The church was draped in known silence, its vaulted ceiling echoing only the faint murmur of prayers and the wavering light of candles. The scent of incense clung to the air, thin but suffocating, mingling with the fragrance of lilies laid across the coffin.
Ellis lay cold and still beneath the polished wood, his body arranged neatly, lips pale, hands folded across his chest. To those gathered, he was gone—another victim claimed too soon.
But inside the coffin, the body twitched.
Darkness pressed against him, heavy and suffocating. His chest heaved suddenly, painfully, as if he had been submerged underwater and only now clawed back to the surface. A ragged gasp tore from his throat. His fingers moved against the fabric of his burial shroud.
Panic mauled at him as he realized—he could not move freely. The walls pressed close. The air was stale, thin. His heart thundered in his ears, faster and faster. He slammed his fists against the wood above him. Once. Twice. A muffled thud broke the somber quiet of the church.
The high priest's voice faltered mid-verse, and the mourners froze between sobs for a moment.
The junior priests standing at both ends of the coffin exchanged glances with the high priest, awkwardly trying to gauge the situation. Everyone was flustered, but no one dared to say they heard a sound from inside the coffin or move towards it to check. Thus, the high priest casually continued his prayers, acting like none was the matter.
"Let his soul be delivered from shadow, and guided into eternal light. May no darkness claim him, and may no curse bind him. Rest now, Ellis Montfort, child of the earth, and rise no more."
The high priest quickly concluded the prayer, conjoining his hands and slightly bowing towards the coffin, when thunder loud bangs escaped from the completely shut coffin lid, which were difficult to ignore.
Gasps rippled through the pews. Someone cried out.
"He's alive!"
Inside, Ellis's throat burned as he croaked, "Let me out—!"
The coffin rattled violently. Pallbearers and mourners rushed forward, hurrying to unseal the lid. With a groan of hinges, it creaked open.
†††
Fumbling with the cloth restraining his whole body, he finally found an opening and propped his head out as light returned to his eyes. He saw a huge wooden lid being lifted over him as he struggled to adjust to the sudden brightness, and saw, high above, beneath the stained glass window, the painted naked saints watching in silence as if mocking him, before many different unfamiliar faces blocked his view.
Frowning with disdain for the many unrecognizable faces, he grabbed the edge of the wooden coffin, slightly lifting his head.
"Man, for how long was trapped in here, my whole body hurts."
He spoke, but immediately caught that the voice coming out of his throat was even more unfamiliar than everything else. He placed his other hand on his neck, touching it to confirm it wasn't injured.
"What's wrong with my voice? Was I unconscious for too long? Maybe I shouted suddenly after waking up; that's why..."
He was speaking to himself when his eyes fell on the people crowding over his coffin. Each and every face seemed to be amused and shocked by him. Candles guttered as a draft swept through the church, and all around, whispers spread like fire.
"A God's miracle…"
"It must be Cerys, the Pure – Goddess of Love, Fertility, Mercy!"
"She must've had some mercy for our young lord! Oh, to be taken so young..."
The middle aged woman exclaimed, starting crying without fully finishing her words. In between, a man with a confused brow spoke, standing beside the middle aged woman.
"But how come he's only been talking nonsense; does he not know how to speak?"
"Thank you for your concern, uncle. I can speak very well, and I know a thousand words to curse you out, but I'm holding it in because we are in a church."
He leniently and gently responded to the man, but the man's head tilted with an even more bewildered expression as if gauging what just happened.
"Damn, I'm not even dead; what are you all doing? I should be in a hospital. Where even am I? I have never seen a church like this before."
"You're right! He forgot how to speak."
Another silence shrouded the church. Just now he could understand everything these people said, so why were they unable to understand his words? That's when he realized that the language these people were speaking was foreign to him (though he seemed to understand them), and he was speaking in Korean as usual.
"Is this correct?"
He tried to speak the foreign language, which he was suddenly fluent in, shocking himself and everyone. He learnt a new language just like that?
