Lisa Steeg was lying inside a coffin.

She was not dead. Quite the contrary, she was very much alive. Although she had no way to really verify it, she felt like she had been inside the coffin for hours. There was no light, and she couldn’t move around very much. Not enough to check to see what time it was, what little good it would do. She seemed to think she’d feel a little better knowing what time it was, although she might have been in the coffin for days.

Her body ached and she was having a lot of trouble breathing. She was beyond exhausted. She was breathing in short, quick little gasps that made her whole body tremor. The place was moving around her, and it smelled like shit.

*  *  *

When she’d first awakened to the fact that she was trapped in some kind of box, she had panicked. The first order of business had been to freak out and claw at the top of the darkness until her nails had ripped off and her fingers bled, or she had to think they were. They hurt like hell and were pretty useless after that. She’d gotten bad splinters in her skin and under what was left of her nails, and those still stung as well, but that was really the least of her problems at this point.

After that initial waste of air and energy, she’d tried to move around to see if there was anything she was missing, like a window beneath her, or a latch of some kind that would provide sweet release. But there had been nothing. The only thing she had been able to do was roll over, and that had been awkward and frustrating when it was all for nothing.

She’d screamed and yelled for several minutes until her throat hurt and she couldn’t make any useful sounds. And she was fully aware, even through her panic, that every scream used up what little air she had left.

She had no idea how long she’d been in this fucking box before she’d awoken. Minutes? Hours? A day or longer? Holy shit, she might be dead in a few minutes.

After those first few horrible minutes, she tried to reach into her pocket where she usually kept her cell phone. It wasn’t there, but she had almost expected that. The only thing in her pocket had been a pack of gum, which enraged her so much when she pulled it out of her pocket that she had tossed it down near her feet, where she would never be able to reach it. What little good it would have done.

She’d started crying then, knowing that her sobs might be worse than her screams in the realm of air consumption.

From her initial attack on the box she knew she was weighted down in every direction. The box was made of damp, rotting wood that peeled off when she clawed at it, but it seemed very thick and would take forever to peel through. At that point though, she had seen no other options. So she began to fight for her freedom, grasping at the little strands of wood that she’d clawed off. The process made her hands scream in pain and she felt drops of moisture hitting her stomach and chest. She assumed these were drops of blood, but the wood was so damp it could have been build-ups of water.

As she tried to rip her way out, she thought of several things. What the hell was above her? Was this really a coffin, or just some box? Was she actually buried alive, under pounds and pounds of dirt? Or was she squished up against a wall, or pinched in between something, with another box on top? She couldn’t hear anything, and all she could smell was wet wood. Probing with her finger, she could feel a divot forming in the wood and as much as it hurt, she tried to push her finger through and open up a hole.

There was a creaking.

Something shifted.

She’d pushed her finger through, and felt moisture, and something squishy. Pulling her finger back inside, she felt something fall into the box through the hole and hit her on the stomach. She grabbed for it and it crumbled in her hands. She tried to smell it, taste it even, but it was too far away.

There was another creaking, louder than before and all around her. Without being sure, she was sure it was dirt. She was buried alive and had just rendered her only means of safety a little bit less safe. She closed her eyes very tightly and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her breathing was shallow and she was doing her best to just not breathe at all.

“Oh god,” she whispered into the darkness. Her voice was dull and lifeless. There was no echo or reverberation of it; it just died as soon as it came out.

It was at this point that she asked herself a few pertinent questions. Namely, ‘Why am I buried alive?’ and ‘Who the hell would do this to me?’

She couldn’t answer either of those questions. And even if she really thought it would help, her brain wasn’t functioning quite right at the moment. She was exhausted from her panic attack, short of air and terrified to death. She was not claustrophobic by nature. She’d always thought, ‘I spent nine months in a womb, I think I can handle an elevator or something.’ Of course, being in a box only slightly bigger than her kind of put that dramatic analogy into perspective.

Ok, she thought, we have to think clearly, or as clear as possible. I doubt this is an accident, so why is someone trying to kill us?

