"Get up." Brandon said again, kicking Mulder's curled-up form. "I heard something. Get up!" He didn't wait for a response. Pulling Mulder to his feet, he snapped the handcuff chain and shoved him towards the door.
"Get going." He ordered, eyes flickering towards the stairs. Mulder stumbled forward obediently, mind still in that foggy place between awake and asleep. He reached the casket.
"Get in." Brandon commanded, mind mostly on the person upstairs.
No. Not the casket. A physical representation of his fate, the coffin lay like an open mouth, waiting to swallow him. He couldn't get in it. He didn't even want to be near it. He shook his head weakly.
Brandon growled, his patience tested. This wasn't a yes or no question. He pushed him.
Mulder managed to get out a small yelp before the lid was shut over him. The whoosh of air escaping capture drowned out his whimper, and Mulder was surrounded by darkness.