I’ve had a monopoly in my industry for the last two years. I had to hire a
team of lawyers to protect me, so the government couldn’t come in and
confiscate my property. Back when I was just a crematorium operator, I gave
my administrator the task of finding me a new furnace. When the machine came
in, I assumed she had bought something without going through me first, but
it wasn’t long before I learned that she had had nothing to do with it.
She’s trustworthy, but as lazy as I am, so she hadn’t even gotten around to
starting her research. We never did figure out where the new furnace came
from, and that’s kind of a big deal. Not only is it weird—and worrisome that
someone had the ability to charge my company credit card without
authorization—but it also appears to be unique. They call it the Phornax,
which after I used it, I realized was a combination of the Latin word for
furnace, fornax and phoenix. You see, it brings people back to life. It
doesn’t matter if they’ve already been cremated, or if they’ve been dead for
a long time. Any dead person I place in here will come out brand new in a
few hours. There doesn’t even appear to be any side effects, like an
insatiable hunger for human brains, or neurological issues. In fact, they
usually return healthier than they were when they died. It cures them of all
maladies and other medical conditions. The only caveat is that I do need all
of the remains. I’ve tried to bring back someone with only a portion of
their ashes, because part of it was spread into the ocean. It did not turn
out right. I’ve seen a lot of disgusting things in this business, but I
retched the most I ever had the day I opened that door, and found a horrific
pile of boney goo of a man with incomplete cremains. Since then, I’ve been
adamant about doing my due diligence.
I do charge for my services, but even though no one else can do what I do, I
think I keep my prices fair, and I base them off of tax brackets. The rich
pay handsomely, and that supplements the loss of income from my discounted
rates, and my pro bono work. I work hard at this, and it’s not easy. I only
take Saturdays off to rest. I shouldn’t even be in the office right now, but
my administrator is on vacation, and there are a few records I have to
verify. As I’m standing at her desk, trying to figure out her filing system,
a man walks in. The door was supposed to be locked, so I’m not sure what
happened there. Somehow I know that this is him. This is the man responsible
for my furnace gift. I don’t know if he just works for a secret cabal, or if
he’s straight up the devil, but I can tell that he’s involved. He confirms
as much when he recites the full serial number of the Phornax, which he
wouldn’t have known if he was just some rando off the street. I ask him why
he did this, and he claims that this was all a test run. He and his people
needed a way to assess whether my species was ready for the privilege of
immortality. This was a great way to do that, because the process is
irreproducible, so I’ve not been able to get around to helping all of the
over hundred billion people who have died in history. He tells me he doesn’t
like the results, and that he’s taking the furnace back. I beg him not to,
that we deserve a second chance, but he refuses. I’m not a violent man, but
I feel compelled to try to stop him physically. In the struggle, I somehow
end up inside the Phornax. “Fine,” he says, before switching it on. I scream
in pain as the fire overwhelms me. I break myself out hours later. I had
always wondered what would happen if you put a living organism in here. It
appears to give people superstrength. What else, though?
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