Experiencing desolation

"Is he asleep?" René looked at Heath, who was breathing rhythmically in front of him, and couldn't help muttering to Lyman.

"Don't speak! Give him some time to adjust."

Just as they were speaking, Heath opened his eyes.

Those once lively eyes now appeared dim and lifeless. His slightly distorted facial expression seemed to carry a tranquil understanding of death.

Indeed, he was still himself. Heath didn't disappoint Lyman; he portrayed a desperate and hollow expression flawlessly.

René, on the other side, was dumbfounded. He felt as if this man's eyes were looking right at him, sending shivers down his spine.

After a while, Heath rubbed his face, revealing an extremely unattractive smile. It seemed as if he had forgotten how to control the muscles in his face. "So, did I pass?"

"Without a doubt, buddy. Your performance gives me more confidence in making this movie." Lyman couldn't help but playfully remark about the breakthrough in casting.

"Huh! You're quite talented," René added, showing his admiration for the young actor.

"So, are you ready to join the crew?" Lyman asked.

"Yeah," Heath nodded slightly.

After reading the script, Heath had already told himself that he had to secure this role. A complete leading role, what could be more challenging for an actor? So, he emphasized, "Yes, sir, I'm willing to join the crew."

"Forgot to introduce myself. I'm Lyman, the director of this movie. And this is René; he'll be handling various tasks on set, such as being the script supervisor and managing the set. He's also the co-producer of this film." Lyman introduced himself and René.

"We won't deceive you; the budget for this movie isn't high, so your salary won't be very substantial, probably around three to four thousand euros. The exact amount isn't clear yet; it depends on how much is left after the shoot, minus some post-production costs, which we will pay you from."

Lyman wanted to be upfront about this matter to avoid any trouble in case they couldn't pay the actor's salary.

Heath smiled and replied, "Look, I don't have an agent, so I'm fine with the minimum union-mandated pay."

With these words, everything proceeded smoothly. Heath officially joined the cast of "Buried Alive" as the protagonist, Paul.

As an actor, Heath understood very well that if he decided to take on an independent film, his salary wouldn't be as high as his usual rate. He had mentally prepared for this before coming here.

And even though his current salary was low, he knew that it would lead to higher income in the future. That was his goal – to enter a top-notch talent agency with the help of a true leading role in a film.

"So, Lyman, when can I start working with the crew?" This was the question Heath was most eager to know after signing the contract.

"In the next couple of days. So, for now, don't leave Cannes. Our shooting location is right here." Lyman wore a relaxed smile and answered.

"I've rented a room in a nearby youth hostel. Just let me know if you need anything."

After exchanging a few more words, the three of them parted ways.

Lyman and René were going back to assemble the crew members and inform them about the shoot. Heath returned to the youth hostel.

As the night deepened, Heath sat on the bed in his hostel room, pondering the role of Paul in "Buried".

This character's emotional journey was incredibly comprehensive, far beyond just despair during panic. He had gone through the script several times, marking his insights into the character. It was something he always did.

But this wasn't enough. Paul, the protagonist, had experienced everything while being buried underground. Heath's attempts to simulate this feeling were ineffective.

Suddenly, he thought of something.

Heath walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned off the lights.

Darkness began to envelop this space of less than three square meters.

A sense of suffocation approached, as if he were trapped in a small box and running out of oxygen. Even though he was squatting in this cramped space, doing nothing, he still clearly felt his breath becoming irregular, losing its rhythm.

Heath didn't know about a psychological condition called "claustrophobia". After all, no one would be so foolish as to lock themselves in a small space without any light to test themselves for such a problem. Nevertheless, his body was faithfully revealing this situation.

His mind started to wander, and his heartbeat accelerated, making his breathing more anxious.

It was as if he were trapped in a small box, starting to run out of air.

Even the air seemed to thin out, and an invisible restraint made him involuntarily agitated. Heath was no longer satisfied with breathing through his nose; he began to gasp for air, as if he were truly starting to suffocate.

He tried to sit on the ground, shifting his position, but his lower legs began to feel numb, and before he could fully extend them, he plopped back down.

This only intensified Heath's panic. He quickly pushed the door open and pressed the light switch on the back wall.

Instantly, an orange light bathed the space once more. He leaned against the wall, blankly contemplating his recent reaction.

That feeling had made him truly experience the dark, confined atmosphere of a narrow space.

After thinking for a moment, Heath turned off the light again and sat back in the middle of the bathroom.

The previous sensation was not enough; he needed a deeper understanding to imprint that suffocating oppression on his brain.

Darkness, boundless darkness, once again engulfed him, and his thoughts were drained once more.

As if feeling that it was not realistic enough, Heath slowly closed his eyes, and his relaxed mind forcibly immersed him in the atmosphere of the protagonist, Paul.

Coffin, a coffin, buried deep underground.

Time lost its meaning in this confined space. He didn't know how long had passed when the long-lost sense of suffocation returned.

His breathing became irregular again, and his heart pounded incessantly. At first, it was similar to the previous sensation, and he lost track of time.

The initially oppressive silence seemed to have some sound now, or rather, his ears caught this sound.

A sound similar to flowing water, making him concentrate and listen carefully.

The sound of flowing water grew louder, as if a small stream had turned into the sea.

Just when he wanted to hear it clearly, the surroundings returned to the initial silence.

As if it were an auditory hallucination, the boundary between reality and illusion began to blur.

Why am I here? What am I doing? What should I do? His thoughts became chaotic, and this restlessness made him unconsciously open his eyes.

In an instant, clarity returned to his mind. He could vaguely see something, but it was still dark and hard to make out.

He began to feel short of breath, a bit uncomfortable in his stomach, and his heart continued to pound. However, his breathing was gradually calming down.

Taking another deep breath, a large amount of air entered his lungs, causing a sharp pain. His stomach felt even more uncomfortable, and a churning sensation became clearer, making him almost vomit. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to suppress the urge to vomit. At the same time, his brain conveyed a strong urge to press the light switch, and this thought became clearer, as if someone was telling him that it was the right thing to do at the moment.

But Heath resisted; he had come this far, and he had to persevere.

He had a feeling that all this discomfort he was experiencing would also happen to Paul.

He needed to make his brain and body remember this feeling, as it would undoubtedly help him better understand the torment and pain Paul endured when being buried alive.

In the darkness, Heath clenched his fists and fully engaged in the battle against his physical reactions.

He opened his mouth wide, breathing heavily. His stomach began to burn, sweat formed on his forehead, and the urge to vomit became more pronounced.

He wanted to shout something to distract himself from the oppressive silence around him, but no sound came out of his throat.

A inexplicable palpitation surged into his mind, causing him to become confused again.

"Whoosh!" He continued to breathe heavily, and although he knew his body was uncomfortable, Heath didn't get up to turn on the light.

His lower body gradually lost sensation. In this confined space, it felt like his mobility was further restricted.

Slowly, even his hands lost control, and his body felt sticky, as if the air had adhered to his skin.

A strange sensation coursed through his entire body.

He could clearly perceive the feeling of air brushing against his skin.

His awareness magnified infinitely, and that suffocating feeling was reflected in his mind so clearly that it was frightening.

In a daze, he felt as if he were truly trapped inside a coffin, buried underground.

He wanted to struggle, but he found that he couldn't move at all.

Well, now even his body didn't belong to him. His awareness remained, and it became more acute.

It was as if his soul were imprisoned within his body, aware but unable to control.

So, this was everything Paul experienced? Inside that narrow, confined coffin?

For some reason, a faint smile appeared on Heath's lips.