The last thing Lisa could remember was…too fuzzy to come clearly. Had she been drugged?

Ok then, analyze the situation and don’t skimp on the details.

She was and had been trapped in a box, buried in the dirt for an uncertain amount of time. The box was wood and very damp, which meant that she had been there long enough for the wood to absorb a lot of moisture from the dirt, or the box had been wet first. Why would it have been wet? Her clothes were reasonably dry, and from what she could tell, she was wearing her zip up kangaroo hoodie and a pair of shorts. Her phone was gone, which indicated that this was indeed, some kind of attack and she was being murdered. She felt herself over. Her purse was nowhere she could reach, if it was there at all, and her keys had also been taken from her pocket.

What else?

She was feeling the need to pee coming on, if that meant anything. Maybe it meant that it had been a long while before she had been able to go, and therefore it had been approximately half a day or so since then; or it could mean she was so scared she was going to piss herself. Either way it brought up the question of what was she going to do when she had to shit?

She sobbed at the thought.

Come on! Keep thinking! Even if we don’t get out of here I want to know why the hell we’re here in the first place!

“Ok,” she whispered into the dark, trying to compose herself again.

What’s next? You try your damndest to remember you bitch!

She closed her eyes, which didn’t make a bit of difference, and tried to think back. “Put things together Lisa,” she whispered, think about what you’re wearing. Shorts. It’s too cold to be wandering around in shorts during the night, so maybe you were going somewhere? Think about WHO you are, if WHERE you were won’t come. If nothing else it’ll occupy your time until you die.

She fought another sob.

She was Lisa Steeg, a 19-year-old college student at the University of Victoria. She lived in a crappy little downtown apartment in the View Towers building, colorfully called ‘Suicide Towers’ by the locals, and she managed to survive there because her boyfriend Scott paid the rent. He worked at a gas station as a mechanic. He was probably freaking out right now. She was an honor student getting a degree in English.

Any enemies? Say, anyone who might want to suffocate you in a small box buried in dirt?

She shook her head lightly, feeling the onset of what could be a migraine. Enemies, sure, who doesn’t, but enemies that would try to kill her? No. Not in Victoria. She started shaking. She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and if she was going to die anyway, she may as well release those tears.

Oh God, she thought, not praying to God, just expressing her displeasure at this turn of events, this can’t really be happening. I must be dreaming or something. This is a nightmare, and in a few minutes I’m going to wake up in bed, screaming my head off no doubt, but still in bed. I know it. C’mon Scott, wake me up! Please, God, wake me up!

Something struck her in the stomach. Something had fallen through the hole again. And it was moving. She felt her whole body tremble with a gag.

Oh fuck. What the hell is that?

Whatever it was, it was moving around. Slithering was the word that came to her mind. Slithering and flopping around, trying to right itself?

She gagged again, and became desperate not to throw up inside this thing. It was going to be bad enough when she pissed herself in a few minutes but she would not barf all over herself with no means to escape. She wanted to take a deep, relaxing breath, but fought the urge to do so. Her chest was seizing up and she wanted to scream again and thrash about the box trying to bash her way out. The wriggling thing was moving now, not just squirming, but moving somewhere, up her torso slowly, or was that just her imagination.

She shuddered.

She could feel the slimy movement on her belly, which was exposed to the navel because the hoodie was too small for her. She swiped at the thing with her hand and knocked it away. That was pretty much all the movement she was capable of in this enclosed area.

The movement had stopped but the creepy feeling was still there, and she had to wipe her hand over as much of her as she could to be sure it was gone. Her stomach as slimy with goo.

So, maybe it was a worm, who fucking cares? What’s next? Spiders? Ants?

She shivered again, hunching her shoulders up with a chill.

Whatever it was, it was now crawling around on the bottom of the coffin. And that was what she was certain she was in now, a coffin. Not a box pinched between whatever, with another box on top. She was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.

She was in a fucking coffin.

