So this is my first time writing for something other than Kung Fu Panda. I had originally intended on fitting something like this into my KFP story but I thought it would be too similar to this scene in Kill Bill. But I still had this weird urge to describe this scene. So I decided to just do it for Kill Bill instead.
Hope you like it.
It had been nearly 5 minutes since she had heard the last of the dirt fall into the hole. It started off as a loud cascade against the make-shift coffin's lid, but the sound slowly dulled till nothing was audible.
What does that leave me? 40 minutes to live.
She left the flash light off. Somehow the perpetual darkness was better. The light showed the reality of her surroundings. If she thought hard enough she could be lying on the ground in an open field, or on a beach. But then her foot would extend a few inches, feel the wooden wall and immediately sink back into claustrophobia.
They had barely exchanged 10 conversations with each other previously during their years in the Deadly Vipers. If not for Bill she probably wouldn't have even paid him much attention. She always thought she had underestimated him. He had been the only one other than Bill to lay his hands on a Hanzo sword. Now he had hers.
Goddamit! you're gonna let that fat bastard do you in!? He practically made you watch them dig your own grave! He made you just lie there and take it. For God's sake he spat on your face!
He never did like playing by the rules.
She had heard the lid flexing under the pressure. The box, she knew, was far from being a legitimate coffin. She wondered if the whole box would collapse under the weight of the dirt before she had a chance to pass out.
Either way it was death sure.
So this is how it was going to end? She was going to die without anyone knowing where she was. No one would ever know. Who would ever dig up a grave that was seemingly undisturbed to discover the orignal occupant wasn't there anymore?
No one in the next half hour. That's all that was important.
I hope Paula Shultz is happy wherever they dump her remains.
So this is what it means to be 6 feet under.
She was only six feet away from freedom. Lord, what a difference those six feet meant. There could be people walking around just six feet above her and they wouldn't even know. Actually the box was about a foot and a half tall. So there was only 4 and a half feet of dirt above.
Some how that foot and a half made a difference psychologically
You fought off nearly 88 skilled swordsman and finished off the first two on your list but you're gonna let some wood and dirt hold you back.
That's all it was
Wood and dirt.
Wood that was already losing strength against the load of dirt.
Ok, ok, so there's different things I could do.
* Accept death and lie here running out of oxygen.
* Accept death and wait for the coffin to fall to pieces and crush you
* Or try to break through the coffin, face the dirt, and have a one in a million chance at surviving.
One in a million was better than nothing.
The flash light clicked on
First things first
After a bit of wriggling she loosed the boot off her foot where she had concealed the last knife that Budd hadn't removed from her.
After a bit of grit and rubbing she was able to cut her bonds loose. She showed her gratitude to the knife and stuck it away in her pocket. She would need her hands free for what was to come next.
Now comes the hard part.
She felt the lid for any weak spots. Like checking for studs, she pounded on the wood listening for a sound that registered right till finally...
That's the right spot
She lied back readying herself. It would be just like Pai Mai's grueling exercises. What's the difference?
The difference is that there's about 600 pounds of dirt on the other side that's dying to crush you.
"Ok Pai Mai, here I come."
She clenched her fist tight till she heard her knuckles crack.
She struck the wood with all her might.
It flexed but only a little.
God, that first one hurt
Now for another
Hope I'm not too rusty at this.
The wood was quickly being coated in blood.
Was that a crack
No mistaking now. It was a definite crack.
And it's getting bigger
Bloody knuckles were colliding with splintering wood.
But there was no turning back now.
Dirt spitted out the widening crack.
Take a deep breath Hopefully not the last and…
Dirt poured over her face flooding the inside of the box. She broke off a chunk of wood with her hands and pulled herself up fighting against the massive waterfall of dirt pushing down on her.
She let the flashlight fall from her hand.
She had managed to get her torso out of the coffin, now she stood from the floor of the coffin pushing with all her might against the dirt.
It was dark once more.
She was clawing at anything with in reach. Reaching above her for anything. It can't be that far away. You can't quit now. You're so close! The earth was trying to bring her down. To keep her down. She was making space for her to move shoveling dirt out of her way, but the second she cleared one space it quickly refilled it's occupancy.
Oh God! it was worse than the box.
The slightest move was impossible. Dirt was so tight around it could have been water.
Her hand had broken the surface.
Suddenly the dirt around her began to recede into the open space of the coffin creating a sink hole beneath her. She grabbed the loose ground above her and pulled with what little strength she had left.
Her head had surfaced and she was finally able to take in air. The dirt around her recede more and she fought to stay above the ground. She reached out till she was clenching handfuls of grass for a firm hold. She pulled till her legs were free of the dirt and she lied back down in the stillness of the night amongst all the tombstones that stood witness to her literal and figurative defying of death.
She had made it.
"Now for you, Budd"
Hope you liked it.
Reviews are appreciated