Breathe—
Breathe—
Breathe, goddammit!
This smell!
Pwoh...
I'm alive. What! How?
My head pounds, each throb beats in debilitating percussion.
Choking, my lungs swell with panicked gasps. Inhaling, gulping down this force-fed meal of turpentine and rot.
It scorches, searing down my esophagus, into my lungs, all until I heave it all back up.
Fuck! It just came out my nose.
Saliva and bile dribble forth congealing on my chin; Too weak. Too heavy to wipe away.
My eyes strain in the blinding dark. Pitiful.
Wait, did it just get hotter?
Move. I said MOVE!
My nails rake against the leathery confines. I writhe, desperate for escape: wriggling, jerking, kicking, scratching—then, finally… Light!
Hurling myself forward I reach out, shoving aside each and every obstruction fighting desperately against this weight that would see me crushed.
Don't leave!
Summoning a guttural heave, my left hand plows forth. Their nails split, driving my body onward to escape the ashen mire.
Crawling like a dead fish, I wade through the filth, the muck, blinded by the mud but, eventually, my hand erupts into the consecrated air beyond.
HAHAHA! Freedom!
It smells great, just one last effort until—
Thud!
White-hot pain flares across my crumpled nose. Crippling. Cartilage screams at something hard, smooth and unyielding…
Bone!?
Yanking my hands back causes my wrists to catch.
YOU DARE DENY ME!
Fine...
Let my mouth do what the hands cannot. Ivory over flesh. Desperation hath no dignity nor shame and nor do I.
My jaw clamps down on bone in merciless vise, chalk‑dust grit grinds across my enamel.
It works, then falters then fails.
Ow. Fuck.
Gripping once more, I chew, my skull rattling against the blunt impact against itself.
Just try to break me. I hiss, froth foaming at the corners of my mouth.
I forbid it.
I bite down, then copper gushes.
Again.
I nibble. I lick. I huff. I curse. I coax. I plead.
Nothing.
I pray to god but then remember, so, I negotiate with the shadow demons instead.
A dry laugh rattles out of my skull, breaking into a wheezing, wet, cough-filled phlegm.
Insanity!
How could I think I could even tempt them. They don't even speak English.
Damn it.
Damn it all!
From beyond, my hands flail, for someone, anyone, to just drag me out. Please!
...
My head slams against the protruding bone.
Thud.
Again.
Thunk.
My lips quiver. My vision blurs.
It's useless.
A sob sticks to the back of my throat.
This smell, the pounding of my skull, the rash burrowing into my back. I… I-uh just can't anymore.
I'm done.
My eyes dim, everything grows lighter.
Entranced by my abyss, I stare. In it, comfort and familiarity settle.
Minutes pass. Hours pass. Well… that's what it feels like.
Time flows, or maybe not, I don't really care no more.
Funny how all your worries melt away when you just, stop, thinking.
Squeezing my eyes further, text etches itself behind my eyelids.
A poem?
Yes… one of mine.
'I raised their hearts, yet here I'm chained, Their freedom bought, my soul profaned. I carved their rights with blood and breath, And earned no gift but living death.'
Pound. Pu‑Pound. Pound. Pu‑Pound.
Who scheduled their construction at my burial? I'll kill ya.
Picking up a nearby thing, I throw it vaguely in the direction of the sound.
Bouncing off, it lands with a clank.
Pound. Pu‑Pound. Pound. Pu‑Pound.
This again. What is it! Digging?
Digging? For me?
…
Wait am I saved? I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier; please. I will even make your job that much easier, call it my payment, just please get me out.
I cast my chin against the rubble and make it pop.
Hehehe…
My jaw hangs loose, teeth hooking around the bone. Gripping, pulling with my spinal leash, I rein in my most rabid bite.
Woof. Woof.
The tension taut in my muscle fibers, weave a pained expression on my rugged face; compounding
as my body drags at my neck and shoulders up, carrying their precious bone.
"Here!"
"I'm here!"
My voice cracks, bursting through the mound of weight, I tumble down and out, falling on my boney butt.
Ouch.
The unveiling darkness greets me with its oppressive maw. Wiping my eyes open, I see the clouding fog, smoke and countless piles and bodies from the dead.
In the distance—no, not that distant. Close and Approaching.
My ears, battered and bruised by the relentless hammering of blood, listens against the ground.
Are the steps hard, soft, rhythmic or light; these things say lots about the person.
Tsk, why so quiet?
As if answering my query, my ears suddenly pop with a shattering chime, rending my silence asunder.
Through the ringing chaos, barely discernible voices occupy the nearby vicinity.
Oh great ones, please have mercy on this lamb! Lead them to where the grass is green and food is abundant.
As my senses grow in clarity, my ears discern sounds of a strange nature... Screaming?