He woke up in the cold. An atmosphere of stale, freezing air. It felt like he had been in a sealed container for ages, breathing in his own stench over and over. 

The instant he opened his eyes, dust poured into them, forcing them to slam shut. He was forced to rely on his other senses to take in his surroundings. Already they seemed to be less than pleasant. Trying to ease his way around, he realised there was little space to do so. Everything seemed stiff and rugged like he needed oil for his joints. His hands manage to obey him, following along the sides to find jagged walls at both sides. Under, he took notice of the splinters poking at the skin on his back.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" Aiden struggled to let out a scream. His lungs and throat were just as dusty as the box he was trapped in. Dirt poured down onto his face through the cracks coughing him to cough aggressively, making even more fall.

Trapped inside a wooden box with dust pouring down. Odd series of events. Unless it was not dust, but rather, dirt and someone was foolish enough to bury him alive. Who would do such a cruel thing? Still, worrying about such measly things is futile. He needed to find a way out of his predicament.

Allowing his hands to roam the wood above, he took notice of weaker boards and many holes embedded in them.

How long has he been down here? With the size of this interior, he would be out of oxygen and dead in less than three hours even while sleeping.

Luckily, the wood was weak enough to break if he applied enough pressure. Even if he did that however, there was nothing to stop the dirt from filling the coffin and suffocating him. Its either he breaks it and makes his way up before he suffocates or prays that someone above can hear him. 

"If you want something done, you must do it yourself."

There had to be a way to get out before there was no more oxygen. A safe way that wouldn't leave him buried in the earth.

Thinking it through, the best option was to break a hole to the centre and push the dirt beneath him. There would have to be a second hole directly above him however so he could force his way to the outside, through the remaining dirt. Unfortunately, there was the problem of his limbs being extremely stiff. It would be difficult to push through with his legs and arms barely operational. Even his spine felt as though it had never bent before. 

Such a feat would be challenging with these factors present. Never the less, there was no telling how much air he had left. Now or never.

One more thing, something had to be done so he could breathe through the dirt. He did not understand how deep he layed under under the earth; though from the slight dent in the coffin, it must not be that deep. The deeper the box, the more pressure the soil would exert. 

Struggling to remove his shirt without excessively hitting the walls, he got the fabric off. Dirt continued to trickle down on his body with every movement.

After proceeding to tie it around his face, he prayed it was enough. He couldn't see what he was doing, so it was all out of instinct right now. All he could do was punch the box repeatedly and hope he would make it out alive. 

It didn't take a lot before he heard a snap, allowing the feeling of dirt pouring down on his legs. He ignored the burning sensation on his knuckles, moving quickly to make the opening bigger. More soil replaced the oxygen. He had to move swiftly to sweep everything under his body. There was not a lot of space remaining. If he didn't act now, he would certainly get buried alive once again. 

Now. 

He made another two punches to create a hole right above him, the pressure of the soil instantly overwhelming him. No time to stop, however. He needed to move. Grabbing onto the loose boards, they broke off under his influence, making a hole big enough for his shoulders.

One big breath, take in everything you can.

Worming your way through the earth with a shirt wrapped around his face as a breathing instrument was not something he would recommend. His hand shot up into the open air first. Feeling the wind gently brush against it was exhilarating. The possibility stands that if he was placed two feet deeper he wouldnt have made it.

"Ahhh." He got his head out next. Then his torso and finally his legs. 

Tearing off the shirt, the boy coughed up the remaining dirt from his experience, observing the environment. Everything was hazy, a mix of greens and neutrals that plagued his vision. A stench of rotting wet moss becoming known to him instantly. When his vision focused, he caught sight of the trees growing in every which direction. They took up more space on the wet ground than the grass did. Birds screeched from up above, throwing twigs. down to litter the floor. Who would burry someone in the forest? Not only, but one with soil as wet as this. 

Why did it seem as if those trees were not meant to be there? 

The soil from where he clawed his way out had grass growing right above it. He hadn't been down there for hours. Grass cannot grow in an hour, neither can trees. Then how did he survive for so long in a creaky wooden box?

It was impossible for a human being to have been buried for that long and remain alive.

Who buried him? Where were they? Why did they bury him?

Not knowing the answers to these questions sent a frightening feeling down his spine. One that matched the sensation running through him. Alone in a dark forest, wet and dehydrated with no answer as to where exactly he was. 

