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HACKING INTO HELL
The True Story of Harry Poindexter
by The Raver
>>> A CULT Publication......1988 <<<
-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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This file was originally put out by The Lords of Twilight. With its
re-release, cDc comm. is quite orgasmic to announce The Raver's unceasing
fulfillment as a child of the Cow. -SR
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In the Beginning...
The house was as silent as the moon was bright that dark, perilous night
back in December. The living room was dark...the stairs, equally so.
Surveying the upstairs hall we see that all is dark, save a narrow bar of light
escaping under one of the white doors. The faint sound of tapping could be
heard...
Behind this particular door was the bedroom of a teenage boy. The room's
occupant, one Harry Poindexter, was present. He sat in his "self-styled"
throne tapping away incessantly at his keyboard. Let us look and see what
he is doing... click click click..."Damn!"...click click click...
Harry, an accomplished hacker, called himself the Avocado Bandit, in
memory of his greatest hero. He was using his Apple IIe to attempt to break
into a local system that he had just recently discovered. Here is what his
monitor echoed to him...
CONNECT
Purgatory Systems, Inc. UNIX System V
;login: _
What utter melancholy thoughts draped this young boy's mind. He had been
trying to gain access for the last six hours. Thoughts of getting a super-
user account and the powers he could wield brought him to the brink of orgasm.
"I must succeed," thought Harry, "I will succeed ... for I am the Avocado
Bandit!" As the last of his default logins failed, he sat back and thought of
events that occurred earlier in the day...
When he had skipped school so he could log on to all the boards and leave
messages about his newest victories, when he called his poor mother a worthless
dog, when he sullenly apologized a half hour later and went to the grocery
store with her so he could get some "Mr. T Cereal", and when he set up a
conference with some of his "k-phriends" so that they could exchange codes and
info.
He told AE to autodial the number again and resumed his task with a
renewed vigor. This time when the login prompt appeared, he felt a cold chill
and a single word materialized in his cranial passages ... Lucifer. Here is
what happened when he logged on again...
CONNECT
Purgatory Systems, Inc. UNIX System V
;login: lucifer
password: _
Getting worried, he hung up and thought. Small beads of sweat appeared on
his white fulfillment. Although he had posted logins on boards all over the
country he had never actually hacked one out. Nay. He simply "leeched" the
logins from other systems and re-posted them saying that he had hacked it.
Now he was worried. He had gotten through the first door. Now how to get
past the second? "Lucifer," muttered Harry, "What word is akin to that?"
"Satan? Belial? Beelzebub?" He dialed the number yet again...
CONNECT
Purgatory Systems, Inc. UNIX System V
;login: lucifer
password: satan
Last login: Fri Feb 12 08:05
$ _
"Oh my God," exclaimed Harry Poindexter, "I'm in!" With that, Harry tried the
ever-useful who command...
$ who am i
lucifer tty08 Feb 13 02:06
For the next hour Harry played with the unusual UNIX system. By 3:30 AM
he had created himself a super-user account. He hung up and dialed in again to
test out his new account...
CONNECT
Purgatory Systems, Inc. UNIX System V
;login: sammy
password: toyz
Last login: Sat Feb 13 3:24
$ _
"Man," exclaimed Harry, "That's so K!" He hung up and went downstairs to
the kitchen. His rummaging around in the refrigerator woke his mother up. She
came downstairs in her bathrobe and went to the kitchen... "What are you doing,
young man," she exclaimed. "You know it's way past your bedtime."
"But mom," whined Harry, "I'm just getting some Kudos and a glass of milk." Harry poured his milk into his Superman glass and listened intently to
his mother.
"Son, it's 3:30 in the morning. Why don't you eat your snack, wash and
brush, and go to bed. Please, son," pleaded his mother.
"Okay, mom," said Harry, the resentment in his voice plain as day. With
that his mother went back upstairs.
A few minutes later Harry went back up to his room (which he called
Pirate's Zone) and sat down on his bed to munch upon his Kudos and milk. After
he was done eating, he set the dishes down in the corner and lifted up the
mattress of his bed and retrieved a ragged, dog-eared issue of Penthouse. He
sat in his bed and tossed off for a while. When he was done he just looked at
the pictures for a while and wished that he could kiss a girl... He then fell
into a deep sleep, his light and computer still on.
The Next Day Is Not Always Brighter...
