Inside the mind of a fantasy writer

Posts tagged “death

Dear, Sweet Death: Quote from Forever Black (Nightwalkers #2)

 

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Forever Black: The Ledge


Bury Me

Picture prompt

Waking up, I see nothingness ahead.  With my sharp sense, I can feel my confinement. There is a hard surface at my back and a thick splintered surface lies inches from my nose.  Though the exposed nails don’t touch me, I can feel their sharpness.  Dull, yet stinging.

The steak driven into my flesh hasn’t ended me, though I wished it had.  Splinters were left in it’s wake, embedded so deep that even if I live, they’ll still remain.  Sharp, crisp and forever reminders of my sins.

Gritting my teeth, an incisor pierces my skin. The taste of my thick blood coats my tongue.  Trails of crimson—a slow tear from my lips that shows what words cannot.  Tasting this living flesh reminds me it’s not over.  I’m not over.

Frantically, I claw as dirt is thrown upon my cage. My fingers bleed as splinters embed under my nails.  I’m oblivious to the pain, but I swear I can feel the weight of the dirt.  Heavy—stifling. It crushes my chest, forcing the breath from my lungs.  The air I so desperately need escapes from my nostrils in quick huffs.

The darkness hides my exit, the hanging stench of moldy death enveloping me like a shroud.  Screaming doesn’t help here, but I beg and shout until my throat’s dry.  I’m cloaked in sweat.  Cold, shivering and damp.  Again I taste blood.  Though it’s diluted, it’s still there.  I’m still here.  Here…

Dark.  Damp.  Confining.

Gasping, I begin to hyperventilate.  A mighty scream escapes my lips, the sound muffled by the rotting wood that is my prison.  The tick of passing seconds resound with the heavy pounding in my head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

With each tone the numbers get faster, my head dizzier.  The world spins and I feel the end. I can’t breathe.  I gasp, my mouth open wide.  Death has come to devour me-to choke me until all that remains is an empty shell.

I am…

Then comes a tap, followed by the splintering of wood and shuffling of dirt.  Moon light covers me, a rush of crisp night air blowing away the aging darkness that suffocated me.  And there he was.  His thick frame cradled by the faint light.  A dark savior that has taken pity on this sinner.

In a deep voice, words spill from his grinning lips, “You’re alive.”

I choke out the words, “I’m…still…here.”