"Ellis.... Sniff—"
Every set of eyes moved to the broken voice filled with sorrow. It was a man seemingly in his forties (if he really had to guess) who spoke as he wiped his tears with a white handkerchief. The dark blue stood out strikingly behind the tears. Despite some wrinkles adoring his ashen face, he was still quite a looker. A tender warmth spread across the man's face, the kind of expression one could only glimpse when gazing at something truly precious. His steps carried him closer, and with a softness that spoke of unspoken affection, he reached out and caressed Ellis's face, his touch feather-light and reverent.
"Ellis..."
The man could only choke out the name 'Ellis' that had absolutely nothing to do with him. Heck, he hadn't even heard that name once in his life!
More tears dropped on the pale face of the man, and he watched in horror; his face would probably be more paler than this man for sure. They're all insane. That had to be it. There is no shortage of cults on the streets of Seoul. Though he was not hit by the thunder, he must've lost consciousness from the shock and landed in the hands of a cult!
Were they just about to sacrifice me?
There are cults that create their own religion from scratch that benefits them the most, and sacrifice people who are breathing just fine, making it seem like a funeral to avoid any suspicions. But their reactions were really off. They didn't match the situation he was thinking of. He was in a predicament.
"Nothing makes any sense."
Sighing, he quickly accepted his fate. This is life; you have to escape every situation to survive in this world. He'll just have to baffle his way out of here and see for himself where he was currently. The only one he can trust is himself, as always.
"Cerys, the Goddess of Love, Fertility...and Mercy!"
He recalled the words he had heard from the mouth of the person in the crowd near his coffin as he gathered the white cloth in his fists and stood up to cover his naked body with it. The words he had spoken gained everyone's attention. He was about to speak again when the person standing behind him coughed violently, making him jerk his head back and raise his guard.
"Ellis don't stand in coffin! You'll hurt yourself...Hic—"
The person behind him was dressed with the most suspicious clothes: a long white robe with wide cut sleeves, richly embroidered with golden thread at the cuffs. Beneath, he was wearing a fitted black garment that contrasted with the white outer layer. The golden vestment on his shoulders had some religious related patterns. Even his expression was suspicious; he was trying his best to appear calm, but his eyes were fixed on his body as if he wanted to sacrifice him right then and there!
What was so eye catching on his back anyway? He tried to stretch his neck backwards when he saw...
Quietly covering his behind too and tying knots with the cloth, he made sure he was fully covered before speaking again, ignoring the man who was crying and dragging him down into the coffin.
"I have been given a second life by Cerys, the Goddess of Love and Fertility!"
Gasps and gasps—everyone, people covered their own mouths with their own hands, shocked by his revelation. He preached with a hand in the air, appearing genuine and sincere.
"In my first life, I was nothing more than a sacrifice, offered up for the promise of a brighter future. But now, with this second chance the goddess has granted me, all she asks is that I live simply, truthfully, and embrace an honest life."
And truthfully I don't want to be here!
"A new saint is born!"
"Cerys, the Pure – Goddess of Love, Fertility, and Mercy – has blessed us with a saint once more! Centuries have passed since such a divine wonder last graced our world."
"Ellis what are you saying?? Just get down quietly..."
"Ah, what a miracle! Never did I think these weary, ancient eyes of mine would still be open to witness such a blessing."
Stuck in the same posture, one hand suspended in the air, he listened closely to the murmurs around him. They were buying it. Of course they were—cults were always the easiest to deceive. Still, waking up inside a sealed coffin wasn't something anyone saw every day. That alone was more than enough to serve as undeniable proof for his otherwise outrageous claims. He really couldn't be bothered for more, so he just wanted to end it now.
"I believe we should all bow our heads in reverence and offer prayers to the goddess for bestowing such a miracle upon us. Surely, everyone here agrees? Come—let us bow, let us pray!"
One by one, the masses sank to their knees at the foot of the stairs, a wave of devotion sweeping through them. Only the man who had ceased his weeping—and a few lingering behind him—remained upright. Yet the majority were already bowed low, their voices high, their souls lost in fervent prayer.
"Great Goddess Cerys, hear us! We bow before Your mercy. We rejoice in Your gift. Bless our land, bless our lives. Bless the saint who carries Your light!"
He wasn't about to waste this chance. Taking a step down the coffin with the help of the man with red eye corners, elegantly he descended the stair. But the instant his feet touched the last stair, he bolted—darting straight for the church doors!