Buried, I. A YAFF Muse story.


Buried, I.


It’s been twenty-three years since they buried me alive, hoping that would be enough to kill me. Today, my followers work to free me. The barrier that was cast over me has lifted thanks to a witch. I open my eyes. Grit hits them. I try to blink it away but the fall is too heavy. My followers increase their efforts.

  • The earth trembles. I smile. Soon, my children.  We will seek vengeance. Nothing will stop us. All shall bow before me, a Master. The Master.. I have ruled nations, torn down the veils of heaven. If my fool followers had not grown weak and became drunkards,/ I would not be here. I gritted my teeth. If they dared fail me this time–

Daylight cracked upon my tomb. Here I am. Ready to bring death to all who crossed me. I will regain my throne. I will bleed those who oppose me. A shovel brushes against my chest. I flinch. Careless. He will be dealt with. A mouthful of dirt silences my roar. More shovels grab at the earth. I can push one arm then another free.

“Hurry,” I shout to my followers.

In the distance, I hear horses. The enemy has arrived. I gnash my teeth together. I will break their bones.

They rush at my followers, their shots finding their targets. At last even the witch falls.

They smile as they throw dirt down upon me, their wizard already restoring the barrier. I am buried once more. I moan. I will wait. The day will come when they forget me and they’ll pay one breath at a time.



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