Entombed

I am jolted awake in my bed, heart racing, covered in cold sweat. I look around the room and sense it immediately; something isn't right. Everything looks strange and unfamiliar, the whole place is desperately gloomy, and as I lean over to flip the lamp switch, the bulb burns out.

The brief shock of bright light makes me aware of my pounding headache. I wipe my eyes and lumber out of bed, down the hallway and into the bathroom. For whatever reason, I notice that my legs feel unusually tired, heavy, and weak. The floorboards creak and groan under my feet which brings me to realize that everything else is eerily silent.

My hand automatically goes to the light switch but as I flip it up, I am met with the same disconcerting result as the bedroom lamp; a surge, an annoying flash, and nothing. Sighing, I open the medicine cabinet and retrieve a bottle of headache medicine. I fill up a glass with water from the tap, and gulp it all down.

I notice my reflection in the mirror above the sink; Christ, I look like a ghost; pale and unhealthy, a slight bluish tinge to my lips. I feel severely hungover, but I dont remember drinking last night at all...my heart speeds up as I make the disturbing revelation that not only do I not remember getting drunk to the point of a hangover last night....I dont even remember coming home from work. In fact, I hardly recall most of my shift.

My brain feels scrambled, like someone has rewired the memories and I've shorted out. I try to reason with myself.

I know I have been stressed more than usual lately. Things at the plant were getting tense. People rushing and trying to get promotions, ignoring safety procedures, etc. My boss can be cold and unreasonable, and he had gotten into the habit of springing things on me last minute. And in my job, you really cannot afford to make mistakes because of some careless people making hasty decisions. I'd been under a lot of pressure, but I never thought it could be enough to cause blackouts or these lapses in memory.

My thoughts start making me extremely uncomfortable again, my sense of time is all off, my body is sore and dragging. I realize my anxiety is holding me hostage to where I am lost in my own thoughts, staring down at my feet in the middle of the bathroom. The only sounds I hear are the dripping of the tap, and my own rather laboured breathing.

Then all at once, the stillness is shattered by the menacing sound of blaring sirens. My heart is practically in my throat and I run to the living room window. But I am met with the disturbing sight of an empty and abandoned looking city. The sirens grow louder, seeming to come from every direction, yet I cannot see a single soul anywhere. It's a ghost town I hardly even recognize as my home; not a child in sight, not a vehicle on the road.

I also see that a thick and oppressive fog has wrapped itself entirely around every building, and all the trees. It's so heavy it's even blocking the sun, and in fact, it looks more like toxic smog, than low hanging clouds. Everything is so desolate and grey, I cannot even tell what time of day it is. I scan the room for my watch, and find it on the table by the telephone.

I feel a lump in my throat as I read what it says:

1:23 am ....1:23 am?

How is that even possible? I feel the panic set in, but I tell myself I am overreacting. It's probably just wound up wrong. The sirens still assault my ears, making my headache worse.

I take a deep breath and hurry into the kitchen to check the wall clock...to my utter dismay, it reads the same thing;

1:23 am.

At this point I am convinced I am in some sort of lucid nightmare. This is a waking dream. Any moment I will open my eyes again, and i won't feel so desperately doomed. I've had these types of dreams before: the ones where you are in your own house or some other familiar environment, but its void of all other life, and it all seems eerie and foreign. No visible threat is present, just a persistent, ominous dread....of ...something unknown.

I wish those damn sirens would stop. My head is killing me. Perhaps if I get back into bed and lay down, I can somehow end this and wake up. With no other plan in mind, I walk back down the hall towards my bedroom. But as I pass the living room again, I come upon another nightmarish sight;

The fog from outside has started to seep inside, through the windows, through cracks in the floorboards. Fog doesn't do that. The panic grows as the wispy tendrils of white mist creep their way along the walls, and floor, twisting in a serpentine dance gradually approaching my feet.

I notice the sirens have stopped, but they are slowly being replaced by another more sinister noise; a hellish sounding hiss, and as it grows louder, my ears begin to ring, feeling like my eardrums will pop.

I feel the panic rising as I'm transfixed on this mist or fog or whatever it is, swirling and crawling in a sentient and purposeful way towards me, and that hissing noise keeps droning, louder and louder until I cover my ears with my hands.

Just as the smoke reaches me, I jump to the side, running down the hall, to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I lock it for some reason. I notice that the sirens are suddenly quiet. I stare at the door and wait for I don't even know what to come through.

Beads of sweat form on my brow and I can see the vaporous fingers of that diabolical mist find their way under the door, once again inching towards me. I back up, bumping into the bed frame, falling to the floor. The hiss is so loud now, my hands claw at my ears in desperation.

