Dirt. My lungs and nostrils are filled with dry dusty dirt. body is compacted on all sides by gravedirt bodies. Everything dark. Pressure. filthy tomb crushing me sides. I can see nothing feel only the writhing of those buried along me. They push against intensify overwhelming pressure. Pain. The bodies squirm scream filling my mouth silt. Then it someone bites into calf. Hard. Fury. Hot-blooded rage overcomes fears overcoming sanity. bite back scratching chewing way through wriggling beside Alive! Rip tear beast knows how to feed fight flee. All these instincts working pull out this dirty pit. Escape. After what feels like hours wretched contained flailing dig surface. Wiping blood grit from face that have just crawled a mass grave. Dead. It’s then realize I’m already dead. There no breath throbbing heartbeat or fatigue overexertion hunger.