Preamble

I walk around the center of a big city for spiritual information meetings with the public.

A man seems particularly interested in my words ; we talk for a few moments and then he says :

« I'm a mafia killer. I was sentenced to twenty years in prison and I have just come out of prison. »

Initiation

The man, slicked back hair seems a little off-center, but above all an extremely disturbing smell emanates from him.

As a student, I had worked during the summer, one of which was at a caterer shop where we sometimes had to unload the carcasses from the nearby slaughterhouse. I recognize that smell.

The character continues his story:

« My father was also a mafia killer. One day, at the age of thirteen, he gave me a gun and said: kill him! ” Showing me a passerby.

« What did he do? ” I asked..

« Nothing. Kill him! ” He insisted.

This is apparently how his initiation began.

The guy, a little disoriented, was hoping for support from me ; when you leave civilization for twenty years, the environment you have known has changed a lot or simply no longer exists.

I helped him as I could, while remaining conscious of being in front of an individual who did not know how to solve the difficulties of everyday life other than by domination and murder.

The horror

Some time passed by.

I was meeting this man in non-baryonic space-time this time. I don't know the circumstances of his death.

The environment is obscure and landless. I can see in the distance the silhouette of a building that reminds me of a hospital center. I go there immediately with a thought. The interior is more reminiscent of a dilapidated prison.

My gaze is immediately attracted by corkscrew textures everywhere. While I wonder about their nature, I discover the individual I am looking for.

He lies naked on a cot, his body flooded with a stream of black blood up to the neck.

As I wondered if he was unconscious or simply asleep, he felt my presence and suddenly stood up, sitting on the edge of his bed.

He knows why I came to visit him; unable to speak, he gave me great negative signs of the head to tell me that I could do nothing for him.

When I left him, I understood that the heterogeneous forms everywhere were in fact feces.