Im too scared to get up so I am frozen, petrified, knees to my chest, my hands still attempting to shield my ears from the ongoing assault.

The fog finally reaches me, and slowly swirls it's way around my ankles, around my calves, and up towards my thighs. As I watch in horror, I become acutely aware that my skin is beginning to burn in the places the fog has touched. It grows in intensity, and soon every nerve in my body is screaming, as the poison spreads and the pain intensifies, my face feeling the pricks of a thousand needles.

Now my mouth is screaming too, such sounds I didnt know I was capable of even producing. I look down at my arms, and see the decay of my body before my very eyes. The skin turns red, sizzling under the smoke, the pain becoming unbearable. Gasping for air between screams of agony, I crawl over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. Every movement assaults the nerve endings until I want to tear off my own burning skin.

At last I reach the glass, and pull myself off the floor to behold my ghastly reflection, a true monster, the epitome of fear; my entire body is burned to the point of being unrecognizable as a human being. My hair is gone, chunks of flesh are missing from my face, and what skin remains is blistered, black, and bubbling, in a truly grotesque display.

My jaw is gaping in untold amounts of agony , but screams have ceased to come out, instead replaced with a wheezing death rattle accompanied by puffs of black smoke. I am fully engulfed in the toxic embrace of the burning fumes, and I feel my body hit the floor as everything fades to blackness.

I wake up once more, this time in reality. I'm gasping for air, I cannot see a single thing. The darkness is so complete and total, it feels like its piercing my eyes. I can hear the faint sounds of sirens, falling debris, the crumbling of rock, and distant shouts. I cannot even remember my own name for a brief moment, let alone where I am or how I came to be there. I choke on dust and dirt, wheezing and getting no relief from the hot, oppressive air.

I try to move, but as I do, I realize that either my legs are gone completely or my spine is broken. All I know is that my brain is telling my legs to move but it's as if they aren't even there. I dont exist anymore from the waist down, and the rest of me I can still feel is too weak too move.

Then I notice something that makes it all come rushing back into my mind. Everything. What had happened and where I must be as a result;

Its the taste of metal. Its so strong, I almost want to gag, but I am already weakly wretching and heaving between failed screams.

I know what that taste means. It might as well be the angel of death.

Metal in the mouth means a nail in the coffin.

That's what we always said. Dear god. Something terrible has happened, and I am merely one of the first casualties. I remember now.

I had been at work on the night shift. We'd been informed of a safety test. Standard procedure they said. I'd been talking to the guys about May Day plans just beforehand.

Dear god, it was just a safety test.

The last thing I remember was looking up at those huge water pumps; rattling and groaning. Jesus. Then the steam started bursting out, making that awful hissing noise. I hardly had time to register what was happening, before I began running but I didn't get very far. A flash of powerful bright light and a violent force threw me to the ground and blew out my eardrums. I felt my body hit the ground, and heard the deafening rumble as everything went dark, and my body broke underneath the falling debris.

I thought I had woken up at home. I thought I was home! But I never made it there. I never even finished my shift tonight.

My poor comrades in the control room had been nervous about this whole test. I suppose now they had good reason, for here we are...

Something went terribly wrong and though I am not aware of exactly what, I do know the following at least; the area is severely irradiated, I am buried underneath rubble as a result of an explosion, the only reason I am still alive is because my brain miraculously avoided a fatal collision with any falling debris. My torso and head are in a small pocket, provided by the uneven way the structure had tumbled down. The rest of me was surely crushed to a pulp, and even it weren't, I'd be a dead man anyway from the radiation I can already feel tearing me apart.

There is little oxygen, I'm feeling fuzzier and less coherent with every passing moment. I dont know how much rock, or steal beams are above me, preventing my recovery, but I estimate a few stories worth at least.

Its doubtful anyone will ever even find me.

I'm fading faster now, I can hear my erratic heartbeat slowing, my breath ceasing. I have minutes, if seconds left. I slowly feel my existence snuffed out and my body eliminated by the lonely and chilly grasp of death.

More than 30 years later, this is still my tomb. I have been here ever since that awful night, and will remain so until what is left of my destroyed body is recovered out of the poisonous ash and I can rest in peace.

Until then, my soul is stationed here, to these irradiated ruins. This place will forever be a

symbol of men's misguided confidence in their ability to harness powers, capable of rendering a place uninhabitable for centuries to come.

My name is Kodemchuck. Don't feel too bad for me. Just remember to leave me a cigarette if you ever visit.