People think that prison is the worst punishment somebody can deserve, but that's completely wrong. There is something worse than prison. Something even worse than hell,under hell.
The pitter-patter of freezing rain that poured down from dark grey clouds that cover the night time sky flooded my senses; the sound becoming deafening besides my own rigid breath, panting for air that my lungs so desperately clawed for through my quick rising and falling chest. But the air that got into my lungs was heavy, seeming almost as thick as paste with that mocking smell of fresh air that I feared I wouldn't see again. With legs like lead, my muscles strained to keep running as my sore muscles that were on fire begged my mind to stop and rest. 'Keep running,' my mind repeated over and over as my clothes clung to my body, trying to stop me like hands dragging me. I didn't care that I was soaking wet nor the fact that I would soon collapse, but all I cared about was getting away from them.
I didn't mean to kill him, after all I was only eleven. But I didn't regret it either. I felt empowered at that moment, even unstoppable as I held that white candlestick stained crimson and deformed from the blunt use. But I didn't dare look back on that, all I had to do right now was run. My eyes focused on the black asphalt rushing by under my feet as I ran down the dampened road with puddles all around. Soon my breathing had made the rain sound almost silent as my throat began to burn like hot coals, but that didn't stop me despite my vision of the road becoming blurry like that of an old tv.
'Please don't let me be caught…. Think!' I tried to compromise with my brain, and only one place came to mind; home. Maybe if I could just reach home to my mother, we both could run off and have that same happy family before all of this. But it was too late for that as my feet came to a halt, enough to merely send me face first into the ground. But the sight that awaited me made my body turn to stone as I saw red and blue flashing lights with a siren screaming into the night.
I turned on the balls of my heals, my barefoot feet burning and leaving bloody footsteps where I ran or stood. But I quickly stopped once my face was an inch away from black steel covering what I assumed to be was a large human. The suit covering the person completely seemed to be alive itself as a large hand shoved me to the ground, "you stopped running, maggot." The blacksuit said in a low hiss, but with an underlying chuckle to his words, silver eyes looking at me as if this was some sort of game.
I tried to stand up, but my body wouldn't budge even an inch as my muscles only twitched. Soon enough, I was circled by blacksuits, trapping me in a cage of them. 'there must be at least twenty of these hulk's on steroids in armor...' I told myself, knowing I couldn't get out as they circled me like vultures would their prey, as if waiting for me to give up or die. My sky blue irises looked around frantically, hoping to find a way out of this. But the only thing my eyes rested upon as if they were hooked on the figure, was my mother.
She was always very frail, looking like she could be broken easily and that's why I took care of her. She wasn't old, but just very delicate more than any flower I have ever found. But right now, she was looking at me and all other things feel mute and numb to her gaze. Brown honey eyes looked at me no longer with love or joy, but disappointment and guilt; knowing well that I once was the son she loved, but now was a reminder of a son she could never have. I wish I could tell her why I did it, why I murdered my step-father unaware she was watching. I did it not for my own gain, being aware of what would happen, but I did it to protect her.
"Mama!" I cried out to her, my words echoing through the rain as she stood on the sidewalk. Her eyes teared up, until she was fully sobbing but never leaving my sight, her black hair a mess and clinging to her head from the rain as she shivered.
"Mama! I'm sorry! I did what I thought was best!' I shouted into the night again, only to see her turn and rush back inside our- her home, and leave me there alone, the seconds seemed like days in that instant. My mind raked for some sort of way to get free from the two blacksuits that pinned me to the ground, my face attempting to push into the asphalt that smelled of gasoline and rain, but my eyes never leaving that door. At first I had known what I had done and I was headed to prison until almost like a light switch, I shouted "I'm innocent! I didn't do anything!"
I repeated those words pleadingly, wanting more than anything to erase everything I had done. But I was trapped now between the road and two large people, it was inescapable. If there had been any little air in my lungs, it was crushed out as it felt like my weight was trying to condense into a ball from the two people who felt like they weighed a ton. My eyes filled with fear and my body began to shake, until I heard the click of a gun as a bullet was loaded by a trigger happy blacksuit. Limbs went dead still, unable to move my head but knowing that the gun was pointed at me, along with a bullet with my name on it.
