Page 83 of Foxy Filthy Omega

All I had to do was get out of here, just like the last time.

I looked up and saw the green leaves swaying in the breeze, promising me I wouldn’t be buried alive again if I could haul ass out of here.

Driving my knife into the dirt, I used that to pull myself up and reach for one of the roots but when I pushed up with my foot, my leg gave out.

Now my whole body was shaking. I was about to really feel the full scope of the terror and panic I was ignoring and I needed to get the fuck out of here before that happened.

Something was wrong with my leg, but that didn’t matter. I had to get out. I managed it last time. I could do it again.

I reached down and grabbed the knife in my boot, ignoring the spongy sensation underneath me as best as I could.

Driving one knife into the wall, and then the other, I climbed up, using only my upper body to pull myself higher and higher.

“James?”

That voice was familiar, but I couldn’t call out and ask for his help. If I didn’t get out of here on my own…I’d deserve everything they did to me.

One foot and then another.

“James?” He sounded worried now, but I was almost there.

Almost there.

My knife sunk into the top layer of dirt and I tested it before pulling, not wanting to undo all my hard work.

But I was starting to get dizzy.

I rested my forehead against the dirt wall and took in a shallow breath, feeling my stomach turn despite how careful I was being.

Nausea was building and I didn’t know if I could resist it this time.

I needed to get out of here.

Now.

Swinging my legs up, I pressed my foot to the opposite wall and shoved as hard as I could, pulling myself up at the same time.

“James!” Soren appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my wrist, pulling me over the edge of the hole.

We tumbled right into the ghostbeard plant, his words nothing but nonsense when my ears started ringing. It got louder and louder, buzzing until I thought my head would explode.

I pushed away from Soren and stared down into the hole, wondering if I’d made it all up but no, that was a hand. Her fingers still looked long and delicate with bright blue nail polish on her nails.

Oh god. I’d been down there. Just like last time. Buried with the dead in an unmarked grave.

Nothing more than trash.

My stomach lurched, but the spongy sensation and the smell lingered—I ripped my jacket off and threw it as far away from me as I could.

It felt like the smell was seeping into my skin.

I ripped my harness and tank top off next and then stood, but my leg gave out again.

“James! Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Soren grabbed me but I shoved him back, away from the hole, and me.

I leaned over and puked my guts out, the bile triggering me just as much as the smell of putrefied flesh. I heaved in air even though it was the last thing I wanted right now.

All I could smell was sweet, rotting chicken.

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