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MRCA Tyroler Gluckspilze
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A New World on 12g

Two hours into a 12g psilocybe cyenceans trip I find myself in a strange yet familiar world.



Two hours into a 12g psilocybe cyenceans trip I find myself in a strange yet familiar world.

As I slow my pace I ponder over the idea that my mind may never return. I stop to contemplate the move I am about to make. Shrugging away doubts I move towards the ornate stone archway marking the start of the bridge. As I step on to it I find myself walking faster.

What force could possibly effect me in this way? I have no time to think about it now though. Only the great Gods could ever answer my question, and even some of them aren’t in possession of all the facts. Right this second though as I approach the place where light ceased I would have gladly listened to the opinion of even the most lowly of the gods.

I can feel how cold the bridge is, and its complete lack of feeling. So unlike the constant hum some of the old structures of the past send out to me, and not at all like the rays that His house radiate, rays I can almost bath myself in. This bridge was built with no thought, there to serve a purpose, nothing else. It is built of stone and bricks, with tall dark sides that tower at least a three feet above my head, if not more. The only light generated comes from the full moon that is overhead, eerily casting a faint glow over the path in front.

Now as I near the middle of the bridge my heart begins to pound harder than my fist will once I reached His door. From the middle of the bridge onwards overhanging trees stops what little light there is from reaching the ground. Under the trees it’s more than dark, it’s a place where light no longer exists. I knew that many who had trudged this dangerous path had been driven insane walking under those evil trees; trees who absorbed all the energy in their vicinity in a way that twists and distorts reality. I knew that if I ran now as every instinct in my body told me to, fear would overtake me and I’d be lost, forever inhabiting His space.

Now I come to a dead stop, unsure as to whether I should continue, unsure what might happen if I do. Suddenly I spur into life, walking quickly into the point where light ceases, hoping against the odds to make out the other side.

The transition: reality changes, I now know not who I am or what kind of being I may be. All around me there are things completely unrecognisable yet in the back of my mind I think I may once have known what they were. My mind, what’s that? I am and that is it, thought is me and without thought I wouldn’t be. Looking down I see two long cylindrical objects attached to some kind of gelatinous form. No, it’s not really gelatinous; it’s the container for my soul, yes that’s what it is. I don’t quite understand why but I have control of the form I see below me. I find the cylindrical objects, despite their twisting and turning and bending in the airflow around me can be used to push me deeper into the darkness.

I think there’s a purpose, I must move, embrace the darkness, go ever further into a lightless place.

And back: in an instant everything is normal again. I collapse to the floor sighing with relief; I made it yet again. I look back and see the tops of the trees, which a moment before meant nothing to me. The bridge and the way I just came is obscured from vision by the dark patch were light ceases and the world as we know it doesn’t exist.

The path I just trod scared me no less this time than the first time I immersed myself. I know that I may have been there for days, as time has no meaning there or at least from the point of view of anything that enters. I believe though that I only inhabited that space for a short time, it would seem that visiting Him countless times gives the unconscious mind a better ability to get through.

I look forward at the dirt track leading through the wood and start my long journey along it. The trees around me seem to be leaning inwards, wanting to grasp and get a piece of me, but I know I am safe as long as I follow His path.

I shiver a long full body quaking, and I wonder whether it was brought on by the dark moaning wood that seems to breath with a unified conscious or the cold chill wrapped around me. A mixture of the two would be most likely and I decide to ignore both the cold and the evil wood around me in order to make my walk a less troubled one.

I stride onwards and start to mentally prepare myself for the meeting ahead. I know Him well and know my thoughts must be in order prior to going before his presence. Human minds are transparent to him and one stray thought could jeopardise everything. Shouldn’t be too difficult though, I’ve been hiding things from Him for a long time now.

After walking for almost two hours I come towards the centre of the dreaded forest and the heart of his realm. I wonder what it might look like in the light of day; even the dankest of places seemed to take on a new look when blessed with the bright natural light of the sun. I had seen many a city slum look enhanced to a bearable point by the summer’s sun. The only light that ever falls on His kingdom is the light of the moon, the sun refuses to show itself here.