“A fucking coffin!” she screamed finally. The release felt a little bit nice, but it was hard to enjoy, given the circumstances. She suddenly elbowed the side of the coffin trying to smash her way out. She heard a creak as the wet boards moved. She kicked at the top of the box, ignoring the pain that ran through her foot and leg, and kicked it with the other foot. Dirt fell in through the hole she’d made, and god only knew what it was bringing inside with it.

She hit the side with the side of her fist, smashing at it as hard as she could, but that only knocked more and more dirt inside.

“Get me the fuck out of here!” she screamed, hurting her throat on the dry air. Her scream died away quickly and near the end it was raspy and grinding on her vocal cords. She was thirsty, and hungry. And she was going to piss herself very soon.

*  *  *

She cried for a long time. Why the hell did she have to have a fancy gold wristwatch that didn’t work in the dark? Wasn’t that just convenient? Her sobbing rattled her whole body and a short time after her crying fit started, she did, indeed, piss herself. She had no choice. Her bladder was going to burst one way or the other and she couldn’t deal with the pain and uncomfortable-ness any more, so she let it go. The warmth sucked. She was already so hot she was sweating into her eyes, now she was sticky and it smelled really bad. She was also aware that this new turn of events would attract more creepy crawlies and such. But there was nothing she could do.

Ok, God, she thought, actually to God this time, what do I have to do to get out of here? Are you punishing me? Teaching me some lesson about the value of life? Was I too drunk for your liking and you need to show me the error of my ways? What the fuck is it? ‘Cause it’s just not coming to me here, ok? I don’t know what to do.

More dirt had funneled its way into the coffin, and she felt more squirmy wormies around her now. Unless they were snakes, but she doubted that. If there were spiders or other little buggers inside she wasn’t aware of it, nor did she especially want to be aware of it. It would make it all worse. Ignorance was bliss.

C’mon man, I’ll do anything ok? I’ll stop drinking…I’ll…I’ll…she sobbed, I don’t know what you want me to do.

She didn’t really believe in God anyway, not per se. She had always been raised Agnostic, and while she did believe that something had created the universe, she didn’t know what it was.

This is bullshit! Who the fuck would do this to me?

Scott… Why wasn’t Scott here? She was with him last she could remember, but she couldn’t picture where they were. She seemed certain that drinking was involved. She certainly wasn’t drunk now, and she didn’t feel hung over, at least not that she could tell. She felt ill but imagined that was a product of the situation. Had she been drugged, or passed out?

Scott where the hell are you?

*  *  *

After another uncertain amount of time, Lisa shit herself.

I can’t do this anymore. I’m gonna die in here and I’ll never know why. Maybe Scott did this. Ha.

She’d started hearing noises a short time ago, but she couldn’t even guess what they were. She wasn’t moving, but the coffin was creaking and the wood had started dripping more. All the moisture brought her to the conclusion that her coffin was not only under a mound of dirt, but it was under water as well. Even if she managed to get out of the godforsaken box, she would either suffocate in the dirt, or drown in the water. Whoever had done this to her had taken extreme measures to be sure she didn’t escape her death chamber.

The coffin smelled very bad at this point. Piss, shit, sweat, mold and who the hell knew what else? There were worms inside, she knew that; but what about the stuff she didn’t know about? She’d been awake for a long time now, and all kinds of things could have slithered or crawled in through the hole she’d made. She occasionally felt more dirt pouring in on her, but she didn’t feel anything fall on her that might be alive. But in the pitch-blackness how could she know? All the putrid smells were making things worse. She felt like gagging a lot of the time, and when she didn’t she felt dizzy to the point where she sincerely thought she might pass out. Could the smell be attracting more, worse creatures towards her? Probably. And she was very quickly running out of air. She didn’t think she’d have long to go before she just gave up. She’d almost rather fight her way out and drown, but she didn’t know if she had that in her anymore. Perhaps if she hadn’t given up so easily at first, she might have done just that; escape the confines of this wooden prison and perhaps have drowned in the water, if indeed there was water. She was just assuming.

Jesus, she thought, if I don’t suffocate the smell will surely kill me.

There were more noises now. Almost like the sounds you might here if you were under a gigantic ocean liner creaking through the waters. Very deep, resonating creaks that made her shiver with fear.

