ZEN
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through my clothes and plastering my hair to my face. Noah, the violent one, dragged me out of the house, his grip like iron around my arm. My knees buckled with every step, the pain from his earlier blows radiating through my body. I stumbled, trying to find my footing on the slippery ground, but he yanked me forward, his pace unyielding.
"Keep moving," he snarled, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. "We're almost there."
I tried to resist, to slow him down, but my strength was fading. Each step was agony, my knees throbbing with every jolt. The rain mingled with the blood running down my legs, creating a slick, crimson trail in the mud. I could barely see through the downpour, but I knew where he was taking me. The open grave, the final resting place he had prepared.
We reached the edge of the pit, a yawning chasm in the earth. Noah shoved me forward, and I fell to my knees at the brink, the cold mud seeping through my clothes. I looked up at him, my vision blurred by rain and tears. His face was a mask of cold, unfeeling determination.
"Any last words?" he asked, his tone mocking.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. The terror and pain had stolen my voice. I could only stare up at him, my eyes pleading for mercy I knew would never come.
Noah's expression hardened, and he raised the shovel high above his head. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The rain, the mud, the cold—all of it faded into the background. There was only the shovel, poised to strike, and the man who held it.
Then, with a swift, brutal motion, he brought it down. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through my skull, and darkness swallowed me whole.
The rain continued its relentless assault on the earth, the sky a dark, unyielding expanse. As Noah dragged me through the storm, each drop felt like a needle against my skin. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my body trembling from the cold and fear.
"Noah, please," I managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper. "You don't have to do this."
He didn't respond, his grip tightening on my arm. Panic surged through me, my heart pounding in my chest. I tried to twist free, but his strength was overwhelming. My vision blurred with tears, the world around me dissolving into a haze of pain and despair.
We reached the edge of the pit, a gaping wound in the earth. Noah shoved me forward, and I collapsed at the brink, my hands sinking into the cold, wet mud. I turned to look at him, my eyes pleading for mercy.
"Why?" I whispered, my voice breaking. "Why are you doing this?"
His face remained impassive, his eyes devoid of any humanity. "Because you need to learn a lesson," he said coldly. "And this is the only way you'll understand."
He raised the shovel, the metal glinting ominously in the dim light. I braced myself, my body tensing in anticipation of the blow. But instead of striking me again, he plunged the shovel into the earth, scooping up a mound of dirt and tossing it into the grave.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. He wasn't going to kill me quickly. He was going to bury me alive.
"Noah, please!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror. "Don't do this! Please!"
He ignored my pleas, methodically shoveling dirt into the grave. The earth piled up around me, the weight pressing down on my legs, my hips, my chest. Each breath became a struggle, the air growing thick and suffocating.
I clawed at the sides of the grave, trying to pull myself out, but the mud was slick and unyielding. My fingers slipped, my nails breaking as I scrabbled for a hold. Panic engulfed me, my mind a whirl of frantic thoughts.
This can't be happening. I can't die like this.
But the dirt kept coming, Noah's movements steady and unrelenting. The weight pressed down on me, crushing my body, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I could barely move, the mud encasing me like a tomb.
Darkness encroached at the edges of my vision, the world growing dim and distant. My thoughts became sluggish, my mind numbing from the lack of oxygen. I could feel my consciousness slipping away, the cold fingers of death reaching for me.
In my final moments, I thought of my family, of the people I loved. Their faces flashed before me, a fleeting collage of memories and emotions. I wanted to tell them I loved them, that I was sorry for everything. But the words wouldn't come. My voice was lost, swallowed by the earth.
As the last shovelful of dirt fell, the world went black. The rain continued to fall, a mournful symphony to accompany my silent screams. And somewhere above, the storm raged on, indifferent to the life it had claimed.
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The TV screen flickered, the image shifting to a grim-faced news anchor. The headline scrolling across the bottom read: "Body Found Buried Alive: Victim Identified as Zen ****."
"We interrupt our regular programming to bring you this breaking news," the anchor said, his voice grave. "The body of Zen ****, a local woman who had been missing for several days, has been discovered buried in a shallow grave. Authorities believe she was buried alive."
The scene cut to footage of the crime scene, police officers and forensic teams moving about in the pouring rain. The camera zoomed in on the grave, now surrounded by yellow tape and floodlights. The mud was churned up, the earth disturbed where they had dug her out.
"Zen's body was found earlier today after an anonymous tip led police to the location," the anchor continued. "She had been reported missing by friends and family, who had been desperately searching for her. The investigation is ongoing, but sources close to the case suggest that foul play is suspected."
The screen shifted again, this time to a photograph of me, smiling and full of life. The contrast between the image and the grim reality of my fate was jarring.
"Zen was a beloved member of the community, known for her kindness and resilience," the anchor said. "Her tragic death has left many in shock and mourning. Authorities are urging anyone with information to come forward."
The camera returned to the anchor, his expression somber. "Our thoughts and prayers are with Zen's family and friends during this difficult time. We will continue to follow this story as more details emerge. Stay tuned for further updates."
The screen faded to black, the news segment over. But the image of the grave, the rain-soaked earth, and the lifeless body they had pulled from it lingered in the minds of viewers. The story of Zen , a woman who had fought against the darkness and paid the ultimate price, would not be forgotten.
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