I felt alone and abandoned, unable to even tell if I greeted or was frightened of death. But I was, only to get an explosion of pain in the back of my head as the metal blunt end of the shotgun bashed onto the side of my head. "See you in-" But my all the sounds just turned to the sound of white static and my vision turned black, numbing me and my mind into the spiraling darkness that consumed me.
My name is Carl Donovan, and this is how I ended up in furnace.
"Carl? What are you doing up at such an hour-" My mother's words fell silent as I heard the clash of a white porcelain plate onto the ground, her calm voice turning into a shriek.
"I got rid of him momma…" I mumbled under my heaving breath, holding the white candle in my hand, the end flattened and stained in crimson that pooled onto the sand colored carpet, making a sponge like sound when stepped on by my bare feet. "I'm sorry momma, I just didn't want him to hurt you any more…" I knew what my step-father did, he beat her everytime she did something no matter if good or bad; and it made my blood boil.
Despite my frown and shaking hands that realized what I had done, I felt powerful like I couldn't be stopped. But it was terrible when I looked at my mother, her eyes not seeing her son but a monster in my place.
But worst of all, she was right. I had turned into a monster, nothing good left from that child who made all A's in school or came home to do every chore and pretend I didn't hear my mother weeping in the next room followed by the evil laugh of that man.
I had murdered my own step-father, but I had killed more than that. I had killed my mother's heart and hopes in me; her everything.
You get used to it for a while; blacksuits, killing, labor, and what ever creatures hell spit out. But nothing quite like your first night there in Furnace, the mind splitting terrors that wait for you. That's what I got thrown into.
"Wake up maggot," A low bitterly hiss came from that same voice as before and pain erupted from my nose as the gun hit me again. I sat up quickly, memories of the previous events crashing down on me like sandbags. But once I had opened my eyes, I saw a blacksuit standing in the opposite corner of the confining space, not because they were concerned, but rather because they didn't like me and I knew that well. Red light coated everything despite it being a dim, as it came from a lightbulb that just seemed to be screwed into the metal roof of the small room.
After another moment, I realized that all the sides were made of metal that had been bolted together, some panels bents while some were splattered with dried crimson stuck onto them with scratch marks like something had tried to get out. The small space smelled of rotting fish and the metal under my hands and legs made me shiver as a chill went up my spine. Without even a syllable leaving my open mouth, I knew where I was as I heard the screech of metal gears colliding. But the light that went out, devouring the whole room in darkness along with everything inside. The only thing keeping me as far away from the blacksuit was the moving outline that owned those silver glowing eyes.
Within a few moments, the doors opened up with an ear breaking squeal of resistant metal being pried opened, and the ground beneath my feet shaking almost sending me falling again. My feet were shoved out from under me as I was pushed out of the elevator and onto a smooth dark red stone floor, and before I could turn to see the elevator, it was already gone.
I walked forward, my bare feet dragging across the smooth cool rock, too tired to even attempt to walk or stand properly as I stumbled into a line along with about four other children of which I didn't even look at. My eyes struggled to stay open until something was pushed to my chest that I gripped onto, the fabric feeling almost like paper. I opened one of my eyes only to have both soon snap open at what I held in my hand; a prison uniform.
'Did you expect any different? After all, you are a criminal.' I tried to deny that fact as I quickly got into my uniform, the grey and black thick strips seeming as if they have faded, but the words sew in black thread onto the clothing to rest just below my right shoulder had sent this crashing down on me like I was waking up.
'Furnace Prisoner 001837, Carl Donovan'
'I killed a man, killed! But it didn't feel regretful, but good...' my own thoughts shocked me, making me fear almost what I could do to somebody else; what I would do to somebody down here. I walked in a steady pace despite my wobbly legs that shook like jelly inside my jumpsuit that was thin and almost like sandpaper but that word I'll use for the shoes they gave. The walls and roof were much like the floor; deep red stone, some smoothed some jagged, but ll a reminder of where I was.
The crowd of people all wearing the same clothing as me, some looking more worn, while some had stains of blood in them and some with tattered holes torn through the thin rough fabric, all reading their prison number and their name. I would have continued to look at the swarm of people like flies around a trash can if it weren't for the ear piercing sound of a gun being shot, making the crowd of people grow still and quiet along with me.
