ⰰⱃⰻⱄⰵ

ⰻⱅ ⰻⱄ ⱅⰻⰿⰵ

ⱈⰵ ⰰⱂⱂⱃⱁⰰⱌⱈⰵⱄ

Ⰸⰲⰰⱀⰻⰿⰻⱃ

-

The clattering of bones echoes for short moments before sinking back into the silence. The first sound the long-forgotten crypt had heard in ages.

Its second sound comes in the form of rusted metal scraping against rock as the sole inhabitant arises from his sleep and begins to seek ways to escape his prison.

-

Roaches, intrigued by the sound, make their way towards its origin, swiftly skittering across the scattered bodies. A familiar route for the insects, one they tread upon many times each day during their movement through the large room.

The first roach reaches the destination, moving its antennae across the large stone slab in hopes of locating the source of the sound that had disturbed its slumber.

Another roach joins it… and another… and another. Soon the stone slab is crawling with the insects, each squirming wildly on it, searching for any signs of life.

The scraping begins anew and now all the roaches move in unison towards the source of the sound, reaching the edge of the stone slab. While only a metre in width, for the tiny insects the trip is a considerable one.

The first roaches that reach the slab’s edge find themselves in luck as it begins to rise underneath their legs and a small gap begins to form between the slab and the coffin-like structure it resides on. They hastily move into the newly opened space, a comfortable squeeze for their bodies.

As quickly as they came, the roaches retreat as the first lucky ones are crushed by the heavy slab collapsing onto them whilst they enter, their carapaces cracking in unison. Few are dead, but from their deaths the swarm has learned. Next time, they would approach it with more caution.

Their next opportunity soon comes as the slab lifts again, this time joined by a large piece of metal poking out, creating a safe entryway for the roaches.

They remain careful, not immediately entering the mysterious place that beckons them. Some move closer to observe, others remain further away, letting the less patient ones serve as scouts before putting their own bodies at risk.

For some minutes no movement happens, the stone coffin lies with its lid ajar, held in place by a rusted piece of metal. The roaches await anxiously, some barely able to contain themselves.

At last, a new sound emerges from the dark depths of the coffin. All antennae move towards the opening now to better hear the faint sounds. Laboured breaths make their way through the stale air of the coffin towards the roaches. Few of them remain in wait. The rest rush inside.

-

Coffins are for the dead, that much is certain. Those that have passed, whose hearts stopped beating. Men and women whose bodies no longer feel warm to the touch, whose lungs no longer breathe air, whose eyes are devoid of soul. But he was none of those things or at least not some.

Air passed through his dried-up throat, a sensation much akin to coarse sand rubbing against your skin. But he breathed. His lungs clearly functioning. Instinctively, he moved his hand to his chest only to find the space he had been within was more cramped than it seemed.

His shoulders scraped against the rough stone walls that confined him from all sides. It was an insignificant pain, he had felt worse, but at least he felt something. His skin was not dead and neither was his heart.

Beat after beat, it struck strong, pumping the blood through his body, creating warmth and life in the process. From his chest, his right hand slowly moved closer towards his face, passing over a thick piece of fabric attached to his neck.

There was little time to think of it and the hand continued to move until finally he could feel his own face underneath his fingertips, the warmth of his own skin coming as a pleasant surprise. Another sign of life.

While the right hand moved across the face, the left hand moved downward, exploring the bounds of the walls within which he lay confined until it felt something cold. Distinctly colder than the stone. It was something solid yet it fell apart upon his touch.

It took him several moments, but soon the realisation was upon him. A sword, that must be it. Or at least what was left of one. Instinctively, he grasped what was left of the rotten wooden hilt and brought the sword closer to his chest. Some of it was still intact, but most came apart as the rusted sword scraped against the stone.

He let go of the sword and began to slowly move his hands upward until his palms hit the stone slab that lay above him. With all his might, elbows pushed against the ground, he tried to lift the rock, but it did little to move the heavy slab, lifting it little for mere moments.

As the futility of his attempt dawned upon him and the slab fell back into place, the sounds of small bodies being crushed joined his grunting. He was trapped, but there was a way out. All that had to be done was remove the stone above him and freedom would be within grasp.

The next step was to take the sword and try to lodge it between the bottom and the slab, but its length was just too short to have any real effect. Another method would be needed.

He had been awake now for several minutes, moving within the stone coffin. Using up his energy and the little air that was left within. The few seconds for which he opened the lid let some air in, but he could sense it would not last him for long. He would have to escape, and he would have to do it soon.

With all his strength, the sword between his palm and the lid, he pushed upwards once again. As soon as the slab of stone moved away from him, he clasped the sword, bracing his right arm to bear the weight of the stone, and pushed the sword underneath it.

The slab once again attempted to fall back into its place, only this time the sword had created a small gap. It was of little help in getting him out, but it would at least allow air to enter, securing life for at least a little longer.

-

The feeling of triumph was short-lived as the roaches began to furiously enter the coffin, swarming over him, crawling over every inch of his bare skin.

There was little the man could do but close his mouth and eyes in the hopes that they would not enter and instead remain only on the outside of his body.