What the fuck keeps doing that?

She missed Scott terribly, and knew that he would be panicked out of his mind. He was a worrier and she was constantly the cause of his worry. She always forgot to call or keep him updated on where she was. A lot of her friends thought he was too controlling, but, she didn’t mind. She liked the fact that he cared enough to want to be a part of every facet of her life. Maybe she was needy. Who cared though? She was happy with the way Scott treated her. He never hit her or abused her emotionally. And if all he wanted was to keep tabs on her, than so be it. Her Dad always had, now it was Scott’s turn. She didn’t know what she’d do without someone to keep an eye on her. To protect her. It felt good to be…wanted? Was that the word?  Needed? Scott had always been kind of a loner. He’d gone to the parties but had always stuck to himself. When he was pulled into something, he would come willingly enough and usually be fun, but unless he was actually pulled, he would just hover around the outside of the party, checking things out.

What would he be doing now, her Scott? He’d have called the police by now, no doubt about it. Her parents would have been informed, even though they hadn’t spoken in a while. What else? Teachers? Friends? Would everyone know that she was missing? Or would anyone know? Scott knew, and he would be freaking out, wouldn’t he? She would be if she hadn’t heard from him in…what, a couple of days? After 24 hours she would certainly call and see if he was ok, but since she had no idea how long she’d been gone, she couldn’t guess what steps he’d taken.

She was crying often. Her breaths were all restrained and slow. She was doing everything in her power to regulate these breaths and make them as useful as they could be.

The stench of feces was overwhelming. Try as she might, she could not hold the vomit in any longer and, turning her head, she spewed all over the side of the coffin. The small quarters couldn’t have made this experience any worse. She may as well have aimed it straight up for all the good it did her. The vomit splattered back at her and coated her in the most disgusting filth she’d ever endured.

She wanted to sleep but feared that she’d never wake up again. Would that be worse than suffering through this? I doubt it.          

Soon she wouldn’t have a choice but to sleep, and then…who knew?

She sobbed silently, trying to not to breathe any more than she needed to. Mom, Dad, please help me…I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna spaz if I don’t get outta this box.

She closed her eyes, hoping to reserve her energy. She didn’t plan on falling asleep, but she did.

*  *  *

Lisa Steeg was lying inside a coffin.

She was not dead. Quite the contrary, she was very much alive

Her body ached and she was having a lot of trouble breathing. She was beyond exhausted. She was breathing in short, quick little gasps that made her whole body tremor. The place was moving around her, and it smelled like shit and vomit.

Realizing that she had fallen asleep, she considered herself beyond lucky to have even opened her eyes again, even if all they saw was darkness. There were more things in the coffin with her now, and she was itchy. Her arms felt like they were moving, and she had strange bumps on her skin. Like bites. She itched away at them but that caused pain, so she stopped, even though the urge simply got stronger and stronger.

It was so hot she didn’t think she could stay awake, and there were sounds around her again. Loud and creepy sounding noises that she couldn’t place.

Ok, well, I’m gonna die I guess, may as well get used to it. I guess it won’t be so bad, I probably won’t even notice. It’s not like being shot or something. I won’t feel it. I’ll just go to sleep and I won’t wake up. Better than having these things eat me alive, which is what they seem to be doing.

She raised her arm a little, which took tremendous effort, and tried to swipe the critters away. She was sure they were spiders, but at this point, the darkness was really a blessing. Had she been able to see what was devouring her, she wouldn’t have been able to handle it. At least this way, she could hope for the best.

Yeah right. At least there are much worse ways I could die. I’ve actually heard that drowning is one of the worst. Inhaling all that water…hurts just thinking about it. Suffocation. It sucks but it’s not like I have a choice anymore. I just hope Scott and Mom and Dad find the fucker who did this to me.

There was a loud thump, or more correctly, the echo of a loud thump. These were noises Lisa had never heard before, so could neither explain nor justify. For all she knew it was Satan, digging his way up to rip her out the bottom of the coffin down to his home.

