Buried Alive: The Terrifying Tale of a Man Trapped in a Coffin with a Corpse

John woke up with a start, his head throbbing, and his eyes struggling to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He tried to move his arms, but they were pinned to his sides, and his legs were tightly bound together. Panic set in as he realized he couldn't move, and he started to scream, his voice echoing back to him from the hard walls around him. But no one answered his cries for help.

As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, John realized that he was lying in a wooden box, a coffin. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, and his mind raced to try and make sense of what was happening. How had he ended up in a coffin? And why was it so dark?

And then he smelled it. The stench of death, was so strong that he could taste it on his tongue. He tried to move again, but the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. There was a dead body lying next to him in the coffin.

John started to hyperventilate, the air becoming thin, suffocating him. His heart racing, his palms slick with sweat, he tried to remain calm, telling himself that he had to find a way out of this situation. He couldn't just lie there and wait to die.

With a sudden burst of strength, he pushed against the lid of the coffin, trying to lift it, but it wouldn't budge. He pounded his fists against it, screaming at the top of his lungs, but no one heard him. No one was coming to his rescue.

Panic set in as he realized that he was running out of air. He was going to suffocate in this coffin, next to a freshly dead body. He tried to think of anything he could do, anyway he could escape, but his mind was blank.

And then he heard it. The sound of dirt being piled on top of the coffin, sealing him in his final resting place. The sound of a shovel hitting the wood, burying him alive.

John screamed and pounded against the lid with all his might, but it was no use. He was trapped, buried alive with a dead body, in a coffin that would be his tomb.

He tried to calm himself down, telling himself that there had to be a way out. But as the minutes ticked by, his panic turned to terror. The air was getting thinner, and he was starting to feel lightheaded.

And then, as if by a miracle, he felt something sharp poking through the wood above him. His heart raced as he realized that someone was digging him out that he might have a chance to escape.

He screamed and pounded on the lid again, hoping that whoever was digging him out could hear him. And then, suddenly, the lid of the coffin was lifted, and John saw the face of his rescuer.

But what he saw wasn't human. It was a faceless figure, with black, soulless eyes and a gaping, toothless mouth. Its skin was gray and rotting, and its hands were like claws.

John screamed in terror, trying to crawl away from the thing that had rescued him. But it grabbed him by the ankle, pulling him back into the coffin.

And then it started to speak, its voice like the hiss of a snake. "You belong to me now," it said. "You will serve me in death, just as this one did."

John screamed and thrashed, but the creature was too strong. It dragged him out of the coffin, pulling him down into the dark, moist earth.

And as John sank down into the earth, he realized that he was now one of the undead, a servant of the faceless thing that had rescued him from the coffin