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"The Darkest Darkness"

Being buried alive isn't nice. I should know.
Finding yourself six feet under in a wooden coffin, and when you open your eyes, you see nothing but the darkest darkness. It's not a pleasant experience.

And it's cold. Colder than the unholy touch of the Devil. Only the hardest heart hellbent on the sickest revenge could perpetrate such a crime.

You can scream all you want, but no one's going to hear you.
Maybe you think some kind of backed-into-a-corner superhuman strength could get you out.... but no.
When you're down there, it's the end. There's not a cat-in-hell's chance of escape.

-

It was midnight when I turned the key in the lock. I climbed the shadowed stairs and entered the bedroom. And there they were - cuddled together blissfully asleep, like two happy bugs in a rug. The s1ut and the weasel.

With them staring down the barrel of a shotgun, I marched the two of them down the stairs, out of the front door, and into my car. I told loverboy to drive. He was practically wetting himself, whimpering like a baby.
The two-timing s1ut just kept yelling at me, so I bashed her over the head with butt of my gun. That shut the yapping b!tch up.

We drove through the night. The rain was hammering down.

When we arrived at the isolated spot, I smashed loverboy's lights out and got to work. It took me several hours to complete my task. I had to drag their unconscious adulterous frames into two coffins, and then slide them into the previously prepared pits. Filling up the holes with cold earth almost broke my back. In the blinding rain I was slipping all over the place, but I did it. I did it.

-

And that's where we are now. I bet the two of them are scared to death, experiencing the mother of all panic - side-by-side facing oblivion alone.
But they deserve all they get. Six months of foolin' around behind my back, lieing to my face. Who the hell do they think they are! Well, it's like it says in The Bible: 'You reap what you sow', and it's doomsday for the deceivers.

The rain's stopped, and first light is upon the land. It's so peaceful out here. So clear and crisp. The dawn chorus is in full voice.... but they'll never know how beautiful it sounds.

What's it like to be cloaked in the darkest darkness, knowing that your anguished screams will never be heard.

Being buried alive isn't nice. I should know.

Black Glove wrote:
> I've tried to write 'nicer' or 'funnier' stuff, but I always seem to
> twist them into darkness. These tales I write are definately not based
> on experience.... but I would say that, wouldn't I.


I understand what you mean. I tried to write a love story a while back and have churned out a twisted story about incurable disease, infidelity, delusions, deteriorating mental health and murder.

Back to the drawing board!

Exellent post, hopefully it will never happen to me.

Thanks for the comments everyone. Much appreciated. It's good to get a positive reaction.

Insane Bartender wrote:
> I'm starting to get worried about this Black Glove bloke.
> I'm concerned he may be writing from experience...

I've tried to write 'nicer' or 'funnier' stuff, but I always seem to twist them into darkness. These tales I write are definately not based on experience.... but I would say that, wouldn't I.

Very good.

Frickin' excellent stuff though :^)

Well he said he did it.

That was good too, very nice.

I'm starting to get worried about this Black Glove bloke.

I'm concerned he may be writing from experience...

You scare me... but in a good way.

Won't it?

*makes a mental note to bury Ineedsleep alive*

My worst nightmare (which I know will never happen) made this even darker than usual for me. Cheers