Eric Wrightson

Survey

The waking nightmare would begin again, but Alex would be prepared. Alex Simmons had no idea how they had taken him or how long he had been here. He did not care. The box was obviously meant to kill him. He lay in a riveted metal coffin, barely wide enough for his shoulders. Instead of ivory satin, though, this coffin had a concave screen, and a dim red light, a malevolent eye watching his every move. To hell with this shit, thought Alex angrily. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening for the telltale sounds.