Black.
Endless blackness.
Su Qingyan's consciousness seemed to be sinking into the cold and bitter sea. Every breath was filled with the rotten smell of earth, filling her lungs and pressing heavily on her chest. The feeling of suffocation was like a big invisible hand strangling her throat.
Her eyes shot open.
There was still darkness in front of him that was so thick that it couldn't be dissolved.
Where is this?
She tried moving her fingers, and what she touched was rough, hard wood grain, with a moist and slippery feel. The top of the head, the soles of the feet, and the sides of the body all have this kind of touch.
A terrifying thought struck her brain like lightning.
Coffin.
She's in a coffin!
As an expert in forensic psychology in modern society, Su Qingyan's understanding of the word "death" is far beyond that of ordinary people. She has seen countless cold corpses and analyzed various bizarre causes of death. But I never thought that one day, I would become a part of the "dead".
No, that's not right. She's not dead yet!
She could clearly feel her heart beating crazily in her chest, and every beat seemed to break her ribs. My throat was as dry as if it was on fire, and every inch of my body was screaming in protest at the pain of lack of oxygen.
Calm down, Su Qingyan, calm down!
