In every situation, Tintin's curiosity burns.
He wondered why they were saving them.
For it was difficult, pretending to be dead. One wrong move, and those bribed would find themselves shot as well, and he definitely killed.
When the shots rang out, he had slumped down. They untied him and carried him inside, Tintin remaining as limp as possible.
It seemed as if the doctor had been bribed as well. He had only checked his pulse, quickly, as a show, it seemed, and immediately bade the men bury him. The soldiers threw him into a truck roughly, and it had taken all his willpower to not cry out with pain.
They took him to the gravedigger, who had been gentler. He had dug the grave, laid Tintin in the grave, then laid a board over it. The gravedigger put a sign and a breathing tube for Tintin in the grave, then started filling it in. Tintin could hear the heavy sound of dirt being thrown on wood above him, and then it ceased, to be replaced by silence.
Now he lay in the darkness, earth above his head. Luckily he was not claustrophobic. But he still could not help but wonder.
Why did that lady help him? Why did she try to help him escape? He knew that it was definitely she that had bribed the corporal, the doctor, and the gravedigger. She must be rich and influential. And he also knew that in this country women were treated much, much worse than men. The lady could be killed, shot without a trial for helping him.
Even as the darkness pressed over him, he wondered.
Okay, this was intended to be a story focusing on how Tintin would start to wonder if he would be buried alive and left there. But somehow Tintin himself entered and took this his own way. Which is good. Tintin has an insatiable curiosity that will never leave him.
Yes, Tintin is officially one of my muses now. :D
Oh, and review?