The Steel Oath

Chapter 1 | The Cold Embrace of Death

"If you sacrifice your principles for victory, you don't end up with victory, and you don't end up with principles." 

-Benjamin Aaron Shapiro

Ben thought himself a normal man. Well, as normal as any man could be after graduating high school at the top of his class and going on to be one of the greatest minds of his generation.  This wasn't hubris, this was simply a fact. He had gone to Harvard, and spent a good portion of his adult life battling against the hypocrisies of feeble minded sheep. He was a good man, with a wife and daughter that he loved to death. This didn't seem to matter to the car barreling at him at 70 miles per hour. 

The first thing he thought when waking up was dirt. That was most likely because his mouth was full of it. He sputtered and spit out the soft earth, rising with a start. Where was he? He was in pitch black darkness. He felt cramped. Cold. Isolated. He reached his arms out to stretch only to hit a solid mass. He felt along its grains and fibers. Wood. "A coffin." Ben muttered to himself.  He was unbelievably bewildered, but his honed and focused mind didn't waste any time directing him to push on the coffin. The thing wouldn't budge. That wouldn't be any good anyway if I'm buried too deep underground. So Ben did what he did best. He started thinking. 

He began holding his breath in long, deep bursts. This would allow him to monopolize the air for up to two hours. He reassessed the wood above him, this time checking the corners. There has to be some reason there aren't any hinges. And why is this thing so heavy? Then it hit him. I must be lying sideways. He readjusted himself quickly and soon located the hinges. He made quick work of them with his pocketknife. He could feel the pine straining under the pressure of the dirt without the hinges there. But he had an answer for this as well. He tore off his gray button-down shirt, tying one end into a knot so that it resembled a bag. He put it above his head, slowly pushing the pine plank up as he adjusted himself to sitting position. The dirt started piling in, and Ben readjusted to start pushing on the plank with his feet as the dirt continued to flood into the coffin. He used his hands to push it to the sides. He slowly rose through the ground, clawing away at the earth. He burst out of the shallow grave in less than ten minutes.