Sarcophagus 1

I remember what the outside of the sarcophagus looked like. The face of some ancient ruler or bureaucrat, its stolid, expressionless face meticulously carved into the heavy wood. I remember looking intrigued at how well-preserved the thing was, as it sat upright against the wall in the bowels of the ancient tomb I had decided to explore. It was in very good shape, quite large to boot, and surprisingly well-preserved. It took a long time to descend into this section of the tomb, having to go down multiple flights of stone stairs and navigate several narrow winding tunnels. Hopefully it will have all been worth it. And sure, there had been rumors that this place was cursed, but that only added to the intrigue, right? Plus, I probably shouldn't have come here alone, but maybe I'm just foolhardy that way. Well, I had to see what was inside. I set my equipment down onto the floor and slipped the heavy lid open, just to muster a quick peek.

It was, to my surprise, empty. Devoid of any kind of occupant. And that's when it suddenly emitted a brief hum and began to glow, with several bandages slithering their way out of the openings. I suddenly felt a pang of terror, as if I had woken something up. Panicked, I tried to close the lid, but the bandages had already made their way outside of the cracks around it. Had I noticed the bandage near my leg sooner, I probably could have backed away in time, but they were both fast and silent. And once it wrapped around my ankle, it held it tightly, refusing to let go.

I pulled my leg back, kicking it around to try to dislodge the bandage, almost falling backwards in the process. As I pulled away, the lid slid open again all on its own, almost like a giant maw opening up. A feeling of dread came over me as I more fully saw inside its dark interior. At this, I dropped my flashlight, hearing it clatter onto the ground.

Another bandage floated out, grabbing hold of my wrist. I gasped and turned around to face the other way, straining and pulling against them trying to get away. But they pulled back as another one took hold of my other wrist, wrapping around it tightly. As the bandages wrapped around my limbs, I tossed my body helplessly, my cries for help echoing off of the stone walls of the tomb chamber as they drew me inside, closer and closer.

My radio was sitting on the ground. I needed to use it to call for help. I tried leaning over and grabbing it, but the bandages were pulling my arms backwards. This caused me at best to only swing my arms over it uselessly as I was unable to reach it. Frustrated, I kept trying, grabbing at it more and more intensely with the bandages holding my arms back, as I desperately tried to pick it up. Eventually though, my efforts were defeated as the pulling forced me to stand upright and I was no longer able to bend over.

"Nooooo!"

My feet slid against the stone floor as I struggled to pull myself away from the bandages. But they were too strong. And once they had succeeded in pulling me into the back of the sarcophagus, they really went to work, quickly wrapping over every inch of my body, as I squirmed and fought against them vigorously.

They drew my arms up toward my chest in an X-shape, wrapping around them before pinning them to my chest, as well as quickly wrapping around my legs, binding them together and immobilizing them. The wrappings started to cover my neck, my face, and my entire head. I could feel the soft bandages covering my mouth and tightening around it. I threw my body weight left and right, and then finally forward in a last-ditch attempt to dislodge myself from the back of the sarcophagus, pulling this way and that with my bound arms. But I was stuck and could only watch in horror as the heavy lid slid over the opening, sealing me inside with a dull "thud" sound, though not before I could muster one final muffled cry through the heavy bandages over my mouth.

The view from inside the sarcophagus is markedly different from the outside. Pitch black. I don't know how long I have been inside of it. But even now, I'm still fighting to get out of it. Stuck in the cocoon-like embrace, I'll writhe around in the tight wrappings in the pitch darkness, able to wiggle my body around somewhat, though my movements severely restricted by the bandages. I'll twist and turn left and right, back and forth, pulling against them. Afterwards, I'll attempt another cry for help through my muffled mouth. If the sound can get through outside of the heavy wooden lid, it just might alert someone who happens to be there. Maybe a search party will be sent to rescue me. Will anybody come? I can't hear what's going on outside of this thing, if anything.

I'll try hopping a little bit, thinking maybe I can jostle the sarcophagus around. Then it's back to twisting my body left and right again, squirming around in the heavy wrappings. I've been doing this for a while, and I can feel my heart racing and face flushing as I start to get more desperate. I've got to get out of this thing! It's completely dark inside, there's so little room to move, and these wrappings so tight and snug, but I noticed they will give juuust a tiny bit if I work them hard enough.

So that's what I've been doing - indeed, the only thing I've been able to do - for the last several hours, if not even days. Hoping if I worm around enough, I can maybe eventually loosen them enough to free myself. The bindings seem to be gaining just a little bit of slack, though maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me. But I'm hanging onto hope that that's not the case, and that my efforts will pay off eventually. Or, that that rescue party will eventually come with a nice, sharp pair of scissors. At least my equipment scattered on the ground could clue them in as to what happened.

Or maybe this curse will wear off eventually and mercifully allow me to slip away, to swallow my pride and learn some kind of important lesson from all of this. Nothing lasts forever after all, right?

In the meanwhile, sometimes I'll lose patience with my efforts and start thrashing harder, before eventually screaming in frustration into the heavy wrappings sealing my mouth. That is, before I find it in me to keep going, fussing and twisting around yet again. It seems I have no choice otherwise. This is all I can do, all I'm able to do, and all I will do for who knows how long. And as if to add insult to injury, I know that no matter how hard I'm struggling and how desperately I'm trying to escape, the expression on the lid will remain the same - stone-faced and stoic, completely belying the expressions of its panicked and trapped occupant.

Strangely, I never seem to get hungry. I also haven't had to take care of bodily functions. Something about this sarcophagus is keeping me alive. I wonder if it belonged to some ancient figure who fancied himself a god and put some kind of enchantment on it to aid in his grandiose quest for immortality. The thought of it fills me with dread, and only causes the panic in me to stir even more. If true, a well-intentioned and ambitious goal on his part perhaps, but this is no way to spend an eternity!