cromwell-scan

Burial

“Mankind has buried its dead through all of time, with the intent of affection and respect. Yet, there could be no greater disservice to those we love. The soul does not rise to the gates of Heaven or descend to the fiery pits below. Faith in the Lord leads us all to this belief, though one could never know the truth until his demise, at which point it’s too late.

“In life, it is said that God is all around us, but we forget this at death. The soul belongs where it’s best energised and stimulated, surrounded by Providence’s entire domain; we are not to be trapped beneath the ground. The coffin is Hell. The devil is darkness. Burial destroys the afterlife. Let these words serve as a warning.”

 

Exhumed

“There, in the silence of eternal night, I thought I would forever reflect on my life and ponder the path the Lord had laid forth for me. Though the body no longer lived, the soul remained, and with it, thought. And with thought, memories. And with memories, ideas. And with ideas, nothing; for they could go nowhere, never to be put into action. Thought was infinite, but forever caged with no way out…

“Then, one day, three years after interment, this existence was interrupted. The lid of my coffin was disturbed with the rustle of men struggling to pry it open. The clangs of crowbars and shovels and the grunts of these tomb desecrators echoed through the vault. Their slow progress finally gave way to rays of light peeking through as they lifted the heavy top away. There, staring into my sightless eyes, were a band of royalists plucking me from my misery. For a brief moment I felt the warmth of candlelight before being transferred into a thick, prickly burlap bag.

“I was exhumed.”