Chapter 2: Am I Still Alive?
What...? Corven grumbled, his voice echoing into nothingness. All he could see was darkness.
"Is this the afterlife?" he muttered, brows furrowing.
A strange sensation crept over him—cramped, as if the space around him was shrinking.
He shifted slightly, then paused.
He could move.
It was subtle—just the wriggling of fingers and toes—but it was enough. The sensation wasn’t spiritual or dreamlike. It was physical.
Wood.
He felt it pressing against his back, his arms, even his face. Rough, splintery, and close.
It was like he was inside a box—a wooden box.
Lying flat on his back. Arms by his sides.
Like a corpse in a coffin.
"Am I still alive? Did I just get crushed by the shelf but somehow survive?" Corven whispered.