The Demon Behind the Grudge: How Unforgiveness Brings Spiritual Tormentors

Bitterness feels like control—until you realize it’s torment dressed as power.

Have you ever had a falling out with someone—a friend, a coworker, a family member—and no matter how hard you tried to move on, it clung to you like a shadow? You couldn’t just shrug it off. It lived rent-free in the back of your mind, tucked behind every other thought. And just when you thought you were past it, it surfaced again—like a mosquito you can’t quite swat, quietly draining you, unseen but relentless.

Your peace? Hijacked.

Your focus? Diverted.

You catch yourself replaying the conversation, imagining better comebacks, sharper words, ways you should have responded. It gnaws at your peace in silence, stirring up new waves of bitterness and pain. That’s not just overthinking. That’s torment. And more often than we realize, it’s demonic.

Unforgiveness is not an emotional inconvenience—it’s a spiritual breach. And Jesus didn’t sugarcoat that reality. In Matthew 18, He tells a story not just about mercy—but about what happens when we refuse to extend it.  And the result isn’t just missed blessings. It’s torment.

I will prove it through scripture.

In our culture today, we’ve reduced forgiveness to a warm, polite gesture—but Jesus warned that unforgiveness opens the door to torment.

It’s not some preacher trying to scare you into being nicer. It’s the straight, unfiltered teaching of Jesus in Matthew 18. In this often-quoted, rarely fully taught parable, we find a chilling truth buried beneath the usual message of mercy.

Jesus tells the story of a servant who owed his master an enormous debt—so large, it was impossible to repay. And when the master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife and children, the servant fell to his knees, begged for patience, and received something far greater than a payment plan: complete mercy.  The debt was canceled, the slate wiped clean. Grace poured over the impossible.

But then that same servant walked out, found someone who owed him a much smaller amount, and demanded payment. He showed no mercy, no patience—just cold, brutal judgment. When his fellow servant begged him using the exact same words he had just spoken to the master, he threw the man in prison.

Word got back to the master—and that’s when the tone of the parable shifts.

“‘You wicked servant,’ the master said. ‘I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had on you?’”

Then Jesus says something most teachers skip over:

“In anger, the master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed.” (Matthew 18:34)

And just in case anyone thought that was just a fictional parable with no real-world application, Jesus drives it home in verse 35:

“This is how My heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Unforgiveness doesn’t protect your heart—it puts it in a cage and hands the key to your enemy.

This is the part most sermons don’t explain. They teach forgiveness as a virtue, but they skip the spiritual consequence of refusing it: torment. The Greek word used in verse 34 for “tortured” is basanizō—the same word used in Scripture for demonic torment, physical affliction, and spiritual agony. It’s the word used when demons beg Jesus not to torment them before their time (Matthew 8:29). That’s not coincidence—it’s a clue.

Jesus is telling us that unforgiveness doesn’t just block blessings—it opens a spiritual door.  And what walks through that door isn’t peace. It's demonic.

Think about it. Have you ever met someone who refused to forgive and was also mentally and emotionally tormented?

Sleepless nights.

Obsessive thoughts.

Bitterness that spills into every relationship.

An unhealed wound that reopens at the sound of a name.

That’s not just emotional baggage—it’s spiritual bondage.  And the torment doesn’t leave until the debt is released—from the heart.

And that’s the other part Jesus made clear: it must be from the heart.

Not lip service.

Not religious performance.

Real, gut-wrenching, soul-surrendering forgiveness.

That doesn’t mean you feel good about it. It doesn’t mean you condone what happened. It means you stop carrying it like you’re judge and jury. It means you release them—and in doing so, release yourself.

“But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”— Matthew 6:15 (NIV)

That’s a condition. Jesus doesn’t leave room for interpretation here—He makes it clear: our forgiveness is tied to our willingness to forgive.  You can’t ask God to cleanse your slate while holding someone else’s sins in your grip. It's not about pretending it didn’t hurt. It's about releasing the power that hurt has over you. Forgiveness is the gate—and if you keep it closed, nothing flows through it. Not even grace.

Why don’t we preach this better?

Because it confronts people’s pain.

It forces them to choose between justice and freedom.

It says, “You can hold onto your hurt, or you can walk out of the prison—but you can’t do both.”

Jesus wasn’t trying to make us feel bad for not forgiving. He was trying to set us free from the torment that follows when we don’t.

Because here’s the truth:

God doesn’t want to hand us over to torment. But He will not violate His own Word. Mercy received must become mercy given—or it loops back as judgment.

When we block grace from flowing through us, we also block it from flowing to us.

Forgiveness isn’t letting them off the hook—it’s letting your soul breathe again. That’s where peace begins.

The good news?

Forgiveness is a spiritual key. It unlocks the chains we didn’t even realize we were wearing. You may not feel like forgiving, but the act of doing it by faith—trusting God with the outcome—begins a supernatural healing process no therapist, no medication, and no revenge could ever bring.

Let this be the untold side of the forgiveness message: Unforgiveness is not just unkind. It’s unsafe. It keeps wounds open. It invites torment. And it binds the very one trying to stay in control.

If that’s you—if the wound is still raw, if the memories still feel sharp, if you’ve said, “I can’t forgive”—then you’re not alone.

But Jesus never said forgiveness would be easy.

He said it would be necessary. 

Not for their sake—for yours.

If you’re living under torment—if bitterness has a grip on your heart, your thoughts, your peace—you can be released. You don’t have to partner with that demon another day. But make no mistake: if you do, six months from now, it won’t just be emotional.

That spirit will eat you alive from the inside out—feeding on your hatred, multiplying your offense, and dragging your soul into deeper darkness. That’s the trap. That’s the torment.

But forgive—and that torment lifts. It loses its grip. The cycle breaks. Peace returns.

Struggling? Then say so. Ask God for help. Tell Him, “I want to forgive—but I can’t do it without You. Help me forgive as if it never happened, in Jesus name”.

That honesty is the first crack in the prison wall.

And where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

Amanda Allen, the author of Kingdom Revelations, holds the copyright to her work, art, graphics, and videos. Copyright © Amanda Allen, Kingdom Revelations, 2025. All rights reserved. This article may be most definitely be shared with acknowledgment of the author and the original source of the Bible, the Word of God, created by Amanda's Bible Studies. Enjoy!