"Welcome you fresh meat!" A loud booing voice spoke over the silence, it not needing to as it echoed off the walls of the courtyard. "Seems like we got some new food for the dogs." With a dark chuckle under the man's breath that made my blood run cold like ice, making my body go numb. I tried to look the man in the eyes but my gaze and his seemed to act like two south magnets, just able to see it out of the corner of my eye then gone the next second.
"Carl Donovan!" The man shouted and my bones seemed to turn to dust. I didn't move from my spot but I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as if trying to catch my skin on fire, or crawl like bugs that I was unable to scratch or flick off my skin. But once I had finally turned my head to stare directly back at the man, which was my first mistake.
"I'll say once more, Carl Donovan. Get up here so I can tell you your cell and cellmate, before I come down there and make up spend a month in the hole." Everybody in the crowd seemed to grimace at that word, so I made my way through the crowd of people, not able to push myself through all the people. But I somehow made my way out to hear a snicker from the man, and noticed on his tag on what looked like to be a black professional suit, black shoes and a red tie, a pin that read what title he went by.
'The Warden'
Eyes of empty vast space looked at me. "Well , you will be in cell F11, sixth floor, and cell mates with-" He stopped then a wide smirk came across his face, a pale finger the color of almost a cloud extended to point at somebody in the crowd. "With Jackie Smith." His smirk grew as the people seemed to move out of the way even before the person named Jackie got to them, terrified of him. I felt fear form into a lump in my throat almost making me choke on my own breath. The person got to the front of the crowd after taking his time, and the guy of a tall and well built statue nearly made me wish I had died up on the surface.
He simply looked at me once, then a scowl forming as green eyes narrowed at me, lines showing on his face mostly around his mouth where he continued to scowl at me without saying a single word as he turned on the balls of his heals, and took off through the court without saying anything. I followed him, hoping he was leading me to the cell we would have to share, only to see him sprint up the flights of metal stairs, each step creaking as he rushed up them and creaked louder as I attempted desperately to keep up with him. I stumbled over my own feet multiple times, my face colliding with the metal steps.
He quickened his pace, and got to the cell long before I did, my paned and heaving form finally able to find him waiting bitterly; tapping his foot with a small rhythm of clicks as his foot met the stone floor and he opened up the door to the cell, and I walked inside only to stop no more than five steps inside as not to hit myself against the other rough red stone wall seeming like somebody, or some people had carved this room out. My eyes scanned the small place that I would be living in; and my feeling of disappointment only deepened at what I saw.
I don't know what I was expecting but I knew that this is as much as somebody like me deserved, maybe even more than I deserved but I wasn't going to admit that due to my stupid pride in the way. My sky blue eyes rested upon seeing a metal frame of some sort resting on the left wall, it barely lit from the lights in the hallway that gave everything a red tint, as if it wasn't enough red.
"Good thing I like red…" I muttered with a small laugh and looked around again seeing the metal toilet in the right back corner of the cell, my humorous aura suddenly going back to a sense of disgust.
"Just wait until you're cover from head-ta'-toe in blood, then you'll think red isn't such-a pretty color." The deep voice from Jackie said with a small amount of humor in it as that made me laugh again as well. I went over to the metal frame, my feet moving across cold stone but oddly smooth like the floors outside the cells. The closer I got the more the frame began to show itself, and I soon realized that it was a bunk bed that held two beds, which would of been better cardboard than beds.
I rested my hand on the rough texture of the freezing cold metal that had began to grown large areas of rust making it creak with any movement, making my eyes close for a moment annoyed at the sound as I removed my hand and laid down on the bottom bed. "Good, seems you know that the top bed is mine," Jackie commented, climbing onto the top bunk, his accent not as thick at that moment; but sometimes it could get to the point where I couldn't understand a single word.
"I take it as you don't like people touching your stuff." I remarked with a small snicker but my happiness was shortly replaced with that same feeling of abandonment that I had gotten from before I came here.
Jackie picked up on this and shifted then leaned over the rusted railing, making a few creaking noises to look at me and spoke once again, "You look like somethin' is troublin' you Donovan."
I looked at him and responded much more bitterly than I had meant to, "Yea? Nice observation Jackie." Only resulting in a mixture of a scowl and a frown. "Sorry, I just-"
"All of us here have done somethin' none of us want to remember, or maybe you did nothin' at all, but none the less; that all happened up there, but now you're stuck down here. It's best you forget what ever happened."