The path now leads out from the oppressive overbearing forest and I was greeted by the steep hill on which his domain stands. The hill is impossibly tall and it’s gradient close to that of a mountain. Everything about it is unnatural including the grass that grows on it. Although grows isn’t really the best way to describe it, nothing in His realm grows, it just exists, just is. Each blade of grass is jet black with just a small colouring of blood red at the tip. He likes them this way; He likes all things that can inspire fear into the hearts of mortals. This includes the dark purple clouds that always condense in the sky above the treeless hill. These evil clouds create a continual display of sheet lightening, none ever actually forking to the ground.

Although the top of the hill isn’t visible from here I can already feel the black rays of evil that His house, which I know is up there at the crest, emit. The climb to that dwelling is a tiring one and I sit for a minute recovering some of the energy spent on the long walk. Looking down at the grass around me I see it starting to lengthen, twirl and cover my legs. Sitting down here for too long is a very bad idea. When I decide to get up I hear a high pitched wail as the strands of grass break in my swift freeing movement from them. The noise is barely perceivable, and someone who didn’t know better may not realise that they’re hearing the screams of the hurting grass.

On my feet again I start up the side of the hill. After just a couple of minutes walking the gradient increases to such a degree that the only viable way to continue is on hands and knees. He made it this way on purpose, having people come to his house crawling is enjoyable for him. Only the strongest of men can hope to take this route. Every movement is made harder by the gripping blades curling round my legs, ankles and hands.

Eventually his home comes into view and I know my journey nears an end. I can only hope to myself that I am blessed with the chance to return. The building before me is shaped as a gigantic arachnid. It’s body sitting on the peak of the hill while it’s eight legs trail down the sides. It really is an impressive view, and a frightening one. The building isn’t made from stone, wood or another man used material instead it’s created from the living matter of His many helpless victims. I have always been convinced that the house watches over His realm for Him, always maintaining a silent vigil.

At the top I get to my feet and walk between the spider structure’s two massive fangs, which together form an archway for the entrance. The door set between the two fangs is the only part of his home which is natural. It has been made from wood, and the only thing that makes it special at all is it’s enormous size. Towering above me, perhaps five times my height, I wonder that it can be opened at all. I smash my fist upon the rough grainy surface of the monolithic door. I can hear my heart beating loudly now as the door swung slowly inwards without making a noise. I almost think no sound is worse than if the door created a slightly eerie creaking as it opened. But He is clever, He knows a quiet door is disturbing in an evil Kingdom like this where you would expect anything but.

“ENTER,” His deep booming voice comes rolling out the door. I took a step inside and when I did the door closed behind me as silently as it had opened, not even a small thud as the door pops back into it’s frame. I stand in His chamber, which is empty. He doesn’t always show himself and when He does it’s rarely as His true form. The chamber is able to be shown as He deems fit, and today it is a rough dome, the top of which was just my height and that again. The walls are made from a substance that has the same texture of brain although a lot more pink in colour. They seem to be breathing ever so slightly but this could be a trick of my mind.

