It was not death, for I stood up

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'It was not death, for I stood up,'

I can smell the rot. The decomposition trapped within this small box underground.

'And all the dead lie down.'

I reach my hand up to my bare neck, the bone slowly being filled in with tissue and muscle. My jaw opens and closes in a desprate attempt to breathe. The moment my lungs and throat are fully formed, I take the biggest breath of my life.

The pain isn't gone even as the last of the tissue in my legs forms. This new pain is a deep longing, a need for something cold and wet.

An animalistic scream escapes my throat. My body shakes as my fists fly into the hard wood above me.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The dirt collapses in on me and my throat is filled with the earthly stuff. I don't stop fighting. It feels like I have been without air for so long that these few moments of climbing through the earth mean nothing.

The moment my hand reaches the surface, I can feel eyes on me. The more of my skin that slides out of my grave the more I feel exposed to whatever is watching me.

The scream returns as I hack the dirt out of my lungs. My hair is matted and wild, my satin pink dress torn and filthy.

I stumble to my feet, wobbling on new legs that burn with need. I look around me and see that I am in a graveyard. Behind me is my gravestone with my name on it.

'Ira Jones.'

The moon is incredibly bright, too bright almost. It can see in the night as well as I could in the day.

The eyes are still on me and I spin around as my ears pick up on the slightes bit of breathing. Next to a gravestone is a very large man. He makes the stone look tiny compared to him. His face is hidden by a baseball cap and I can't make out any features.

The hair all over my body stands on end. He isn't right. He is dangerous, threatening, powerful, and ancient.

This man is much older than the gravestone 30 feet from me that reads '1798'. My eyes travel over his form, examining every detail. I have no clue why I can see so well and how I can hear every breath from someone who is more than 50 feet from me.

A smile graces his lips and he takes a step forward. In a flash, he is suddenly just 5 feet from me. I stumble back. Something is really really fucking wrong. Everything about this man defies the laws of nature.

"Beautiful."

His voice sounds like smooth vanilla. I take a deep breath, unwillingly. His scent is that of the sweet sea. It reaches deep into my lungs and coats every bronchiole.

"Who are you?" My voice is hoarse and aggressive. Almost animalistic. "What is happening?"

"You should learn your place. Don't speak to me like that." His smile is now a thin line. Somehow, I can tell this is a test.

I take a step closer and lean forward. "What...is...happening?" I demand with each word.

He chuckles at me. At me.

A small growl escapes my lips and a gust of wind slaps the hat off his head. My eyes widen at the sight of this man. Every feature is stunning but nothing compares to his eyes.

Purple.

He smiles and joy sparkles in his eyes. It is like he is looking at something he has been waiting over 1,000 years for.

Me.

__________

Plz comment and let me know if I should take this story to a new level!

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