental and physical torture that awaited me.
These monsters took me by the feet and by the hands. They began to scratch me and destroy my face. I remember clearly how I felt my eyeball pop out of its socket, as if it were torn from my face. Each scratch and each claw on my body was felt with an enormous intensity. The pain was real. There was no escape. One of them pulled my hands while the other pulled my feet with such force that it seemed they were going to dismember me. They screamed in a language that was not Spanish, but that I understood perfectly. They said to me, “We are going to kill you,” and I screamed. The pain in hell is not like pain here on earth—it is double or even worse. The suffering is endless and without relief.
When they almost managed to detach my left arm, leaving it hanging only by a tendon, we heard a rumble that echoed throughout the place. Immediately, they let me go and ran out of the cell. It was at that moment that somehow the Lord gave me strength to move my right arm. I could still use it. Although I barely crawled with my face disfigured and my eye hanging, I could feel every blow, every scratch they had inflicted on me. The claws of these creatures were long, with fingers that seemed to have three or four in total, and their hands, instead of resembling those of humans, were more reminiscent of the hooves of horses.
As I crawled on the ground, I noticed something else—it was not a normal ground. It was covered in worms, spiders, flies, and all kinds of insects you can think of. It was an endless blanket of creatures that did not die, that crawled and covered everything. When I put my hand in the ground trying to push them away, I realized there was no end. The entire floor was made of these insects, and every step I took, every movement of walking or crawling over them, from the walls of my cell, worms began to come out as if from a meat grinder, moving toward me.
To increase the torment, I began to hear the screams of agony and despair in all languages. I knew exactly what they were saying, and they were both the screams of the tortured and the unclean spirits that tortured them. It was a symphony of suffering that did not stop. As I crawled among the insects, the worms began to come out of the walls, releasing legions of unclean creatures, but the most frightening thing was not only seeing them come out but listening to how these worms began to speak. Not only did they know me, but they also knew everything about my family, even about my father who had already passed away.
Listening to what they said, the pain was indescribable as they claimed that they were devouring me. I didn't understand how they could know so much, but their words were real and tormented me even more. The Lord would later reveal to me that my father was in His presence, but at that moment, the torture was unbearable. These worms, as the Bible mentions in Mark 9:48, where “their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched,” began to enter my body. I felt them bite my flesh. They drilled holes and entered me. The worst thing is that they spoke while they devoured me, saying, “We are going to eat you.” From the inside, I could hear them slowly devouring me, torturing me both physically and mentally.
In my desperation, I tried to convince myself that it was not real or that it was all an illusion, but my conscience kept repeating to me, “It is real. They are worms and they are devouring you.” The physical pain was immense, added to the fact that I could hardly breathe anymore. My body was charred, my skin completely black, burned by the heat of the cell, and the fire that I saw in the distance continued to move from one cell to another, torturing other condemned people. This fire had a human form—a figure with arms and legs that moved quickly, getting into a cell, burning someone alive, and then coming out to repeat the cycle with another victim.
Crawling, I managed to get close to the door of the neighboring cell where I witnessed something terrifying—a skinny demon with a reptilian appearance, similar to an iguana, was abusing another condemned person, holding him by the neck while brutally subduing him. The condemned person, charred like me, cried and screamed for mercy and help, although I do not remember exactly what he said, his cries of desperation were clear, as if he were a newly arrived soul, still processing the magnitude of his punishment.
As I moved, I heard more screams, the torture did not stop, the fire was constant, and my conscience was already completely convinced that this was my eternal destiny. There was no hope of escape, my own mind was in charge of reminding me that this was my place forever. In the midst of that suffering, for the first time in that hellish place, I cried out with all my strength, “Lord, have mercy! Forgive me!” I could not remember anything related to the church or the praises or the biblical verses that I once knew. It was as if all my spiritual memory had been erased. All that was left in my mind was the pain and the certainty of my condemnation. Even so, with the little strength that I had left internally...
