### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # #### ####### #### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## #### ## ## #### # # ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ###### ## ###### [Five Stories From The Metaphysical Workshop] [ By The GNN ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ "FIVE STORIES FROM THE METAPHYSICAL WORKSHOP" by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu ---------------------------------------------------------- Yes, I have stolen the name 'the metaphysical workshop' from Bob Slack, sysop at one of our distribution sites. I found the name quite interesting, and it inspired me to write this small file. Thanks Bob, I hope you do not mind too much... ---------------------------------------------------------- Rain fell on me, soaked my clothes and left me freezing. It was dark in the woods and I was completely lost. Day had turned into thick night. I stumbled through the maze of trees, without any sense of direction. Then suddenly. Light! I saw light from a window in the distance. Close to me there was a small cabin, and when I got closer to it the door swung open all by itself. I entered and fell to the floor. The door closed. I felt the heat from an open fire at one end of the room and when I looked up I faced an old man. He smiled and grabbed my arms and pulled me up. Dizziness overwhelmed me as I stood up. - Welcome! I guess I have awaited you! You look tired, let me help you with your hat and coat. He took my hat and coat and placed them by the fire to dry. He wore a long white beard and must have been over eighty years old. The cabin had only one room. There was a stool, a rickety table and the walls were filled with frames - without any paintings inside them. The old man noticed my confusion. - My boy, do not worry. This is not an ordinary house. You are in the border zone of the real world and the transcendent reality. This is the metaphysical workshop. Since you are my guest, I will show you some of my paintings. - What paintings? The frames are completely empty! The old man put one finger to his mouth and hushed. He pointed at something behind me and I looked around. In one end of the room, one frame begun to glow. I walked closer. There was a sudden painting inside the frame and it moved like a motion picture. The five paintings in the metaphysical workshop began. FIRST PAINTING: THE KILL - Fuck her, he mumbled over and over again. Fuck her, fuck her, fuck that motherfucking bitch! He was a good-looking man, completely pissed off, sitting in the bar with a beer in his hand. He squeezed the glass so hard, that his friend on the other side of the table wondered if it was going to break any second. - Fuck her..., he moaned. - Actually, his friend said, I have not the slightest clue what you are talking about. Fuck who? - My wife. Fuck that bitch. I hate her. - Why? - I work like an animal, day in and day out, and the only thing she do when I get home is to complain. Complain, complain, complain! Fuck that bitch! I could kill her! I will kill her! His friend looked around. Nobody had heard them. - Wait a second! Calm down... you do not know what you are talking about! 'Kill her'? Give me a break! It cannot be that bad! - Oh, it can... it sure can. Some day, I will kill her! - No, you will not. You do not want to kill her. You are simply totally pissed off at the moment. Tomorrow, everything will be much better. - No way! - Listen! You are only angry! Your mind does not listen to reason! You could kill anyone at the moment, just to get rid off your anger! The man looked at his friend with a calm face. - You are right. Then he shot his friend in the head. He died immediately. SECOND PAINTING: THE LAST WISH He spoke to his two grown-up children. - I am old. His children stared at him. - What do you mean? Old? - I am old, and my heart is bad. I will not live much longer. My doctor gave me the news today. I will die in less than six months. - Dad... - Do not worry, it will be hard for you. But do not worry. I am prepared and ready. I have only one last wish. I want to live through christmas and I want to experience the new year. Then I can die in peace. I know God will be with me and let me live for those few weeks before he takes me. I thank him for his mercy. It had been five days to christmas when he told his children the sad news. The next day, his heart weakened and he had to be rushed to the hospital. He did not live for six months, he died three weeks later. But God had helped him with his wish. He had lived through the christmas and into the new year. But not really how he had wanted to live. He did not experience anything, since he was in a deep coma the last three weeks. THIRD PAINTING: THE RAPE He moaned and pulled out his sore dick from her bleeding rectum. - Bitch, he grunted through his whiskey-soaked lips. Did you like it? Did you? Was it good for you too, eh? Fucking