Short Creepy Stories

They Buried The Wrong Body

An earthy smell seeps through the wooden boards and protrudes my nostrils as my eyes abruptly open. I take a sharp inhale of breath, coughing and groaning as I hit my head on a hard surface. My eyes, aided by the slightest bit of light exposed through the cracks of the wood, adjust to the darkness.

My body is clothed in an uncomfortable, formal suit, and my arms lay crossed over my chest. I feel the metallic rings on my fingers and a necklace brush against my neck as I move my head.

The muffled sobs and quiet voices steal my attention. I hear the undeniable voice of a funeral officiant as he speaks praise on my name. Panic begins to set in as the situation takes hold in my mind. I'm being buried alive.

I begin to scream incoherently, coughing as dirt is thrown onto my claustrophobic prison, falling through the cracked wood lid and onto my face. The muffled voices become distant and quieter as pile after pile of damp soil is thrown on top of me. On top of my coffin.

I pushed on the lid, shutting my eyes as more dirt fell onto my face. I screamed again. I screamed until my voice was hoarse, until my throat burned, and I had no more tears left in my eyes.

Soon, more dirt fell on top of me, the voices becoming distant and quieter. It was hard to breathe. I couldn't even cry or scream. There was no use in either. I could hear the barely audible voices begin to leave along with my sight as the darkness took hold of me. My chest raised in shallow breaths as I silently begged for more air, for those who buried me to realize their mistake, for someone to rescue me. My last thoughts were that of despair.