I look to the centre of the room, where I perceive his presence to be and focus on the task at hand.
“I have It,” I pronounced as boldly as I could.
“YOU, YOU HAVE IT?” The anger in his voice is almost more than I could bear.
“Yes,” my voice a little less confident now.
“YOU TOOK IT FROM ME?”
“That’s right, I had It all along,” my hands were beginning to tremble now and I had to concentrate hard to make them stop.
“YOU UNGRATEFUL INSOLENT FOOL, GIVE IT TO ME NOW.” It almost sounded as though something was going to burst from him, his anger I’m sure by this point almost too much to contain.
“Do you really think after seven centuries in your employ I would have made the mistake of bringing It with me?” I almost found myself mocking him with my tone and instantly wished I hadn’t.
“YOU WILL TELL ME WHERE IT IS, NOW. IF YOU DON’T I WILL TEAR EACH OF YOU LIMBS OFF ONE BY ONE BEFORE FEEDING YOU TO THE MAGGOTS.”
I shuddered at the thought, I had seen this kind of thing done before and His maggots got to work much quicker than their natural counter parts and were quite happy to munch on living flesh as a pose to dead.
“Ha,” I laughed meekly, “I’m not afraid of death, you know that.”
“YES BUT THERE ARE WORSE THINGS.”
I tried not to cringe, not to show my fear but it was hard, He had many other ways of torture that would soon make me relish the thought of death.
“Why don’t you just hear my terms?” I couldn’t imagine what his response would be.
“TERMS?” His voice now boomed louder and was fuelled by more anger than I had ever known in Him before.
“Yeah, I don’t mind giving it back, I just want something in return.”
“YOU DON’T GIVE ME TERMS. GIVE ME WHAT IS MINE AND I MIGHT NOT THROW YOU INTO THE VOID.”
I shivered all over unable to hold it back. The Void is His term for the place where light ceases, just passing through is bad enough, but to spend eternity there.
My thought was interrupted, “YES I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU FEAR THAT.” He almost sounded pleased now.
“Put me there and you’ll never get It back,” I said with some confidence.
“YOU KNOW I CAN SEE ALL THAT IS YOU WHILE YOU’RE THERE, YOUR EGO STRIPPED AWAY AND YOUR MIND EXPOSED TO ME FULLY”
“Yeah but I don’t know where It is, I’ve passed It on.”
“YOU KNOW WHO DOES THOUGH.” He said almost as a question, although closer to a statement.
“Of course, but they have strict instructions to destroy It if I don’t return before the next new moon. With all you’ve taught me and the way time distorts in the Void it should take longer than that for you to extract the information from me.” I said this knowing that this would be the crucial moment, would He just probe my mind anyway.
“WE SHALL SEE, RIGHT NOW”
“NO,” I shouted “Is it really worth you taking the risk?”
He paused, for the first time unsure of Himself; I felt a ray of hope tingle through my body.
“WHAT IS IT YOU WANT?”
Great! I never even thought I would get as far as making him hear my request.
“Simple, I want to leave, to no longer do your bidding,” another anxious moment for me as I waited for His reply.
“YOU KNOW YOU WORK FOR ME TILL THE END OF YOUR DAYS”
“No longer, I want to leave.”
“AND THAT’S WHAT ALL THIS IS ABOUT. YOU TOOK IT FROM ME IN ORDER TO LEAVE?” His voice came across as a mixture of shock and puzzlement.
“Yes.” I stated bluntly.
“WHY?” The piercing suggestive quality in his voice surprised me, I almost felt compelled to answer.
“I’m fed up with doing your evil tasks.”
“YOU LIE, DON’T THINK YOU CAN HIDE THAT MUCH FROM ME,” his voice was louder now, much louder.
“WHY?” He shouted again, the word almost distorted by the depth and volume of his voice. I felt will leave me and a picture appeared in my head that I had successfully pushed aside so far.
“FOR A WOMAN. YOU WANT TO LEAVE FOR A WOMAN?” He was astounded and his tone was one I had never heard him use before.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU COULD EXPERIENCE SUCH FEELINGS ANYMORE. LOVE HAS NO PLACE WITH EVIL, I BELIEVED SUCH EMOTIONS WERE EXTINGUISHED IN YOU CENTURIES AGO.”
“Well that’s your error, I have been shown a better way than hate, fear, pain and misery. I no longer take pleasure in exacting out your whims and vendettas.”
“THERE IS NO BETTER WAY FOOL, DO YOU WANT TO BE A PATHETIC WEAK BEING FALLING PRAY TO SELFLESSNESS AND THE HARDSHIP IT CAUSES?”
“I would hardly expect you to understand. You are the symbol for all that’s negative about the world.”
“HA, YOU FOOL, LISTEN TO YOURSELF. LOVE MAKES YOU WEAK.”
“Only from your perspective.”
“ENOUGH. I WANT TO HEAR NO MORE. NOW YOU HAVE SHOWN HER TO ME I WILL HAVE HER BROUGHT HERE SO YOU CAN WATCH HER EXCRUCIATINLY PAINFULL DEATH.”
“Do that and you will never get back what’s yours.”
“DON’T BE SO SURE ABOUT THAT, ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER EXPERIENCE SUCH A FEELING, BEING A GOD I FULLY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONS OF MAN AND YOU WILL BE SURPRISED AT WHAT LOVE MAY MAKE YOU DO.”
“Yeah, but,” I was cut of mid sentence.
“THAT’S ALL, I WILL HEAR NO MORE. GO SPEND SOME TIME IN THE VOID.” And He uttered a black word in His tongue, the tongue of power.

Transition, like a snapping elastic band: I am what? I was not here a second ago or was I? What is a second anyway; part of time? I can’t quite think what time may be. The passing of one moment to another? But now is the same as now, has time passed during that thought? Where am I? What am I? Wasn’t I somewhere different a moment ago? Or was that another life? Questions, so many of them yet no answers.

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