February 11, 1792 – Sydney

     My eyes open but there is nothing to see, only the boards of a not very well crafted coffin. Someone must have been in a hurry to finish it. The smell of dirt and rot caress my nostrils as I lie still, thinking of the humans that put me here. They were fools to think a box like this could contain a monster like me for long. They will think differently when I take my revenge.

     I feel the night covering the six feet of earth above me and press against the chains that are wrapped around me. The metal snaps and separates easily enough. My fingers graze the rough wood above my abdomen, feeling the fibers prick at my skin. Then in one quick motion, I slam my fist through the boards and dirt pours in on me. I let it fill the coffin for a moment before I rip the opening larger. I crawl out, through the loosely-packed soil until my hand bursts through the grass and I feel the breeze on my fingers. I pull myself out of the ground and brush off the dirt from my shoulders. Looking over, I see the grave digger staring with wide eyes. Giving him a twisted smile, I walk away into the night.