Valhalla Underground?
If I am I And you are you Then who is X
by
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my mind goes berserk. I stop just long enough to rationalize why in the world they are even here. Thinking back to the robbery, I remember giving away my name in arrogance. My hate subsides and my diaphragm twitches rhythmically. I am laughing. I am beside myself! I lose control!!! It's a lucid dream that burned my psyche with déjà vu. As I lie on the couch in my dark hysteria, I hear a microphone booming with irreverent justice as if I am standing next to a stack of speakers piled to the heavens. "
I cannot believe how cliché this is. It's like I'm in a nineteen twenties gangster flick, and this is my last hurrah. "WE HAVE A WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST!!!" Shut up already! As my brain races for solutions, I find myself pacing the floor violently. I'm on a beach, with a metal detector, and it's a fucking mine field! I grab the shotgun out of the main hallway closet and redirect my pacing into the old bedroom. Past all the marijuana, crystal meth, and assorted prescription pills, I find my father's 38 special. I haven't been in this closet since I was a kid. Amidst all the Polaroid pictures of children in every imaginable despicable sexual position, I find a well-aged supply of bullets. Hopefully bullets age
"COME ON OUT XAVIER!!!" I hear rattling at all sides of the trailer: the window, the door, even the floor seem to quake. They are coming for me. "Not without a fight, you greasy swine!" Fully armed, and partially aware of their strategic placement, which was sub-par at best, I slip into the living room and barricade the front door with my decrepit couch and my stereo system. I figure this has to be a moment of sheer poetry. My stereo is ready. In my disc changer is a CD ready to answer back with the only song I can think of to fit this moment. With the speakers at sniper positions in the two windows bordering the front door, I unleash the wrath of the song `You're a cop' by Anal Cunt. "You like music piggy pie!?" As the intro grows to a climax, I peek cautiously through the left window. In my limited field of vision, I see a blue suit guarding the window from the outside. With his back to the wall, strategically placed just outside my immediate vision, he waves his hand to signal some action from his fellow pork corps. Shifting
"SHI…" The megaphone has now been lowered. I hear what seems like the subtle pants of an infant. "Shots fired…shots fired…officer down…officer down…" My shotgun shreds the wall like rice paper. I catch a glimpse of a blue suit soaked in red and white skin. Red, white, and blue, the American reverie - I jest to myself. No, this reverie is mine and mine alone! With my malevolent deed now done, I have slit the throat of my childlike innocence to minced size refuse. I can now be the man I need to be at this very moment. My newfound confidence has me boasting loudly inside the trailer. "YOU FUCKING PIG!!!" What to do now? Well, take out the rest of the bacon brigade of course! My newfound assurance is swiftly proven folly. I indeed take out every blue suit I see, covering them in red followed by ashy white. But, a blast of rubber pellets and rock salt soon take me down, coupled with a potentially lethal rifle shot to my lower torso. Ha! Only one cop has the balls to shoot-to-kill! The rest still want to incarcerate me! The shock of gunfire floors me and I fall through my front door. As I lay on my wooden porch, I do more crimson justice now than I did with my fist full of keys. I feel consciousness slipping through my fingers like rain. Before I let that happen I make one final statement, which beautifully concludes the musical styling of Anal Cunt. This brilliantly appropriate song unashamedly calls out the police force on its racist agenda, its ineffectiveness in society as-is, and comically toys with the clichés of donut eating and coffee drinking. These fat piggy fucks have experienced every bit of the wrath that one man could offer, and I did it with style. "Red, white, and blue! Piggy pie! My gift to you!" With only a few seconds left before I am swept away in a sweet obsidian dream, I sigh with content. I gave them hell. And I am proud to say, that I fought with purpose. My heart feels heavy, and I pass out. "Lacy, how do you feel today?" "Lacy?" "My patient may seem lucid periodically. Don't let that get your hopes up." "That's more than we've seen in recent years. Does that mean there is hope?" "Hope is the best medicine.""Then hope, I will provide." "…" "…" "…" "…Will…ever…come back…to me?" "I think it's best you let it be for right now. Dry your eyes." "Thank you. Come back to me…Please come back…I miss you…" "Lacy…I love you."
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About the Book
I'd like you to meet my friend Xavier Basch. He hates cops, authority, government; you know, anything that restrains him. Xavier seeks the kind of unattainable freedom that only an anarchical nihilist could dream. The irony is, that his relentless search to realize his own destiny lands him in prison. Now granted, killing a cop would seem to be the most counter-productive attempt to liberate one's self, but Xavier can be a little irrational at times. You see, Xavier's heart is laden with heaviness of his dark past. He represses these memories to such a strong degree, that he passes out frequently. It's like he can control his own amnesia! Inside his lucid dreams, he finds familiar sights and sounds. A dream world too subtle and boring to be fantasy. In fact, Xavier's dreams are so lifelike that he sometimes confuses the waking world with the dream world. Which poses very intriguing questions. Is his life in prison reality, or are his boring dreams? Is Xavier a heavily confused mental case, or is he the only one who knows the truth? Perhaps the most frightening question is: Is Xavier really Xavier? If I am I And you are you Then, who is X?
About the Author
A man who appreciates counter-culture like fine whiskey, R.W. Garcia proposes a new ideal freedom. A work three years in the making, Valhalla Underground is R.W. Garcia's personal journey with his new love of storytelling. His story suggests that freedom is hidden deep within, that such an intangible property is more a characteristic than a virtue.