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     | |              _/_/_____    | |   > >    _/_/_____               | |

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     | |      c   o   m   m   u   n   i   c   a   t   i   o   n   s     | |

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  ...presents...                    Inject Me

                                                         by Obscure Images



                      >>> a cDc publication.......1990 <<<

                        -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-

 ______________________________________________________________________________





        The man turned out of the worn-looking grey metal door into the alley.

The garbage piled on the ground was swarming with vermin.  The rats scurried

around in the darker areas of the alley.  The man looked around briefly and

then walked down the alley onto the busy street.  The street was the same as

the rest in the city, everything was illuminated with a neon glow from the

signs that were everywhere.  The people walking around him were dressed in the

new fashion.  Harry would have none of that.  Harry wore his ancient trenchcoat

as if it were a king's robe.  The rain beaded on his coat, keeping the water

from Harry's skin.  The package in Harry's inside pocket rustled a bit when he

walked.



        Harry began the journey that would take him to his apartment, if you

could call it that, on the other side of town.  He walked with the southbound

crowd of people, moving swiftly with the others along the sidewalk until he

reached his subway station.  Harry looked at his hand and shuddered.  The skin

appeared to have a few bubbles surfacing just under the skin.  "Damn, it's

starting already," he thought.  He picked up his gait and started climbing down

the slick stairs.  "Damn that calypso music, and those fucking bats too," Harry

muttered.



        At the bottom of the stairs he bought his ticket and found that the

next train wouldn't be for another 30 minutes.  He went to the news machine and

punched for a copy of ToxiLife Magazine.  He stuck his credit chip into the

slot on the machine and it printed up the latest issue.  Harry sat down on the

bench closest to him and began to read.  On the cover this month was Sherri

Walthers, the media's newest sensation, staring out of the paper into Harry's

eyes.  The irises suddenly glimmered, then began to swirl with a neon blue and

black pattern.  Harry shook his head and the eyes were back to normal.  He

opened to the table of contents and decided to look at that article on the new

chemical disaster, this one in Haiti.  "Great pictures on this one," thought

Harry as he looked at the corpses of a mother and child.  The picture of the

corpses began to move, Harry closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was

staring into the horribly charred face of the mother from the picture.  Her

face was half-melted, and her eyes were rotting away - she opened her mouth and

whispered, "Hello Harry, come join us, come join us...."  Harry screamed, a

passer-by stopped and asked if he was ok.



        "Yes, I'm ok now, thank you," said Harry.  He threw the magazine away

and stood waiting for the train.



        "Fucking lizard monkeys, always plaguing me.  Harassing my doggie, who

only complains about it to me.  Fuckers.  I hate them all."



        The old train rolled into the station.  Harry climbed into it and sat

down near the door.  Next to him was a drooling old woman who looked at him

with a curiously vacant look.  Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked away

from her, focusing on the beautiful woman sitting across from him.



        "Hello my dear penguin, have you anything for the bears?" asked Harry.



        "Why certainly, my dear hippopotamus.  Do you like to frolic with the

cod?" she said.



        "Most of the time I just have to look at the pictures of the

politicians, if I can walk that far you know."



        "You are an interesting man, for a bread salesman that is.  Would you

like to go to my cave and have some iced tuna?"



        "I must be going to my own apartment, perhaps I could bring you with.

That is only if you hit my doggie on the way in."



        "Sure, I can and will.  Would you jump on my puppy?" she said,

extracting a cat from her blue vinyl bag.



        Harry reached out and gave the cat a pat on the head.  The head rose up

and became a knife that threatened to spear his hand at the next pat.  His hand

kept going only to pat the head of the cat again.  "Oh christ, I better get

home quick," he thought and continued to talk to the girl with the blue bag.



        The train stopped, leaving Harry and the girl with the cat behind in

the gloom as it began its trek to other parts of the city.  The girl followed

Harry through the streets towards his apartment.  The cat curled up in the blue

bag and fell asleep.



        Harry was not paying attention to the girl.  He looked at his watch,

stepping a bit faster as he saw it melt down his arm into a splatter on the

ground.  The girl pulled on Harry's sleeve to get his attention and said, "Oh

look!  A fish sauna!  Can we stop there Harry?" pointing to a curved building

with a red neon goldfish floating in a smokey mist.



        "Have to get home, I'm running out of time," said Harry.



        "Time for what?"  Harry ignored her again.



        They passed a 24 hour weapons shop when Harry began mumbling, "My

fingers are long, I keep tripping on them."  The girl scratched her head,

unable to see Harry's fingers grow long enough to trip over.  If there was

anything that was worth seeing it would be 3 foot long fingers, she thought

lustily.



        The wind started to pick up and before too long it was sending a

biting chill through Harry and the girl.  He couldn't think of anything other

then getting home.  Wind and cold were meaningless.  Very little time.  Harry

started to experience system malfunctions at an increasing rate.  There would

be no way to get home.  Stopping suddenly he took the package out of his pocket

and ripped off the wrapper.  The two vials and a syringe that were in the

package were all that was important.  It had to be the right dose; if he were

at home the computer would calculate how much was needed.  Too little and his

skin would shred itself, but too much would kill him just as badly.



        Harry guessed at the amount of drug to pull into the syringe and then

bared his arm to the needle.  "Here goes nothing," he said while plunging the

needle into his vein.  Unfortunately, there wasn't enough in the syringe to

halt the disease and Harry managed to mutter a "shit" before his skin shredded

itself off.  The girl watched the scene with horror and ran away, but not

before emptying his pockets and taking his valuables.



  _   _   ____________________________________________________________________

/((___))\|The Dead Zone........214/522-5321|Demon Roach Undrgrnd..806/794-4362|

 [ x x ] |NIHILISM.............415/285-9453|The People Farm.......916/673-8412|

  \   /  |Tequila Willy's GSC..209/526-3194|The Bombay............714/897-0412|

  (' ')  |Lunatic Labs.........213/655-0691|The Works.............617/861-8976|

   (U)   |====================================================================|

  .ooM   |(c)1990 cDc communications by Obscure Images.          06/22/90-#143|

\_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.                                             |







