Trapped in a Coffin at Their Wedding

As the dirt piled onto the coffin lid, I realized that my lungs weren't the first thing to suffer from being buried alive. It was my ears.

I could still hear everything outside clearly.

I could hear the guests cheering and laughing, the host hyping up the crowd, the livestream gift notifications, and Clara Quinton's impatient voice.

"Sam, give it up. Just admit that you're wrong, and I'll have them dig you out."

Kevin Irwin sighed. "Clara, forget it. I don't want Sam to hate me."

Clara's tone immediately softened. "What right does he have to hate you?

"If it weren't for him, you never would have gone abroad alone. You never would have gotten into that accident on the way to the airport and nearly crippled your right hand."

I curled up inside the coffin and frantically felt around me. Then, I heard a faint breathing sound from below.

I followed the sound and finally felt a loose wooden panel.

"Max?" I called out.

Nobody answered, but the faint breathing was still there.

My son, Max Trout, was five years old.

That morning, the court had awarded me custody of Max.

I bought Max a new pair of sneakers and planned to have one last talk with Clara before the wedding.

I wanted to tell her that I wasn't the one who forced Kevin to go abroad back then. Kevin had taken three million dollars from Clara's mother, Ruby Olson, and signed an agreement to end their engagement.

I also wanted to tell her that Max didn't want to go home with her.

If she insisted on a divorce, I would take Max to Southville, and I wouldn't make a scene or bother her again.

But as it turned out, she didn't give me a chance to speak to her. Instead, she put me in a coffin.

I also hadn't expected someone to hide Max in a secret compartment beneath the coffin. He was supposed to be waiting for me in the lounge.

The air inside the coffin was running out.

I felt around the inside of the coffin and found a hidden latch. As I was about to press it, a tiny white light suddenly lit up at the bottom of the coffin.

The light cast onto the coffin wall slowly took the shape of an old woman dressed in black.

It was the spiritual medium.

Three days ago, when I came to find Clara at the cultural village, I had stopped to help her by the roadside.

She gave me a red string bracelet and said, "Young man, do not touch the mahogany coffin.

"The coffin doesn't care about weddings. It only recognizes the person who seals it. Whoever seals a living person inside and buries them becomes the one who owes the debt."

At the time, I thought she was just some eccentric old woman talking nonsense.

Now, the red string had snapped around my wrist. It looked like a dried streak of blood.

The medium looked up at me. "Don't press it. The latch is connected to the wooden spikes beneath the coffin.

"You can get out, but the spikes will pierce the child in the secret compartment."

My hand froze.

Clara was still counting down outside.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

She was waiting for me to give in and admit to something I hadn't done. She wanted to turn my confession into a headline for her wedding with Kevin.

The sound of footsteps gradually approached.

Kevin's voice came through the coffin lid, so softly that only I could hear him. "Sam, I was the one who had Max brought here.

"He saw me talking to the owner of the cultural village about the ventilation hose and insisted on telling Clara. How do you think Clara will react when she finds out that she buried her own son? Will she lose it?"

I pounded on the coffin lid. "Kevin!"

He laughed. "Stop yelling. The livestream audio has already been turned off. Even if you both die here, no one will believe I had anything to do with it."

I slammed my shoulder against the coffin wall, but it didn't budge.

The medium looked at me. "When a living person enters a cursed coffin, a life must be left behind.

"Do you want to save yourself, or do you want to give the child a chance to be reborn?"

My breathing grew more labored.

"Can Max survive?" I asked.

"His body has been trapped at the bottom of the coffin too long. It's too late to save him. But if you sacrifice your life, you can save his soul." The coin in the medium's hand froze in midair. "But you will die."

I bent down to shield the hidden compartment and closed my eyes. "Save my son."

As the last bit of air ran out, I heard Clara sneer, "You're not going to say anything, Sam? How long are you going to keep this act up?"

The coin landed between my eyebrows. It was so cold that I shivered.

The medium intoned softly, "The pact is sealed. The father gives his life, and the son's soul shall find its way."

When they lifted the coffin lid, the harsh glare outside made my eyes sting.

Clara stood over the open coffin in her wedding gown, looking down at me. "Scared now?"

I wanted to answer her, but my soul had left my body.