Gromet's PlazaMummification Stories

The Cliff and the Berry

by Darkraptor1

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© Copyright 2011 - Darkraptor1 - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/m+; prison; cell; cuffs; transport; wrap; tape; cocoon; buried; cons/nc; XX

It was a beautiful spring day; the type only seen once a year.  The sun was shining it’s warmth onto the earth, and the sky was a bright, cheerful blue, with clouds slowly going through the sky, casting gentle shades upon the trees.

It was a beautiful day to be buried alive.

***

On the outskirts of a local city, there was a prison, dark and dreary in comparison to the beauty of nature.  Dull grey concrete composed its foundation, housing within thousands who had been locked away from society, almost all of them political prisoners, who’s only crime had been to disagree with the government.  

On this beautiful spring day, they were about to be removed from society permanently.

Inside one of the deepest cell blocks, there were many inmates who nervously watched the clocks.  It was only a few minutes after nine, which mean that their jailers would be coming along at any moment.  

Those locked within the cells were quiet and solemn, many of them having knew this day was coming for a long time; others had only been here for a week, or in same cases, less then a day.  But all of them shared one grim fact…today was the day when the government would bury them alive.

Their wait was short, for a few minutes later, an entire pack of guards, dressed in riot gear, arrived, ready to extract the prisoners from their cells.  A squad went to each cell, waiting for the moment when the doors would be opened, at which point they would rush inside, tackling the prisoners to the ground, where they would be handcuffed and shackled, then removed.

Within the cells, the inmates glared at their jailers…some defiant, some angry, others sad.

But there was one inmate who had a much different proposition.

“Oh, good morning!”

Within cell 630, one of the prisoners, Clarence, was looking himself over in the mirror.  “Be with you in just a moment,” he said.  “Got a little dirt here I want to clean off.”

“Inmate Clarence, lay on the ground.”

A quick wipe of his face with a cloth, and he was done.  

“Okay there.  Lying down now.”

He lay down on the hard concrete floor, putting his arms behind his waist, and his ankles together.

“There we go.  Is that good?”

The guards outside his cell looked at each other, unsure of what was going on.

“Am I too tense?  Or is there another pose you’d rather have me in?”

The cell door opened, and the guards went in.

“Oh, no need to rush,” Clarence said.  “I’m not going anywhere, not going to fight.  Just try not to break my spine, please?  That would hurt.”

The guards knelt, took the handcuffs and shackles, applied them.

“Is the double lock on?” Clarence asked as the cuffs were tightened.  “I’d rather not have them pinch my skin like last time.”

With the cuffs applied, Clarence was lifted to his feet.  Once up, he looked around, smiling.  “All right then.  Point the way.  Or should I just follow the others?”

The guards looked at each other, wondering if their prisoner had lost his mind.

“Ah, I guess its just follow the others then.  Oh, if any of you want my books, you’re welcome to have them.  Same goes for my toothbrush, though I’m not sure who’d want those.”

Without waiting for orders from the guards, Clarence got in line with the other inmates, and followed them as they started out of the cell block, heading through the prison to the waiting transport van.  

The other prisoners shuffled as they walked, but Clarence, being all the way at the back, cheerfully hummed and skipped slightly as they walked past other cells.

“I must say, it feels nice to be leaving this place!” he said.  “So dreary and colorless.  It could use a new coat of paint; maybe some nice green…or possibly pink.  You know, I think pink has been shown to reduce violent tendencies and outbreaks when applied to jail cells.  That might help here.”

His closest guard eyed him.  “If this is some sort of trick to-”

“Oh, I assure you, no tricks.  Nothing of the sort.”

They reached the prison entrance, and the van.  One by one, the prisoners were marched on, where they were then shackled and belted to their seats, ensuring that they wouldn’t be getting loose on their final trip.

“Opps, pardon me, coming through,” Clarence said, maneuvering his way towards the seat.  “Just want to get a window seat.  Ah, there we go.”  He sat down, patiently waited while the guards strapped him in.  

“Oh, I don’t think this is tight enough,” he told the guard, who looked at him in surprise.

“What?”

“The seat restraints, they aren’t tight enough.  I think they could be tightened just a little bit more, for safety’s sake.”

For a moment the guard looked at Clarence, as if trying to figure out if this was a trick or not.

Clarence indicated his arms, which were set into grooves embedded in the seat.  “Look, I can’t use my arms, and my legs are tied down.  Couldn’t hurt you even if I wanted to.”

Cautious, the guard leaned over, tightened the restraints.

“There we go.”

The guard, eying Clarence, sat in the seat across from him, keeping a finger on his gun.  

A few minutes after the last prisoner was restrained, the van started off, followed by police cars both in front and behind, taking all precautions to ensure that nobody would escape from this ride.

“Wow,” Clarence said, looking out the window.  “This countryside is beautiful.”

***

They reached their destination an hour later…a large and empty field, long abandoned, surrounded by a fence, with construction equipment and vehicles outside. 

The gates were swung open as the van drove in, the police cruisers following.  As they parked, those inside the van saw a tunneling machine that was hard at work, digging deep holes in the ground that were just wide enough for someone to fit inside.

