《Behemoth - HIATUS》Chapter 1 - New World

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Pressure from everywhere. Shortness of breath. Overpowering stench. Many things around - wet and pliable but constricting.

He tried to push against the wet and pliable things but they wouldn't budge. All he could do was wriggle. First only his fingers and toes, then with some effort his hands and feet and finally, after straining for breath, his torso.

Panting and feeling faint from the effort he rested. Panic was rising now. He realised his eyes had been open for some time but there was only darkness.

The stench was of rotting flesh. He knew that instinctively. The knowledge and stench combined to force his bile up and he retched, but there was nothing in his stomach. He was thankful for that - in his constrained position the vomit would have dribbled all over his face. Small mercies.

Panic was rising rapidly now. He was surrounded by dead bodies. But more than that...he was stuck...stuck! Some deeply held fear rose within him suddenly and he screamed and cried out struggling, struggling to get some room for his limbs or even to allow him to twist his head or body.

His thrashing became more severe as the panic engulfed him. He had to get out...had to get out...had to get out!

Finally, his right foot hit pushed hard enough against some...thing...which snapped audibly. Audibly...at least he could hear if not see. He frantically pushed and pushed making the space for his right foot larger and larger. Something lying on his abdomen shifted a bit from the pushing and he twisted his torso like a sidewinder.

There it was! Some give! His continuing panic made him seize on the opportunity mindlessly and he renewed his efforts. Adrenaline drove him forward brutally.

After what felt like hours, he had managed to position himself in a sort of crouch in an orientation which he instinctively knew was the right side up. After some more struggling he was able to bring his arms close to his body.

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The shortness of breath was tangible now. Some part of his brain told him that one couldn't possibly survive in such a situation without suffocating eventually. This renewed his panic and he started clawing and pushing into the dead bodies frantically. Slowly, slowly his body inched upwards. But too slowly. His vision was becoming hazy and his heart was hammering in his chest.

Then, out of the darkness, a sliver of light. At first he thought he had imagined it but it was the only hope he could cling to so he drove towards it.

The beam grew stronger and broader, breaths came easier and the compression from the bodies eased. Exultation! Drawing on his receding panic and adrenaline and on his utmost reserves of energy he pushed his head through the rotting barrier and inhaled deeply. He fainted.

He awoke and his eyes were assaulted by green and his ears by buzzing. As he groggily looked around, he realised he was still entrapped in the pile of bodies from neck down. A vestige of his earlier panic resurfaced and he frantically extricated his shoulders, then his arms and then with an almighty push which, threatened to tear him in two, his torso and legs.

Spent with effort, his arms gave way and he tumbled down a rough hill. Bruised and aching he came to stop splayed out on his back. He breathed in calming breaths.

The sky framed by the tops of green trees was a vivid blue. Small black objects moved in and out of his vision....flies...he recalled. He lay there motionless.

When his heart had calmed and he could feel some strength return to his arms, he twisted and pushed himself off the ground and with shaky legs stood.

Something was wrong....the ground seemed far away. Too far away. He looked up and looked straight at one of the upper boughs of a nearby tree. Vertigo hit him and he stumbled backwards, just barely managing to catch his balance before he fell.

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