Cold Water Coffin

Conrad recalls his time in the void.

When I awoke there was an immeasurable darkness, immeasurable and endlessly cold. A puddle of water had formed around me in the darkness to further chill my bones, and as I felt against the wood of my coffin the sloshing water took me to the great seas of my mind. I could recall laying in a row boat in the dead of night, the thousand stars gleaming as diamonds above me, the gentle rocking of the sea setting me to sleep. I breathed in the cold salty air and felt the water with my finger tips. Below me was an entire world of darkness, filled with the nothingness of the void and the few demons that could subsist in such nothingness.

I felt much the same now, in this coffin of cold water. Below me and beyond the plywood was a world of infinite darkness, filled, itself, with nothing. Above me I could only hope for a light, a single star, a spark or flame to warm me. I was so cold, so very, very, cold. Each breath made a bubbling noise and tickled me maddeningly. I was certain I had water in my lungs, though now I was uncertain of my lungs at all. My body was of stone and seaweed, unfeeling and damp beyond its nature. Each movement felt forced and broken, like my joint had frozen and atrophied in the long sleep.

I woke them as best I could by banging against the darkness. Each thud of my fists shook loose ice from the coffin lid, and with each little speck that hit my face I screamed out. My screaming was no more powerful than a whisper, and my pounding fists and feet only shook up my agitation and desperation. I stopped, frustrated and claustrophobic, and felt for anything that could help me escape. I ran my lifeless hands along the corners and edges, the roughness of the wood turning smooth against my numbness. I felt with my shoes for anything by my feet, water churning inside them, my feet sticking against the leather.

I bent my arms against the plywood, jamming them uncomfortably to push against the lid. I remembered the row boat coming in with the tide, its grey wood illuminated by the moon. The great sea pushed it into the sand so gently I felt invited to it, but I remained seated in the sand and let the tide wash over my feet. I laid in the boat filled with hay and white furs after an age of quiet tides, endlessly rocking back and forth against the earth and sea. The boat drift away once I set my head against the furs, so gentle a departure the only signal of my leave was the movement of the stars.

Lost in the endless black sea I felt no fear, no worry, nothing but peace. I watched the water for any signs of life, or death, or any one thing other than the nothingness. I waited and watched for a hundred years until the water rippled and the nothingness manifested itself to greet me. It formed itself into a massive serpent with a dragon’s head, a silken wrap about its great snout with stars and galaxies hanging like beads from its headdress. It did not speak as it coiled up and out of the water, its mile long body twisting into a great column as it faced me.

I could see through the black veil into its black eyes, a universe of darkness and infinite knowledge within reach of my hands. I did not reach out, I did not retract. I simply listened to the sound of the void breathing before me. I woke up in the coffin at that moment, a hundred years in the void, perhaps a day in the earth. I broke from my reflection to hit the coffin one last time. The thud was met with an instant reply, a quiet voice, a man I imagined with a pleasant demeanor in a poor situation,”Hello?”

I was too shocked by the sound to act again, but fate would have it that he would speak again,” Speak or make a noise, I can’t find you otherwise.” I kicked the coffin and pounded with my fist a wave of fear and worry washing over me. “Hold on, hold on, it’s going to be okay.” I started sobbing at the sound of scrapping above me and pounded and kicked with all my might. “What’s your name? Can you speak?” I yelled as best I could between my sobbing and thrashing emotions,” Conrad, Conrad, Conrad. I am Conrad.”
I was struck silent by the light that pierced the pinewood. Before I could peer through the crack the lid was pride open and tossed away. I remained frozen with my arms crossed against my chest, my eyes straining against the dim light of a single candle. I remained silent as the man peered down on my, his rotten hand waving for another to join him. His skin was pulled from his bones, his bones which stood away from flesh or skin. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light, they too milky and damp, and rotten. “Sjin, we’ve got another one, bring the cart.” He looked down on me, his dead jaw smiling,” Everything’s going to be alright. Welcome back, Conrad.”