Read Furnace 3 - Death Sentence for Free Online

become.’ He stood, walking to the curtain that sealed off my cubicle from the rest of the infirmary. ‘Don’t question it, just accept it. The nectar will show you what really lies at your core.’
    He had almost gone by the time I put together my next question.
    ‘But who are you?’ I said to his back. He paused, then turned to face me, the white curtain a shroud around him. For an instant I met his eyes, raw pits that seemed to have no end and which radiated power.
    ‘Who am I?’ he repeated, chewing on the question. ‘I am the man who made you. I am your father.’
    Then the white fabric flapped and he was gone, leaving me alone with my smile.

FLESH
    They came for me while I was sleeping.
    I opened my eyes to see the illuminated ceiling flow past above me like a river of molten rock, the gurney rattling against the stone floor. There was a flap of plastic as I was wheeled through the slats that marked the exit from the infirmary, towards the operating theatres, the rooms where the wheezers worked their sick magic. I felt no fear, even though I knew where I was going.
    And why.
    I heard the staccato song of an electronic lock, followed by the hiss of the door sliding open. A chorus of wheezes fluttered from the room ahead as the surgeons inside greeted my arrival. I didn’t have to look up to picture their faces, the rusted gas masks sewn into their decaying flesh, the gleam in those black, piggy eyes. I felt my skin crawl at the thought of them, but I ignored the sensation. After all, it wouldn’t be my skin for much longer. I’d soon be a new man, far stronger, iron muscles wrapped in a jacket of steel.
    My head lolled to one side as the blacksuits hoisted me onto the operating table and I saw the warden stride into the room. He beamed at me – an expression I was getting used to – and walked over.
    ‘Good, good,’ he muttered. ‘No fights, no protests. You know this is the right thing.’
    He glanced up and I followed his line of sight to see three wheezers preparing equipment, the light reflected from the scalpels and bone saws dancing across the red walls. The tools all looked familiar, but I couldn’t think from where. For a fleeting moment I saw myself climbing, hammers and pins in the rock, but the image couldn’t anchor itself and soon fell away.
    ‘Run a test,’ the warden said to one of the wheezers. ‘Then start on his legs.’
    He looked at me once more and smiled, but the way his mouth twisted upwards made me think of hunger rather than affection. Then the view was blocked by a blacksuit, the hulking figure strapping my torso to the table and fixing my head into a brace. The guard checked over his shoulder, and from the click of shoes I knew he was watching the warden leave. He looked back at the last buckle, giving it a tug to make sure it was secure, then bent down and put his mouth to my ear.
    ‘I’m not going to lie to you,’ he said, his voice a sonic pulse that echoed around my brain. ‘The procedure hurts like hell. You’ll feel like your body is being pulled apart piece by piece, then sewn together again with hot needles. I guess that’s not too far from the truth. Butstick in there, ride out the pain. Because when you’re done you’ll be one of us.’
    Something swelled in my chest, a feeling I hadn’t experienced for a long time. I don’t know if there was a name for it, but I knew what it meant. I belonged . The blacksuit patted me gently on the shoulder, then cast a suspicious look at the wheezers as they moved in.
    ‘Ride it out,’ he said without looking back, then walked out of the door. I turned to watch the surgeons approach, a wall of filthy leather and ancient syringes. One slid a needle into my arm and the welcome numbness of the nectar swept through me. The other two lifted glinting weapons in their tattered gloves, the pitch of their wheezes even higher than usual. But I wasn’t scared. I welcomed them. Because they were here to give me what I