text: [Themes: horror, horror]
  
  I went to the graveyard. What did I bring?
  
  > A casket
  Yes. I felt the casket jostle around me. For a moment I didn't understand that's what it was. My body didn't tell me how the silk around me felt. My eyes were closed, and even if they hadn't been this space had no room for light. Nevertheless, in an instant I knew it was a casket in the same way I knew I had a body even if I couldn't feel it.
  
  I laid still as a stone. I had to after all. Even if I could move there was nowhere for my limbs to go, no way to stretch out of the silk-lined interior that kept my hands folded as if in gentle repose.
  
  I wasn't supposed to be awake. That's not how this was supposed to play out. I could feel a scream building up inside me, but it didn't feel like it usually did. There was no flutter of it against my throat, there was no clenching of it within my stomach. It was only the emotion of a scream. Without feeling it like this, I never would have known a scream is more feeling of the spirit than it is of the body.
  
  I had held my lover's hand what had only seemed a few moments earlier. Hers were warm, mine cold. The world had glimmered though I knew it was, in actuality, dim and fading. It was extinguishing before me and I thought it would have been the silent smothering of a flame, but instead it was paper curling brightly, consuming itself in its thirst to blaze.
  
  Here was different. It was not bright. There was no color. I had never been more alone. The feeling of her skin to mine was a dull memory, one I couldn't even trick my flesh into replicating.
  
  Another jostle. I recognized it now as the thud of something falling on the lid above. Dirt. I was being buried.
  
  Perhaps I fell into a dull haze at the horrifying realization, perhaps I fell unconscious. Either way the world blurred like fever and when I came back to myself the march of soil reclaiming its place had long since been dismissed into the snuffling, shifting, soundless sounds of earth making itself comfortable.
  
  I quickly realized what had stirred me from the haze. A voice trembled over me. Loud enough to hear over six feet of packed dirt. It was a mournful cry. It meant something. It stirred my interest.
  
  I knew what I had to do... It was...
  
  It was...
  
  What was it?
  
  What did I do?
  
  > Waited
  As I listened to the voice above me, I started to regain some of the feelings around me. My chest started to pound heavily as my heart responded to the close darkness. With an effort of will, I made myself breathe slowly. I wasn't sure if my arms and legs would respond to my command, but I would not test it. Feeling my surroundings would only make them more stifling.
  
  The muffled voice above grew somewhat clearer and I realized that if I listened very clearly I could hear the soil above being shifted.
  
  I saw things in the darkness as I waited: hands that reached towards my face only to vanish before they could touch it, spiralling worms tumbling on top of me and eating at my clothes and hair, the ghosts of the graves beside me laying on their sides and observing me.
  
  I wanted to sing back to the voice above. Inside the casket had already started to feel warm and thin, however. Whenever I thought about how much air remained before I would start to sputter and twitch, I had to restrain my lungs from taking in great unrestrained gulps and try to smooth the red-hot heat that rose up over my face and throat.
  
  Once or twice I thought about who stood outside the grave, pushing the earth aside. An image of someone swinging the casket open then promptly burying a shovel's head into my skull to ensure I was dead played on loop for a short while. That can't be, I told myself. How would they know the song. But the voice was muffled beyond recognition and I knew there were ways to gain secret knowledge.
  
  Inches from my face, there was a loud scrape as metal dragged across the wooden lid.
  
  My body jumped involuntarily. At least I know my muscles still work.
  
  The voice continued softly singing and with each note I grew less certain. That note wasn't quite right. Was that as deep as his voice had been? He would never sing it that way. Surely it wasn't simply the casket's distortion. They were ensuring I was trusting and subdued before they got rid of me for good. My head was dizzy from the strained oxygen and I felt weak. I didn't have a way to defend myself. I didn't have anyhing.
  
  Maybe they were just trying to play some sick joke. Maybe they knew I couldn't fight and wanted me to spend my last moments in helpless terror.
  
  Maybe bystanders were snickering as they drew close. "They're gonna kill her. They're gonna kill her and she thinks she's gotten free. This'll teach everyone not to mess with the Argonovs."
  
  The digging above stopped. The singing stopped. There was a scrabbling against the side of the casket as whoever it was tried to pry it open. Probaby with the shovel.
  
  If I was quick. If I was ready... Maybe I could grab the shovel and yank it away. I had never been one to go down without a fight. If they thought they had gotten for good this time, I would put their man in the very grave they'd laid out for me and walk away unscathed.
  
  I allowed myself a few deeper breaths as the scrabbling continued, though by now taking in more still felt nearly empty.
  
  There was a louder scrape and a crack appeared to my right. Whatever light poured through was nearly blinding after the dark though I could tell it wasn't as bright as day. I took a stunned second as the fresh oxygen hit my lungs then scrambled after the blurry outline of the shovel's head. I managed to clench the metal edge in my bare fingers. It was unexpectedly sharp as it was quickly withdrawn with a startled gasp. My fingers stung, and the casket lid slammed down on top of them. I pushed against the heavy wood, howling.
  
  I was gonna get this fucker.
  
  I couldn't get the casket open, I was still angled oddly and couldn't lift my head enough to get it out of the formed head rest which confined it.
  
  A set of hands curled around the edge and started to pull the lid open.
  
  "Hey, hey, hey." A calming voice sounded, almost drowned out beneath my combative snarls. As the lid swung open, his face came into view. Ivan.
  
  All the strength seemed to flood out of me. Off course it was him. I fell into his arms and leaned in hard as all the tension was replaced with relief. Tears filled my eyes.
  
  "Hey... Hey... I'm here." He stroked my hair for a few gentle moments.
  
  "Do you think you can move?" he said eventually. "I'm sorry, my love, but we need to get you somewhere safe and make this all look normal by morning."
  
  "Yeah," I said. When I tried to stand my legs buckled beneath me. The drugs apparently hadn't left my system. He ended up having to fill in the grave by himself then lead me, waveringly, to the car in the early hours of the morning.
  
  I apologized for thinking he was someone else, but he wouldn't hear of it.
  
  I was half asleep at his shoulder as we trudged out of the graveyard. He was gently humming our song.
  
  I went to the graveyard with only my casket. I left in the arms of the man I love.