Entombed

    The slumber had been placid, replete with wispy visions of joyous fancy which abruptly changed to dreams of verdant harmony, the images pulsating with animation, each to each, before rippling away into the nothingness from which they emerged. Hazy likenesses of gardens, green fields, gleeful children, all coming to life, perceived as if through a frosted windowpane.

    The tranquil trance was rent asunder abruptly, by tumult and clamour of proportions assumed only in nightmares. It seemed as if somewhere in the distant, yet engulfing blackness of sleep, a thousand nether portals of cataclysm had invisibly materialized, issuing forth ever marcid oceans of unmitigated chaos and excruciation…

    When the man came to, it was still dark. It was just that the murkiness was not wholly as intangible. Senses seeped back into him, bringing along a wave of painful comprehension. He was entombed!

    He could not muster enough courage to open his eyes, for they would certainly be assailed by the weight of many layers of dust resting upon them. Indeed, it was now that he began to understand that it was the weight upon him which seemed insuperable. The darkness was unyielding, adamantine; swiftly undoing him. Yet the weight was not of that alone, but even of the limbs he knew he possessed in a perfectly functioning state when he went to sleep. Upon trying to budge them, the only response was a pulse or two of agony through the numbness.

    Memory and consciousness returned in due order. The complete understanding of the situation impaled him with paroxysms of purest, soul-wrecking terror. It was with titanic effort that he prevented himself from throwing up, fear constricting even his lips as he uttered muffled cried, using all the air he could find in the space. He had dozed off in his hotel room, an earthquake had occurred, and it had all caved in upon him. With little idea of how long he’d been unconscious, it was only a matter of waiting for death.

    Gradually overcome by utter resignation, he resolved to confront it with some spirit, like a man. As the petrified blood subsided from his head, he endeavoured to compose his nerves, or what was left of them. Life, or thoughts of it, seemed bliss itself, and he entertained such sprightly ideas, in an attempt to make the end as painless as possible. His strength and will had been wholly sapped.

    Suddenly he heard a sound in the darkness, a noise, sharp, distinctly tearing in manner. With great wonderment, the sufferer strained his ears in anticipation, determined not to miss even a slight scratch. The hopes were fulfilled when the noise was followed, after some vacant moments, by several similar crackling ones, each consequently louder. Splitting their way through the rubble to his ears, the noises seemed far off, but sent his heart prancing with renewed hope and vigour. He fathomed that a rescue party was cutting through the mounds of death to find the living. The noises seemed to be nearing him, and he tried to shout out of his sealed lips. His eyes, which he now bravely opened in narrow slits, were suddenly struck by an unexpected fulgence, much like sunlight. Yet the vision was instantly clouded by a grey pall, and he felt a warmth which was anything but comforting. The earthquake had caused several fires, and this was one of them.