More and more she felt sure she was under water, and that the only thing protecting her from instant death was this box and the layers of dirt upon it. That seemed ironic, if it were actually the case.

The noises continued to get louder, as if they were approaching, and then, out of nowhere, the coffin was hit. It rocked slightly and more dirt funneled inside. The critters inside seemed to panic and began to run and slither around like crazy. She felt sure she was going to throw up again. The little things were crawling on her face and she couldn’t reach up to smack them away. All she could do was turn her head side to side or try and blow them away. There was no point in worrying about air consumption anymore, she was done for.

The coffin keeled back into its proper position, and there was a thud as it hit.

Something else hit the coffin on its top, and she heard what sounded like ripping wood. There was a grinding and the top moved a little. More dirt filled the coffin. She heard something, a hiss? She could feel more dirt hitting her legs now, which meant that another hole had opened up. The coffin was quickly filling up with dirt now. Except that the dirt was very very wet.

“Shit!” She blurted out. I guess it’s drowning after all.

Indeed, the water was seeping in now, cold and filling the bottom of the coffin with a pool of insect and worm infested water.

Fuck this! I am not drowning!

Lisa dug her finger into the hole she originally made above her stomach, and even though the pain was intense and she was well aware that tons of dirt was about to collapse in on her if she was successful, she began to rip the wood away once again.

Drops of blood she couldn’t see fell onto her hoodie, which was filthy as it was. She felt her nails ripping off in places and splinters sliding into the tender flesh underneath in others. More dirt filtered in, and more water. She could feel the stream hitting her torso now, not just her legs. In a few minutes the whole coffin would be filled with dirt and water, salt water from the taste of it. It was nice to get a bit of a drink, even if the water wasn’t good for her. It felt refreshing when it splashed on her face and skin, cooling her momentarily.

The more she dug through the wood, the more dirt and water poured in on her. Soon the water was up to her ears, and then over her ears and over her mouth and then her nose. She struggled as hard as she could to rip her way out and eventually, as she was holding her breath, ready to explode, she managed to push her hand through the hole, allowing water to pour in at an alarming rate.

She couldn’t breathe anymore. There were things in the water floating around her face. She pulled her hand in and began to try and spread the hole bigger with both hands. She thanked the Lord that this was a cheaply made coffin, if it was even a coffin at all. She wondered if it was just a box being used as a death trap. After all, nice coffins were expensive, and why would you waste good money on something you were going to use for...this?

The hole ripped wider, and she could see light above her, the surface of the water and it didn’t look too far away. If she could get out of here, she could certainly swim to safety. That is, if her body would function enough.

She tried to ignore the fact that the water swarming around her face was filled with vomit, shit and piss, and to concentrate on freeing herself, but it was hard. Lisa managed to rip the hole open some more, and then some more. After what felt like several minutes under the water, she was able to lift a knee and force it into the hole, pushing it through and making it rip apart under the pressure.

There was no more dirt coming into the coffin now, it had either all fallen in or been swept away by the water; either way, the coffin was now rocking slightly with the current of the water. It rocked up and then bumped down hard on something…wooden? Whatever.

Lisa kept fighting against the coffin, prying the hole open bigger and bigger, and now she could fit both hands through, which she did, and pulled them apart, tearing the wood away and opening it large enough for her to slip her legs through. After that, escape was easy. She pulled the rest of her body out of the coffin and used all her remaining energy to swim up to the surface.

Bliss. Ecstasy. The synonyms go on forever, but the meaning was the same. With that first breath of, would should have been fresh air, her lungs opened and her body breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized how little she’d been breathing in there until she took a great big breath of air. It was not fresh, however. Quite the contrary, it was foul, putrid and filled with the most horrendous aroma she’d ever encountered. Worse even than the smell that had filled her small prison. Lisa had never smelled this before, so had nothing to attribute the smell too, and even if she could, it didn’t change the fact that just because she was free of her prison, didn’t mean that she was safe.