There was no doubt as to what was going to happen with those holes.

“Well,” Clarence scoffed as he was unlatched from the seat and brought out.  “They could have chosen a nicer location for this place.”

“That’s because it’s going to be turned into a parking lot,” one of the guards said.  “They’re going to pave this area over and turn it into a parking lot for a nearby shopping mall.”

“Oh.  Well, that explains it.  Though I must say, I think an amusement park would work better.  Much more cheerful and upbeat.”

The prisoners were marched towards the holes, and made to stand before them.  While two guards stood watch on both sides of each prisoner, two other guards unloaded several boxes from the bus, and opened them up, taking out several rolls of duct tape from each box.  With there being several dozen boxes, it became increasingly clear what they were going to do with them.

“Why the tape?” Clarence asked.  

“To compress you all,” his guard said, relishing being able to describe all the details.  “The higher ups seem to enjoy watching their prisoners be taped up.”

“Ah,” Clarence said.  Then, after a moment, “Do you think they’re kinky?”

“What?”

“It sounds to me like they’re using this as an excuse to indulge in their interests.”

The guard stared at Clarence, struck by the question.  He had never been asked it before.  “Well…I don’t know.  It’s not my job to ask questions.”

“I know.  Just seems like the logical answer to me.

The guards with the tape came over, breaking off to head towards each prisoner, all of whom were quickly stripped naked, their jumpsuits and cuffs tossed aside.  The prisoners could have tried to flee, but being flanked by guards and surrounded by police, there was nowhere they could run to.  

Quickly and methodically, the guards began to wrap the duct tape around their bodies in a quick, decisive pattern, taking care not to leave a single inch of skin uncovered.  But the objective was not to make the prisoners look nice, but to ensure that they couldn’t move, and that their bodies were as compressed as possible.

“Look, I know this is your job,” Clarence said as his arms to moved to his sides and held in place while tape went over them.  “But this is a bit tight.”

“So?”

“Well, it’s quite uncomfortable.  I’d like to be able to breathe.”

“In about an hour or so, you won’t need to.”

“I’m fully aware of that,” Clarence said, the tape reaching his elbows.  “But if you must wrap like this, then I concede to it.”

The wrapping continued.  One layer, then two, and then a third one, the tape glistening in the sunshine, going tighter and tighter as the guards worked to complete their task, until every prisoner was tightly bound and compressed, wrapped like mummies; unable to use their arms or legs.  Unable to move at all, they had to be had to be held up to avoid falling over.

As the guards worked to complete the wrapping, they began to cover the prisoner’s faces, sealing away their eyes, mouths, and noses.  It was here that the prisoners began to break down, as their faces were covered over, sealing them away from the warm sun, and into never-ending darkness.

“Oh, can I have a last request?” Clarence asked, as the tape was around his head.

The guard paused.  “What?”

“Could you leave my eyes clear?  It’s such a beautiful day out, and I’d love to watch the sky.  Would be a pity to end my life without watching it one last time.”

The guard considered, then nodded to the others.  They wrapped around Clarence’s mouth, nose, and ears, but kept his eyes clear.  

No longer able to speak, Clarence nevertheless was obviously delighted at having his request granted.  He took full advantage of it by looking up at the sky, admiring the crisp blue, and the clouds drifting through it as more tape was wrapped around his head and body, smoothing out any wrinkles that still remained.

When the taping and mummification of every prisoner was complete, the guards picked them up and lowered them into the holes.  It was a tight fit for all, mud and dirt scraping against tape.  

One by one, they were all pushed into their graves, until they were left a good three feet beneath the surface.

From there, with machine like precision, the tunneling machine was driven towards each hole, and it’s drill turned to reverse.  Where it had taken dirt from the ground, it now poured it into each hole, burying each prisoner, until they were covered, and the ground smoothed out.

Hole by hole, prisoner by prisoner, the step was repeated, and one by one, the prisoners were buried.

Eventually, only Clarence was left.  Like all the others, he was in his hole, looking up at the sky.  Even now, at the very end, he was enjoying the view, glad for one final look.

Before the dirt went in, his guard looked down, and saw that underneath the tape, there was a smile on his face.

Then the dirt was poured in, and Clarence disappeared, buried under the dirt and the mud.  

With the hole filled, shovels were beaten down, smoothing it out, making it indistinguishable from the other graves.  

The other guards started off towards the van, ready to head back to get more inmates, while the tunneling machine went to work on the next batch of graves.  Clarance’s guard would have normally followed, but he stayed at his charge’s grave for a few moments longer, looking down on it.  There was no sign of movement, no sign that there was a still living person buried a few feet below him.

And yet…the guard had never met someone like Clarence.  He had put many prisoners in the ground, getting rid of them.  And yet, he had never once come across one as cheerful as Clarence.  

His name was called, and the guard left, heading back to the van, leaving the graves to themselves under the bright sky.

***

Once, a Buddhist monk was chased by tigers, and eventually was trapped on a cliff, and about to die.  But at his last moments, he found a berry growing on the cliff, and was able to enjoy it.  

No matter where we are in life, we can always look on the bright side of life, and enjoy the little things that come our way.

 

09.03.11

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