Being in Furnace Has Its Perks

My head felt groggy like I was hungover. For a moment I thought I was until the smell hit me; rotting flesh, blood and vomit mixed with a weak anticeptic created an awful cocktail for my nose. Groaning, I opened my eyes and tried to sit up.

Beds on rickety frames lined the walls of the cramped room each with a rusted tray of surgical instruments sitting beside it. The tools looked they had to be 15 years old at least and not washed once. Four of the stained mattresses were occupied and I prayed they were alive.

This had to be a dream, but I knew it wasnt. I couldnt dream up a smell that pungent, a scene this gory. Where am I? Who brought me here? What's gonna happen to me?

I shuddered as scenarios flashed through my head and examined myself to try to take my mind off the horrific images playing themselves out in my mind.
I had thick, blood stained bandages around my torso and it hurt to breathe properly so I decided to stick to shallow breaths. The needle sticking out of my arm was just as dirty and rusty as the rest of the equipment.

Disgusted, I ripped it from my arm. The need to get the hell out of this damn room overwhelmed me. With shaky arms, I pulled myself to the edge of the bed and slowly worked my legs over the edge. The cold tiles felt slimy and gritty under my bare feet. My body swayed and the world tilted for a few minutes before I was able to right myself. I took uneven, slow steps toward the only door in the room, my brain and limbs were not properly connected and the surge of panic racking my brain in raging waves was making my frustrated and nauseous.

'I need to find out where I am...' I thought just before I felt a pinch in my arm and my vision went dark.

My head pounded as my consciousness resurfaced. The scratchiness of the fabric beneath me and the feel of a needle in my arm determined where I was. Whoever drugged me had taped down the IV in my arm.

"Like a piece of tape is gonna stop me." I scoffed and ripped the contaminated metal from my vein.

I stood once again, this time a little quicker on my feet. My little nap seemed to give my body some time to reorient itself and I made it all the way to the door before some one grabbed my arm and was once again drugged to sleep before I could see my assailant.

My head felt worse this time; like my head had become very friendly with the grimy floor.

"You did it to yourself, Chris Sanchez." a voice stated disapprovingly.

My eyes snapped open and met with the dark figure that was at my house that night.

"You!" I screamed and bolted upright, immediatly regretting it when my brain started to feel like it was smacking against my skull. Groaning, I squeezed my eyes shut and laid back down.

"You're going to wake the other patients if you keep making so much noise." My attacker and kidnapper scolded.

"what do you want with me?" I hissed through clentched teeth.

"You are guilty of murder, Chris Sanchez."

"Yeah? Says who? You dont have any proof" I retorted, sitting up slowly, willing the throbbing in my head to go away and leaning my head against the wall.

"I dont need proof."

"what do you mean you dont need proof?" I scoffed, opening my eyes.

but the man was gone.

"what the hell?" I muttered.

'surely he can't convict me on pure word of mouth.' I thought, looking around the room but it was empty except for the bodies still lying motionless in their beds, their stained bed sheets pulled over them to the neck.

How could they convict me with a hospital room like this? How does this damned place even exist? Where the hell were the authorities to shut this horrible place down? They were gonna give me a fair trial, right? They had to; it was the law. I was underage but a lot of things had changed since the Summer of Slaughter. No judge would want to hear my end of the story. They'd just look at me in disgust; their minds already convinced I was a murderer.

I laid back and looked up at the grimy ceiling. I needed rest if I was going to get outta here. My head was still pounding, my stomach felt like it had been put through a wood chipper and I was pretty sure I had rust and whatever else poisoning my veins with every pump of blood that pounded in my ears. It was gonna be a long night and I had a lot to think about.

END