On Sunday, Harry awoke with a start. He had had raving nightmares all
night. In one particularly horrifying episode he had dreamed that he was tied
and bound to a post on a ledge far above a vast cavern. Filling the cavern
were hundreds upon hundreds of demons. In front of him was a large iron anvil
and
his limp cock was tied to it with a thong of black leather. In front of his
sweaty face dangled a microphone with a small ID badge on it. The badge read
"HBC Radio 666". He looked around the cavern. The reddish glow horrified him
the most. He whimpered and was shocked to hear that such a small sound echoed
throughout the dankness of the cavern at such a high volume. His mortal mind
attributed that to the microphone that swayed gently before him. His fear
grew stronger when he heard the thumping of footsteps to his right. He looked
over his shoulder and saw a demon approaching him. The demon had the torso of
a man and the legs of a goat. It had a pentacle burned into its hairy chest
and wore both a headsman's mask and a necklace of linked golden discs. The
masses cheered as this executioner approached poor Harry. Harry was confused
and bewildered, that is until he saw what the demon cum executioner carried,
a large sledge hammer. Harry glanced down at his dongle and choked back a
scream. The masses were going crazy as the executioner hefted the sledgehammer
up high. Harry screamed as the sledgehammer connected with his cock. That was
when Harry awoke with a start...
His mother was calling to him, telling him to come downstairs to eat his
breakfast. Harry got up and slinked over to his computer, clutching at his
crotch all the way. On the screen was printed something that horrified him.
Here is what Harry saw on his monitor...
Did you enjoy your nap? We're waiting for you to come and visit us..._
Harry stifled a gasp and flipped the ON/OFF switch at the back of his Apple.
The monitor shimmered, flickered, and then went blank. Harry ran downstairs
to eat his breakfast...
When Harry had finished filling his stomach with eggs and pancakes we ambled
back upstairs to get ready for church. He undressed and hopped into the shower.
He liked to pretend that it was the transporter chamber on the U.S.S. Enter-
prise^^ on StarTrek. As he turned on the water he heard a chilling voice...
"Ready to beam down...energizing..."
As Harry shrieked the water turned a crimson hue and he passed out. When he
awoke he was in fetters and chains and naked as could be. He tried to hide
his "manhood" as he stood before the great, iron-wrought throne of Satan,
Lord of Hell. Satan smiled at him... all Harry could do was whimper. As Harry
stood there, cringing before the might of Satan, he tried not to think of the
dreams he had had the night before...
Into the Lungs of Hell...
"You are a pitiful sight, mortal. Had you not hacked your way onto one of my
UNIX systems I might never have known of you," said Satan, "but the things
that you have done to my Purgatory are great indeed. Do you know what trouble
you have caused, boy?" A tear streamed down Harry's cheek, "But all I did was
to create a super-user account. Honest. I swear to God...ulp." Satan bellowed
forth with an intensity that shook the very foundations of this text file...
rumble...rumble...rumble...
"Enough!" screamed Satan. "I sentence you to never-ending aeons of punishment
and torture! You will forever wish to die! Just when it appears that your
mortal body can no longer take the punishment I shall give it you will be
healed. Thus you will never die! In fact, I bequeath upon you that which man
has sought for all eternity... immortality!" And with a mere flick of Satan's
taloned hand Harry instantaneously reappeared elsewhere in Hell...
Harry was sweating profusely when he found out what kind of predicament he was
in. Lying on his back, the warm and rocky floors of Hell gave him little com-
fort. He was still naked and he was in a spread-eagle position, hand and foot
bound to an iron stake firmly implanted in the barren floor. High in the dim,
reddish skies of Hell circled several vultures, eaters of carrion. He could
hear the screams of anguish of his "neighbors". What was his fate?
Less than a score of minutes later the punishment that Satan had ordered was
brought down on him, never to cease. Four imps of Hell fluttered over on their
small, membraneous wings. They landed to his sides and snickered in their evil
and high-pitched voices. One of them grinned and bit his leg. Harry screamed.
The gaping wound in his left thigh seemed a well of crimson. But as Harry was
experiencing the pain of such a wound it miraculously healed up. Harry, fulfillment'
no longer in pain from the bite, was still screaming his lungs out... It was
then that another of the imps assaulted him. This one raised his iron pitch
fork up high in the air and brought it downwards, mercilessly grinding its
three forked points into Harry's crotch. The screams filled the air, the gore
and blood welled, all to no avail. For as soon as the damage was done the
wound healed itself back up.
The Light is Always Darkest at the End of the Tunnel...
Thus was Harry's fate sealed for all eternity. But what of his poor mother,
you ask? Quite simply answered, friend. When she heard Harry's shriek while
he was in the shower she ran upwards to see what was wrong. When she got to
the shower where Harry had been she was greeted by an unpleasant sight. The
body of Harry (or rather an imitation thereof, for the real Harry was in
Hell) lay over the drain. His body was covered in lacerations and blood was
splashed all over the place. And right in the middle of his forehead stuck
out the handle of a knife, the blade buried deep within his cranium. Mrs.
Poindexter screamed only once before she died of massive heart palpitations.
Thus ends our wonderful excursion into the Lower Infernal Regions. Join me
next time when we experience more demonic slaughter...
===============================================================================
(c)1988 cDc communications by The Raver 2/25/88-47
All Rights Worth Shit