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.
Scorching. Searing down the esophagus, into my lungs, until I heave it all back up.
Fuck! It just came out my nose.
Saliva and bile dribble out and congeal on my chin.
Too weak. Too heavy to wipe away.
My eyes strain in this blinding dark. Pitiful.
Wait, did it just get hotter?
Must leave. Now!
Move. I said MOVE!
My nails rake against the hard, leathery confines.
I writhe, desperate for escape: wriggling, jerking, kicking, scratching.
Then, finally…
Light!
Hurling myself forward, I shove aside each obstruction, fighting against the weight that would see me buried.
Don't leave!
Summoning a guttural heave, my second hand plows forth. Nails splitting as they drive my body forward, all so we can scrabble out this ashen mire.
This continues until the last barrier yields and my hand erupts into the 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? Why?!
Yanking my hands back causes my wrists to catch, preventing their further movement.
YOU DARE DENY ME!
Fine...
Then let the 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, the chalk‑dust grit grinds across my enamel.
My jaw grip falters then fails.
Ow. Fuck.
Chewing once more I try, but my skull rattles on blunt impact.
Just try to break me, I hiss, broth foaming at the corners of my mouth.
I forbid it.
I bite down then copper gushes.
Not again.
I nibble. I lick. I huff. I curse. I coax. I plead.
...
Nothing.
I turn to religion, but remember how bad it treated me, 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 negotiate with them. They don't even speak English.
Damn it.
Damn it all!
Outside, my hands flail, gesticulating for someone, anyone, to drag me out.
...
Nothing again.
My head slams against the protruding bone.
Thud.
Again.
Thunk.
My lips quiver. My vision blurs.
It's useless.
A sob gets stuck in my throat.
This smell, my pounding head, the rash burrowing into my back I… just can't anymore.
I'm done.
My eyes dim, my head 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 anymore.
Funny how all your worries melt away when you just stop thinking.
...
Closing my eyes, text etches itself behind my eyelids.
A poem?
Yes… It's one of mine, the memory surfaces.
'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 schedules construction at a dying man's funeral?
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.
What, is this digging?
Digging? For me… wait I'm saved.
Sorry for my rudeness earlier; I will even make your job easier just please get me out.
Reinvigorated, I cast my chin against the rubble and makes it pop.
Hehehe…
With my jaw hanging loose, my teeth hook around the bone.
Gripping, pulling with my spine as a leash and reining in my most rabid bite, I strain.
The hobbling tension in my muscles, only compounds as my body drags my shoulders up.
Finally, bursting through the mound of weight, I tumble out and spit out my bone.
"Here!"
"I'm here!"
My voice cracks.
The clouding fog of dark unveils and my vision gradually clears, welcomed by smoke and countless corpse piles.
In the distance—no, not that distant. Close. Approaching.
My ears, battered and bruised by the relentless hammering of my own blood, touch the ground and listen.
Are the steps hard, soft, rhythmic or light; these things can tell you a lot about a 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 this land.
Oh great ones, please have mercy on this lamb!
As my senses gradually grow in clarity, my ears discern... Screaming?