He had no reason to stay here and be a slave to the environment. However, there had to have been someone around.

Forcing himself off the ground, his legs struggled to keep him upright. They were still half asleep, but they could do their job. Finding that the pants covering them were untouched, like the shirt lying on the ground. Wouldn't insects have consumed his body and clothes?

His first attempt to get off the ground ended with him plunging to the ground head first. It took everything for his body to not succumb to the tiredness and lay there forever. He just wanted to rest. Close his eyes and never open them again. But something else was there alongside him, pushing his body off the ground every time it fell down. 

...

For a boy with no sense of time or direction, he couldn't answer how long he had been walking or whether it was north or east. To him, it was just moving until there was no more forest. The woods had stopped in its tracts to allow an enormous black road with white lines dividing it in two. It ran for ages in both directions, possessing white lines at the centre to divide it in two.

Before he could decide, a bright light nearly blinded him, growing immensely from the distance. Whatever it was produced a sound unknown to his ears. Similar to one of a loud hummingbird. Not one that scared him but intrigued him to investigate.

"Are you okay there sweetie?" a woman's voice sounded from beyond the bright light.

Once it faded, the boy saw a metal beast standing before him. He near jumped at its sudden appearance. Was this what caused the light and made the noise? Yet it was even shorter than him. Inside was the woman the voice belonged to, her long blond hair tied to the back of her tiny head. Her clothes looked funny. 

She was sure to be cold wearing such little fabric. Even he was cold in this suit. 

"Are you okay?" she even talked funny.

"Are you speaking to me madam?" he questioned still struggling with his dusty throat.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"I-I" he wondered what to say to the amiable lady. He was not in pain but he could use her assistance "Ma'am, do you know where I can get some water? Or possibly where the town is?"

"Ummmm yeah, just up ahead," her eyebrows furrowed "Where are you from?"

"I think I am from -" Where was he from? He just woke up in that coffin without an idea of where he was going. His memory seemed fuzzy, no matter how much reaching he did for the answer, nothing came of it. Instead he felt significant pain from trying "I don't know."

"Okay, that's fine, I'll take you to the town to get you some help. You look cold."

She leaned over to the back of the machine — one had to assume was some sort of vehicle. Soon the backside of the vehicle slowly flung open like a door. The woman told him to come inside and not wanting to be rude for her help; he sat down on the inside, closing the door.

It felt weird to see the organs of such a beast but she seemed to be comfortable grabbing onto to the steering wheel. It was a vehicle, but he was unfamiliar to most of its parts. All he could recognise was the wheel and seats. He had no reason to believe this lady would bring him any harm, so he allowed himself to relax into the seat. He almost didn't notice that they had started to move. 

Still, there was a feeling just under his fingertips. One that caused them to burn immensely. It felt wrong. 

"What's your name dear?" her high-pitched voice asked him from the front.

Confused, he thought about it. All he knew was it began with an A. He heard someone say it before. Recently, he assumed. 

'Aiden' he remembered it being repeated to him by another feminine voice.

"Aiden I believe," he responded.

"Okay, Aiden it's nice to meet you. What was such a nice boy like you doing walking through the woods so late at night? Not to mention your suit? Was there a spook-tacular party in the forest I didn't know about?"

Was it wise to tell this woman that he had woken up in a coffin and crawled his way out? She had been more than courteous to him. No need to lie to her. 

"I awoke underground in a wooden coffin. I believed someone buried me alive on accident. I managed to make my way through the soil and walked through the forest until I stopped at the road." he explained.

"OH MY GOD!! Someone buried you alive? WE NEED TO CALL THE POLICE!!"

He flinched at the rise in her voice. 

"Don't hurt me!" he started shaking, feeling his heart increase tremendously. What's happening to him? She didn't mean to yell at him, it's not her fault. It's his fault!

Everything started to burn. His skin radiated a heat he never felt before, searing from the inside. There was sweat racing down his chest as his heart raced. He doesn't want to get hurt. He can't control it. He can't control his heartbeat. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see hints of red and yellow, a burning sensation filling the inside of the machine, consuming him. 

What was going on?

He had to protect her. 

On reflex he leapt to the front of the car, clutching hold of her before everything turned scarlet. The last thing he heard in the chaos was her ear shattering scream being muffled within his chest. Then a loud 'BOOM!' that left his ears ringing.