What Is the First Thing Demons Do to You in Hell? In this blog, we explore what happens in the pit of hell according to the Bible, uncovering the terrifying truth about demons, fire, and eternal punishment. We’ll study Bible verses on hell, the devil, and judgment to reveal the shocking reality of what awaits those who reject God. This article is a powerful and emotional deep dive into scripture, helping you understand one of the most urgent warnings Jesus ever gave.
What is the very first thing demons do to you in hell? Picture this: you slip from the world of the living, bracing for peace, only to wake in a realm where light has never existed. The air itself sears your spirit, and tortured screams flow like rivers around you. Before your mind can grasp your surroundings, you sense a presence—not one of warmth, but pure, ancient hatred. Then they come. Demons—grotesque parodies of the angelic, once radiant, now consumed by rebellion—rush at your soul with a wrath you had never imagined.
But what they do first is not what people fear most. It is something even worse. They do not simply torture you. Instead, they rip away every last shard of your identity and hope, leaving you stripped, exposed to complete despair. The Scriptures, in Luke 16, reveal a chilling truth: the rich man in torment, desperate for a drop of water that never comes. That moment marks the demons’ first act—they let you know with brutal certainty that you are utterly, eternally separated from God. They do not simply inflict pain; they remind you that mercy is over. Every shriek in the darkness proclaims that grace is forever lost.
Their torture is psychological, not just physical. They whisper venomous lies, the same that led to humanity’s fall, but now there’s no escape. They replay every opportunity you had to change, every prayer left unsaid, every warning ignored. Guilt and regret swell within you until they become suffocating. Your soul is not just burning—it is crushed beneath the weight of endless despair. Now, the demons’ power is made complete: they convince you that you are nothing, forgotten, cast aside. “There is no peace for the wicked,” echo the words of Isaiah 48:22. The first thing demons do is steal away peace, and with it, the hope that there ever was a chance to find it again.
But that is not where their cruelty ends. The torment of hell is orderly, a perverse justice. You rejected light, so now only darkness remains. You turned from God’s voice, so now you hear only the cackling of your tormentors, dragging your very soul deeper into the abyss, glorying in your ruin. Their laughter rings as the sound of victory—because in hell, everything is inverted. Joy brings agony. Hope gives way to despair. The demons’ delight is in your suffering—your weeping is their feast.
Jesus warned of this place—do not fear those who kill the body but fear Him who can destroy both soul and body in hell (Matthew 10:28). The demons know you did not fear God enough to change, and now they savor enforcing the consequence. Their most savage cruelty is to shatter your final illusion—that there could yet be a way out. They make certain you understand with piercing clarity: hope is gone. That truth wounds more deeply than any fire or chain, crushing the soul beneath it. The screams of the damned, the demons’ jeers, all ensure you never forget, and this is only the beginning.
After hope is destroyed, the demons move to sever every imagined connection. In hell, there are no friends, no comfort, no safety in numbers. Even as the screams of millions surround you, you are utterly isolated in spirit. Ecclesiastes 9:10 says that in the grave, there is only silence—no knowledge, no wisdom. The demons enforce that silence, extinguishing every flame of comfort until you are left stranded in unending loneliness. Next, they begin their cruelest sport: mockery.
Demons expose your every weakness and regret, turning your sins and secrets into torment. The pride that once seemed harmless, the addiction you never faced, the lust you nursed—all become spectral weapons taunting you, “This is why you are here.” Each memory stabs at your soul; each regret sharpened into suffering. “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is death” (Proverbs 14:12). The demons twist your former confidence into shackles of torment, showing you how wrong you were.
And their cruelty is not just of the mind. The soul feels every agony—dragged again and again through fire that burns forever but never destroys, just as Revelation 14:11 declares, “The smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever, and they have no rest day or night.” In hell, rest is a concept erased. The first thing the demons do is ensure you will never be free of consciousness, never escape into the relief of sleep. Thirst gnaws at you for eternity—never quenched. Exhaustion hangs heavier than chains, yet you cannot close your eyes, cannot drift away. The demons keep you awake, aware, with just enough strength to always feel, always regret, always remember.
They were once angels of light, and so they know exactly how to torment the soul. They want you to ache for oblivion but know that oblivion will never come. Instead, you endure, moment after moment, realization after realization: your punishment is not random—it is justice. Demons are not rebels here; they are enforcers of the sentence you chose when you chose to turn from God. Jude 1:6 reminds us even they are chained, awaiting doom, but for now, they carry out justice on those who would not repent.
The ultimate agony arrives when demons reveal the harshest truth: you are suffering not only because of them, but because of your choices. Every step, every silenced conscience, every truth rejected—they play it in your mind until there is no denying it. They hold up a mirror, so you see the road you walked; hell is not a prison built against your will, but a result of every decision to turn away from God.
As this truth seeps into you, the demons begin twisting the very image of God that you once reflected. Created in His likeness, you become a shadow twisted by sin and rebellion. The first thing they rob at this stage is your dignity. You are made to feel less than human, love and purpose warped beyond recognition. The beauty of creation is corrupted and consumed (Psalm 49:14), and the demons delight in your ruin, reminding you that you could have been redeemed. Your voice, once able to sing praise, is lost in screams. Your hands, made for good, now bound with regret. Your heart, built for repentance, now beats only with sorrow. Every part of you, a tool for their scorn.
And through it all, memory endures. The sharpest agony is the recollection of the God you have lost: His kindness, His patience, the tugs on your heart, the chances to change—all replayed, now only tormenting. The demons ensure you never forget the One you rejected, forcing the words of judgment—“Depart from me. I never knew you” (Matthew 7:23)—to resound through eternity. There is no silence, no end, only the endless chorus of regret and hatred, the weeping and gnashing of souls, as described in outer darkness.
You long for silence, for death—yet death never comes. “In those days, men will seek death and will not find it. They will desire to die, and death will flee from them” (Revelation 9:6). The demons keep you alive in torment, never letting the hope of release come near. The last, most devastating truth is this: you chose it. Hell was not meant for you, but for the devil and his angels. To refuse Christ is to follow them there, and the demons make sure you understand it. Their howls and whispers remind you without rest: You had a Savior—but now, He is gone from you forever. That is their sharpest weapon.
So what do demons do first in hell? They crush hope. They break your sense of self. They isolate you. They twist your memories and identity until only regret and pain remain. They destroy the light, dignity, and peace your Creator intended for you, and they do so with laughter—because your suffering is their triumph.
Yet their victory is hollow and fleeting. Soon, even the demons will be bound for judgment. But for now, they grasp at every soul they can, savoring each fresh torment. And their first act is always the same: to make sure you know, with unspeakable clarity, that it is far too late.
But it is not too late for you now. The warnings of Jesus are not meant to terrify without reason—but to awaken before the point of no return. “Depart from me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matthew 25:41). You do not need to hear those words. You are still offered hope while you have breath. Demons begin their torment by erasing hope, but in this moment—right now—hope yet remains, because Jesus still offers it to you. The question is: Will you accept it?
