Buried Alive

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
a friend asked me to do a horror story for a halloween thing she had happening and i came up with this. i have no clue how her guest enjoyed it, but i think it has potential.

Submitted: April 26, 2016

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Submitted: April 26, 2016

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The odor of pine and musty damp earth filled my nostrils as I slowly awoke.  As my body regained consciousness, I found myself laying on a hard flat surface.  I tried to open my eyes and a painful, pulling sensation stopped me.  I lay completely still attempting to hear something, anything.  Only a deaf person could understand what I heard, it was silence, not the silence of a night in the country but a complete lack of sound.  Slowly I began to realize that I was in a small enclosed space, like a box and as this feeling grew so did a sensation that a great weight hovered just inches above my head.  I began to experience panic rising in me as I lay there trying to remember what was happening.

 

She was dressed nicely not like most of the women in the club.  Her long raven hair fell in waves down her back and her eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief.  She was beautiful but in an old fashion kind of way.

 

What club?  Who was this woman and why did she pop into my head when I tried to think about what brought me to this?  I reached up and felt my eyes; that is when I lost it.  I gulped air like a drowning man who breaks surface for a second.  My body was raked with shivers as I suddenly felt chilled to my bones.  Only inches above my head was a piece of rough wood, but that wasn't what had caused my panic attack.  My eyes had been sewn shut; I had felt thick metallic wire stitched around my eyelids.

 

I screamed and beat my fists on the board above my head.  My elbows struck the sides and my kicking feet hit the bottom.  I was in a large wooden box, a...no I mustn't think about it.  I forced myself to calm down, I had to use my head and think.  As I calmed down I tried to remember more.

 

I had approached her.  She wasn't stuck up and even seemed to like me.  We had a drink and talked some before I had to go to the men's room.

 

She couldn't have drugged me, could she?  Why would she have done this to me?  God how could she have sewn my eyes shut?  I felt the panic setting in again and tried to push it down.  I needed to think if I was to survive.

 

I was blind, but my eyes weren't my only sense.  I used my body to explore my surroundings.  I was in a wooden box; I kept repeating it was a box in the back of my mind.  The space was only slightly larger than me.  I couldn't hear anything outside of the box, but that didn't mean I was...no I won't even think that.  Why would somebody kidnap me and bury me.

 

NO! STOP THINKING THAT!  I screamed at myself as I felt the panic rising again.  I tried to force it down, but couldn't.  Did the air tasting funny?  My hands pounded on the top of the box.  My hands were on fire as I heard something crack.  I thought it was my hands.  My knuckles felt wet and I wished I could see how bad I had damaged them.

 

I remember seeing her before watching me.  I was on my way to work I think. Why was it so hard to remember things?  She had been across the street.  I noticed her because some kid on a bike almost ran her down.  I looked her direction a few minutes later and her eyes were locked on me.

 

What the hell?  I couldn't remember exactly when but I knew it was weeks before I meet her in the club.  Why was she watching me?  Who was she really?  How long was she planning to...no I won't think about it.  I breathe deeply and tried not to think about the air tasting funny.

 

I ran my fingers over the top of the box and felt impressions from my knuckles.  Then my little finger felt it a crack.  Could it be, did I really split the board?  Yes it was cracked and I was sure it was new.  My hands hurt as I made a fist, but I punched with all my strength at the crack.

 

Howling in pain I cradled my broken hand with my other bruised hand.  I felt something dribble on my face.  Oh my god it was dirt, I was buried alive.  I tried to fight it down; the panic, the utter terror, but I lost control and began flailing around in a panic.

 

I heard the top crack in that part of my mind that was not in a blind panic, but it meant little to the part of my brain that was in control.  Suddenly my fist punched through the top of the coffin.  Dirt poured into the coffin and I continue to punch at the lid even as I drowned in the dirt pouring in.

 

As I began to pass out I experienced a vision of fangs rushing towards me.  Something inside of me refused to give up.  I forced my arms up and pulled myself upward.  My mouth was filled with dirt as I scrambled upward through the packed earth.

 

I felt open air on my hand and a groped around for something to grab when a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled.  I broke out of the earth and felt cold dead lips on mine.

 


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