There's another shift, oh god, he feels it narrowing around him, he can't move, can't even breathe, no, no - he squirms desperately, trying to force his way out; he comes free and staggers forward just as the walls snap together behind him, leaving him gasping, braced against another architectural morass. Too close. Too fucking close.
Something shifts behind him, and he jerks away in preemptive fear, but it's different - the wood is stretching now, horrible sounds like the creaking of bones, stretching to open up a tunnel.
"Seth?" He leans forward, peering uneasily through the gap. It's like a tunnel, barely big enough for his body to fit through. But he sees someone on the other side, hunched and shadowy in the darkness. The lights are all gone, the only illumination coming through what remains of the windows.
"Seth - don't move. I'm coming." God, oh god, he doesn't want to go in there. But he has to. He feels nauseated even thinking about it, but he has to. He hoists himself up and into the little space and tries to crawl through by wriggling awkwardly along. Oh god, everything's so close. He can almost feel the full weight of the house pressing down on his back. Please, please, please, let it stay open. Let Seth have enough control that he keeps it open.
He's almost to the end of it when he can't move any further; it's gotten to tight, and he can't go forward, his fingers barely able to reach the edge. God, no, no, no, no. He tries to scoot backward, but he can't do that either; he's trapped in his little coffin. It's everything he can do not to scream or faint.
"Seth," he begs, reaching uselessly. "I can't get out. You have to open it a little wider, Seth, please. Help me." His voice cracks; he feels the sting of tears, blurring his already inadequate vision. "Please, Seth, please don't let me die."
TW for major claustrophobia
Something shifts behind him, and he jerks away in preemptive fear, but it's different - the wood is stretching now, horrible sounds like the creaking of bones, stretching to open up a tunnel.
"Seth?" He leans forward, peering uneasily through the gap. It's like a tunnel, barely big enough for his body to fit through. But he sees someone on the other side, hunched and shadowy in the darkness. The lights are all gone, the only illumination coming through what remains of the windows.
"Seth - don't move. I'm coming." God, oh god, he doesn't want to go in there. But he has to. He feels nauseated even thinking about it, but he has to. He hoists himself up and into the little space and tries to crawl through by wriggling awkwardly along. Oh god, everything's so close. He can almost feel the full weight of the house pressing down on his back. Please, please, please, let it stay open. Let Seth have enough control that he keeps it open.
He's almost to the end of it when he can't move any further; it's gotten to tight, and he can't go forward, his fingers barely able to reach the edge. God, no, no, no, no. He tries to scoot backward, but he can't do that either; he's trapped in his little coffin. It's everything he can do not to scream or faint.
"Seth," he begs, reaching uselessly. "I can't get out. You have to open it a little wider, Seth, please. Help me." His voice cracks; he feels the sting of tears, blurring his already inadequate vision. "Please, Seth, please don't let me die."