whore! It was a lie, but he enjoyed saying it to his victims: - To fulfill your excitement, let me also welcome you to a deadly disease that there is no cure for! He spelled the word slowly. - A... I... D... S... The woman turned her badly beaten face to him. She opened her eyes and said with a soft, but mean, voice: - It is not worse the second time. FOURTH PAINTING: THE FRONT LINE People screamed, people were blown to pieces, people shot and people died in the trench. I tried to keep my head down as the enemy approached us. The attack was unexpected, which means that it was a good attack. - Third platoon! Get going for christ sake! screamed the sergeant. A grenade exploded only ten metres from me with a loud bang. Blood and body parts rained over us. I rose from the trench and fired a few rounds. The sound from my gun almost made me deaf. A screaming man without his left arm ran past me. A second later, someone blew his brains away. - Use your guns! Shoot! someone yelled hysterically. I saw my own platoon die, one by one. Bullets riddled men to nothing, grenades mutilated us. Then we heard the familiar sound of artillery fire. Loud, deep, dull bangs echoed through the battle fields. I saw flames by the horizon. Suddenly everything turned silent. Nobody fired. - Do you think they have aimed at us? a friend of mine whispered to me. - We will soon find out... I prayed to God, Satan, Mohammed, every damn power I knew that the shells were not meant for us. But I was wrong. The yelling sound of incoming bombs pierced my ears and into my brain. I awaited the explosion and my own death. I closed my eyes hard and waited. I must have been waiting for minutes before I dared to open my eyes. I was alive! I looked around to check out my platoon. Something was wrong. Nobody moved. They had not died, everything looked like a frozen film. Eyes stared into nothing, running people stood still in the middle of the air. I looked up and saw six grenade shells above us, in the air! They did not move. Everything was silent. There was a sound behind me and I turned around. A man with a black suit and white tie stood on the edge of the trench and looked at me. He reached for my hand and pulled me up. - Shall we go? he asked me. With a deep sigh I followed him and I knew exactly where we were going. FIFTH PAINTING: THE INHERITANCE The boy felt the light breeze stroking his hair. The wind was much stronger here on the small mountain than down by the house. He enjoyed the view. Everywhere he looked, he saw more mountains, woods and houses. In the back of his head, something told him that he was looking at a kingdom. A big kingdom full of wealth and power. - Everything you see is mine, said the old man beside him. I own all of this. I own the houses, the woods and the mountains! - I know grandpa, the boy said. The old man went to the edge of the cliff and looked down. - Come here. What do you see down there? The boy did not move. - Come on grandpa! I know what is down there! It is our house! - Yes, yes... you are right. I am old, and I will die soon. When I am dead, all of this will be yours. The houses, the woods and the mountains! All of it will be yours. Do you understand what I am saying? The boy looked confused. He was young, only nine years old. - I think so... when you pass away, you will give everything to me. The old man smiled. - Right, my boy! Everything! Some day it will be yours! The houses, woods and mountains became his the next day. On that small mountain, all that had been required was a hard kick in the back of the old man to get him off the cliff. The pictures in the paintings slowly faded away into nothing, revealing a dark wall inside the frames. - Quite a show! I said. The old man stroke his beard and said: - Thank you. I am glad they amused you. - How do you do this? - I analyze the present causal mechanism in the world. I work with it and sometimes I manage to come up with bizarre things. What I make, are real incidents. It is nothing special. - You have created all of this? In my world? - It is my world too. - Are you God? - No, there is no God. I am simply the headmaster of metaphysics. - Metaphysics... I have always thought that the transcendent reality was not available for us. - And you are right! It is not for everyone. You have been lucky. Welcome back some other day, if you manage to find me. The door swung open. The old man gave me my hat and coat. The rain outside was cold and disturbing. But I did not mind. I had seen the metaphysical workshop. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 1-2-2029 Tonight the stars are shining bright. Woa! Call THE METAPHYSICAL WORKSHOP! 317-736-6439! \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ Invisible and silent. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #171 Underground eXperts United 1994 uXu #171 Call PEGASUS -> +41-71-715577 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------