Her energy was gone and she couldn’t even tread the water anymore. She took a quick look around and saw she was in a small room with a very high ceiling. There was a shore nearby covered in a mountain of dirt, along with a collection of shovels. The pool she was in didn’t seem all that big, but it could have been very deep. Looking down, all she could see was darkness. Anything could have been down there. On the surface of the water were a lot of wood splinters, insect corpses and unidentifiable debris. There was light coming from the ceiling in the form of a large sunroof, open to the daylight.

Something tickled her leg.

She squirmed but didn’t see anything below her. Her heart began to beat faster and she needed to get out of the water. It was not icy cold water, but it didn’t matter. She did not want to drown. Turning on her back, she kicked her feet as much as she could and began to float towards land. She took long, slow deep breaths as she floated, trying to get her body to feel better, but she now realized she was starving and nearly dying of thirst. After escaping the confines of that box, she wasn’t about to make things worse by drinking this water. It looked filthy and would probably kill her.

At the shore, she scampered up and lay on the dirty cement taking deep breaths and enjoying the relaxation she was temporarily allowed, temporary because she didn’t plan on spending any more time in this place than necessary.

But what the hell was that smell?

She turned her head to the side and saw a pile of dirt, crawling with worms and bugs and…other things. There were things poking out of the dirt, things that looked like stiff snakes or something.

Lisa looked away. I don’t care. I’m getting the hell out of here.

Using her elbows, she forced herself to a sitting position, and subconsciously looked over at the giant mound of dirt once again. What the hell were those things? She had to know. Damn it! She had to.

She turned over and crawled towards the dirt, wary of the worms crawling along the cement, and as she neared the dirt, she stopped and held her breath because the smell was almost unbearable.

Fingers. The fucking things were fingers, sticking out of the dirt.

Lisa gagged, turned and threw up all over the pavement.

God please let me out of here!

She couldn’t see a door anywhere, and she was trapped in this room with bodies. How many bodies? Who could tell? There were a lot of fingers jutting out of the dirt. On closer inspection she could see what looked like a foot, and an elbow. Bloody digits and… what were those? Teeth?

Oh God they’re fucking teeth!

She was sobbing again. She had to pee.

Look around Lisa! There has to be a way out of here!

Dirt, water, ceiling. Nothing else. She couldn’t even see the top of the dirt pile, or the bottom of the water. There was just darkness down there. She knew her coffin was there, but what else?

There was a loud bang. A door opening? Maybe. The pile was stirring. She looked up and saw something sliding from the top of the pile down towards her. It was a coffin, and it was heading straight for her.

“Shit!” she yelled, and dove out of the way just before the coffin hit the pavement and its momentum carried into the water with a splash.

“What the…”

She got to her knees and looked up. There was a man there, a man who jumped down the dirt pile and started to slide down towards her.

“Scott?”

He hit the cement gracefully and picked up the nearest shovel.

Lisa’s eyes were wide, “Scott what the hell is going on?”

From her knees, near the edge of the water, as the coffin sank into the depths, she watched as Scott stepped towards her, raising the shovel into the air, and brought it down in a hard swing that caught her in the side of the head.

She came to before she opened her eyes, hearing digging sounds from very close by. Digging followed by splashing. Splashing. She gently opened her eyes, which was nearly impossible through the numbing headache she had. Scott was in the water, topless, pushing a coffin out of the pool and onto the land. He apparently didn’t notice she was awake or alive, since he paid her no attention.

Once the coffin was on land, he climbed up and used a shovel to pry it open. As the lid popped off a nasty cloud of gassy death escaped and Lisa trembled with a gag. There was a body in there. Another body. She had come close to being one of those bodies. Now she might have a worse fate. Scott covered his mouth with his arm, as if that would prevent the smell from invading him.

Scott! My Scott! What the hell is going on? How could he do this?

He reached into the box and hefted out a body, using his strong muscles to lug it up onto his shoulder. Scott didn’t struggle, it seemed like he was very used to this chore. He carried the body to the pile of dirt and tossed it unceremoniously down, before he began the tedious task of covering the body with dirt.

Oh, God, my boyfriend’s a psychotic killer!

