Chapter 1

The Grave

When death is eminent, you reflect on life. Everyone says their life flashes before their eyes. That's not exactly true. The most accurate description is that of a hurricane. Sure, certain memories of emotions become clearer. Sadness, happiness, exhilaration, pride, fear, hate, passion and love swirl around like a tornado in your head. Memories of your life don't come in flashes. They come in waves. You see them rolling in like clouds on the horizon and then the mystical feeling as if you are reliving the moment arrives and you are faced with your triumphs and failures, your accomplishments and your embarrassments. You have time to think about the memory but cannot stop or change the outcome. You can feel love and the butterflies that feeling invokes but you cannot stop the stabbing sensation you feel when the love fails you. Praying, for some, can give comfort. Others just fear the inevitable and hope it comes soon. Either way, you wait with only the thoughts in your head of your life so far.

Elizabeth opened her eyes to the horrifying scene unfolding before her. This can't be real she thought as she tried unsuccessfully to move. As she attempts to focus in the dark, she lifts her hands only to find her worst nightmare is a reality. She can feel the cool satin of the lining. She moves her hand across it and finds the grooves and flaps in the corners where the lining is gathered. She notices the sensation of a small soft pillow beneath her head and discovers the fact that she can't move anything more that six inches in any direction. Where is she? She searches her mind and there is only one conclusion she can think of. A coffin.

"Help", she croaks out as if almost a whisper. She clears her throat and notices a funny taste in her mouth. It is dry and she concludes the putrid tang must be from the drug that was on the handkerchief.

Clearing her throat again she screams, "HELP!"

"Someone please help me." The last two words sounding more like stalled cries.

The abrupt shift causes her to gasp. She's moving. Well, the coffin is moving. She can hear the faint sounds of…of….what? A forklift? An Elevator? What is happening? What sick bastard would put a woman in a coffin?

Now she can hear the muffled sounds of a voice and rain dropping around her. Rain? No, it's too heavy to be rain. Hale? It's not making the right sound on the coffin which she assumes to be wood. What is it? She searched her mind as she listened. It sounds like a thud and then trickling. She stops her breathing to take in the sounds. She closes her eyes and waits for the sounds to create a picture in her mind. It sounds like scraping, a muffled deep grunt, a thud and trickling. Scrape, uhgg, thud, trickle….scrape, uhgg, thud, trickle….scrape, uhgg thud trickle. She searches her mind for the picture to come into view.

Panic sets in as her eyes scream open when the realization washes over her and her stomach rolls. She can actually taste the bile that is building from the images she sees.

It's dirt!!!

A quiet tear leaks from her eye, slowly sliding down her face and disappearing onto the satin pillow beneath her head. Soon the salty liquid floods freely from both eyes. Her crying going unheard. No one will find her; no one can help her now. Whoever put her here wants her to die slowly. Wants her to reflect on her life. Wants her to suffer for the things she's done and seen and felt.

She's assaulted with dread and she cries while her mind booms the thoughts in her head. She's being buried in the ground! Who would do this? Who would kill her? Why?

JASON