Darkness swallowed everything around me. The air was stale, thick, and carried a faint scent of dirt ,almost muddy, as if I were inhaling the ground itself. I tried to sit up, but my forehead struck something hard and unyielding above me.
Wh-where am I?
Sweat trickled down the side of my face. Panic pushed against my ribs as I kicked and twisted, trying to free myself from whatever confined space I had been thrown into.
CLICK.
A sharp sound echoed through the darkness. I felt something brush against my toes—cold and unfamiliar. I wiggled my body like a trapped worm, slowly shifting it closer to my hands. After a few painful minutes, my fingertips finally brushed against smooth plastic.
A phone? Whose phone is this?
"Hello? Is there someone here?!"
Nothing.
Probably not… it's a little crowded for company, I muttered to myself.
Suddenly, the phone vibrated violently in my hand. The screen stayed black.
Is it broken? Why is the screen off?
I felt around the edges, pressing random buttons until—by luck—I hit the one that answered the call. A deafening screech shot through the speaker, stabbing into my ears. A distorted voice followed, metallic and layered—neither human nor machine.
"Hello there Mister…Should I call mister? …No, I think creature should be enough."
The voice was odd. It hurt just to try and decipher it.
"You should figure that out for yourself after our chat," it continued, the screeching static wrapping around every word. "But keep in mind-you will need to survive there long enough if you want the thing you asked for."
Asked? I… asked for something? When?
I dug through my memories, but before I could grasp anything, the piercing noise returned-sharper, more violent.
"You will get five calls. If you do not put them to good use… lets just say you will be long forgotten."
A cold shiver crawled along my spine. Something inside me-instinct, dread, something primal-knew I was about to face misfortune beyond anything I could imagine.
"There is a flashlight, some water, and a little surprise," the voice said. "All of which are a few inches from your left hand. And you should not worry about air."
Air? Why would I worry about ai—
And then it hit me.
The smell.The dampness.The crushing space around me.
My fingers fumbled desperately until they found the flashlight. With trembling hands, I switched it on. Harsh, artificial white light filled the coffin-like space—and when I finally saw where I was, a violent gasp tore itself from my throat.
I was buried.
A claustrophobe buried alive, what kind of bad joke is this?
But my grieving was abruptly cut short by the voice again.
"Isn't this exciting?" it hissed, its tone dripping with twisted delight. "For you to go through what she went through… ah, simply lovely."
…
What is this thing talking about?And—who the hell is she?