She didn’t want to alarm him to her waking so she stayed motionless and silent. He buried the corpse and turned back to the empty coffin, digging around it. He tossed some things from inside onto the cement, a lighter, some change and a pair of keys, all which must have fallen out of the girl’s pockets. Indeed it had been a girl in that coffin. Lisa wanted to pick up the keys and stab him with them, but didn’t have the guts to stab her captor, because she wanted to know what was happening, and she was afraid.

Scott righted himself and took a deep breath, leaning over and picking up a small bag, from which he produced a pack of cigarettes, which he thusly opened and pulled a smoke out. He crouched down before her and picked up the lighter. She closed her eyes to seem asleep. She heard the click of the Bic and heard him take a deep drag.          

I thought he didn’t smoke.

You also didn’t think he was trying to kill you. You thought he was off somewhere trying to save you.

She stayed that way for several minutes until she heard the hiss of him tossing his smoke away, and then a splash. She opened her eyes and he was gone. He’d jumped back in the water. Pushing herself to her feet, and after stumbling for a moment to get her balance on weak legs, she picked up the shovel and prepared herself to smash in her boyfriend’s head.

Lisa could see him down there, swimming around like he was just taking a casual dip, only he was moving around another coffin, bringing it up to the surface. The whole bottom of this pool was filled with coffins. Coffins filled with bodies. Dead bodies. The water was murky with kicked up dirt

The coffin broke the surface with precision, sliding up onto the landing like a wooden crocodile. As soon as she saw Scott’s head break the surface, she swung the shovel. It connected with his skull and a horrid clank rang through the room, echoing up and out the sunroof.

Scott sunk down into the depths of his sickness as a trail of blood led down after him. Lisa grabbed the coffin and pulled it fully onto the land, hoping with every fiber of her being that there was a living person inside, but not getting her hopes up.

She couldn’t see Scott’s body anymore; it had sunk too far, but he was down there and even though she’d whacked him good, she was still afraid he would come right back up.

Using the same shovel she’d used on Scott, she stuck it in the crack between the core of the coffin and the lid, and began to pry it open. There were no signs of life from inside. There were no cries for help, bangs or bumps. Nothing. A large part of her didn’t want to crank the box open, so afraid of what might be inside was she, but at the same time, she didn’t want to be alone in this. She wanted another person to…share this misery with her. Not only was she fighting for her life against a man she thought she’d loved, but she had to do it alone, and with nearly no energy left in her body. The lid of the lifted up with the creak of wet, rusty nails and a horrible smell wafted out towards her. She shielded her face in much the same way that Scott had, using her filthy, wet sleeve to cover her nose as she looked away. It was not the same smell that filled the room though; she recognized the smell as what she had spent hours inside her own coffin with, shit, piss and vomit. Holding her breath, she pried the lid right off and shoved it aside, where it fell over onto the floor with a dull clatter.

She looked inside and felt the urge to throw up all over again.

There was a body inside, and it looked dead. Not that she’d ever seen a dead body before this night, but it wasn’t moving, and its skin was horribly pale with purplish blotches.  Lisa’s eyes were teary and she looked up to the top of the dirt pile, looking for a door, but it was too high to see anything above it, or on top. But there must’ve been a door there, there had to be.

Ok, so she’s dead…what were you expecting?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Lisa looked around and began to collect up the things Scott had cleared out of the coffin. The lighter, the change and the keys, as well as the smokes and the bag Scott had been using. Never knew what might come in handy. And she could use a smoke herself, even though she wasn’t a smoker.

She stuffed everything in the bag, before realizing that Scott had cleared out the previous coffin, and maybe this new one had something more useful inside. She had to check.

Leaning over the body, trying to hold her breath, Lisa moved her hands around the side of the girl’s body. She was pretty, or had been. As she stuffed her hand in the girl’s pocket, the body twitched violently and snapped upright, taking in a deep gasping breath. Lisa leapt away in fear and shock, slamming her head on the pavement.

Everything went black.

*  *  *

Everything…stayed…black.

Lisa Steeg was in a coffin.

She was dead.