Wade wakes up again. If he’s right, this is the 9th time. He instantly gets to work, clawing at the wooden ceiling of his coffin, not caring when his fingers splinter and bleed. It isn’t long before the lack of oxygen gets to his head, and he dies again, the air choked from his lungs.

It repeats a few more times before something changes. On the 12th time, he hears something. By the 13th, you manage to dig out enough soil to pull him out of his grave. He gasps in air, coughing out dirt and dust.