I asked for forgiveness with all my heart, I felt that this was my only hope, and then in the blink of an eye someone put me on my feet and hugged me invisibly and took me at an unimaginable speed. In a matter of thousandths of a second I found myself standing in front of a gigantic pit the size of a football stadium. This place was full of living skulls and bodies, it was like a lake of burning lava. The most disconcerting thing was that all the skulls were screaming and I couldn't understand how it was possible for them to make those sounds, because they had no lungs or flesh that would allow such screams of agony, however the screams were real, the pain was still present, I felt the worms inside me, I still felt my conscience. Getting out of that cell I was now in a different place, another level of torment.
Around this burning pit there were thousands of people all screaming in pain, and I saw something even more terrifying: a gigantic monster with the head of a Doberman dog, but the size of an airplane. This being had prehistoric wings and flew over the pit, and those who tried to escape he grabbed them with its claws, tore them apart and then threw them back into the fire. The monster was a guardian, a monstrous being in charge of ensuring that no one could escape from their eternal punishment. The head of that monster was as big as the room I am in now, and it spoke in a language that was not Spanish but I understood it clearly, it screamed "damn the eternal fire" while watching the zombie-like corpses try to get out of the pit. Those beings that seemed to be taken from the darkness itself tried desperately to escape, but the monster came down with incredible speed, grabbed them with its claws, tore them apart, lifted them in the air and threw them back into the fire. It was the guardian of that place, in charge of making sure that no one could escape its punishment.
CRIES FROM THE PITS OF HELL
While I watched everything paralyzed by terror, I felt something that shook me even more: a bony and cold hand with the strength of a skull grabbed my foot so hard that it scared me. I thought it was going to pull me into the Abyss, dragging me with the other damned. It was as if the damned were drowning among themselves, trying to climb to escape, but the monster kept them under its control. No one could escape its sight. It had everything well guarded, with no possibility of hiding. The skull that grabbed my foot turned out to be that of a woman, I knew it from her voice. She told me in a language that I did not recognize that she had been 626 years in that place, she asked me something desperate: to tell Jesus that she could not bear it anymore, that she had already paid her sentence.
It was there when for the first time in the middle of all this chaos I was able to pronounce some words. I answered her "I do not know where Jesus is." Upon hearing this she began to scream even louder and then as if other condemned people were dragging her, she sank into the pit of fire. It was a scene that filled me with sadness, despite everything I was experiencing, that moment moved me deeply. I knew she was a woman by her voice and hearing her desperation left me marked. Between the screams of the monster, the fire that burned me and the worms that still moved inside me, she disappeared swallowed by the flames, and while all this was happening, my conscience continued to torment me, all that suffering continued without end.
In the middle of that screaming I could hear voices that seemed to be children or young people, although I did not see them directly, the voices were clear from younger souls trapped in that torment. I am not sure of their exact age, but their screams of desperation made me think of children between 10 and 11 years old, it was such a deep pain, a constant torture that affected everyone without distinction. Around that cavern I saw something even more shocking: hundreds of monsters chained, some were small the size of a poodle dog while others were gigantic, the size of 10 story buildings, they were tied with chains, each one according to their size. All around that cavern of fire, above them the Guardian monster kept flying, while the fire fell from the sky like melted plastic.
I tried to look up but the heat was so intense that it burned my eyes, the burning plastic fell on me and the pain was indescribable. What I saw in that place was something that I would never wish for anyone, not even for my worst enemy. I saw how souls were punished relentlessly, eternally, and I saw people who continually died and went to hell without even knowing what awaited them. Sometimes we talk about hell without understanding what it really means, but after this experience I can say with certainty that it is something that goes beyond any imaginable suffering. This was my testimony, the experience that I lived in hell and that God allowed me to tell.
Many people wish their enemies to die and go to hell but I who was there do not wish that even to my worst enemy. If someone hurt me, what I do is ask God to have mercy on that person so that they are saved and avoid going to that place of eternal torment. Dear brothers and sisters, if this testimony has strengthened your faith and touched your hearts, I encourage you to like and share these words with family, friends, and on your social networks. Spread this message both among believers and those who have not yet found Christ so that they can be transformed by these revelations, and God may open your spiritual eyes, leading you to repentance and salvation in Jesus. I am Brother Daniel. Comment from @KATY033160