It wasn’t uncommon to find the mangled bodies of the dead all the way down here. In fact it was expected. It was just a simple matter of nature, that just like drops of rain fell from the sky, so did the bodies of those who died far up above, on the surface or even just the higher levels of the great chasm. Piles and piles of corpses, trash and fecal waste all fell down here regularly. Sometimes landing on the ledges and houses on the higher levels of the pit, only to then be thrown down towards an even lower level by annoyed housekeepers and maids, so that they would become someone else's problem. And sometimes just landing on some unfortunate soul who happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. A dead body was considered ghastly, the higher up you went towards the surface. But down here this close to the Grave, there were often more dead than living people. Though they would hardly call themselves that.
Esper wiped the sweat from her face with a thin, almost skeletal hand. Her plaster pale skin clung so tightly to her bones that she looked a shocking opposite to the swelling corpse of the woman that the girl was rummaging through with her other hand. Brushing a strand of her unkempt, oddly sticky hair to the side with her forearm, she continued her work. This one was fresh, thought the young girl, it had only barely started rotting and it lost an arm on the way down. Along with its leg, which was bent so far to the side that it may as well not have been attached anymore. Fresh ones were the worst, they were still heavy with water and sometimes they burst. Even worse, there was nothing to be found on this one either, save for the long, once white, burial cloth. Worthless, even down here. It must have had a cheap family. With a disappointed sigh, the girl shakily rises up and walks over towards the ledge nearby, exhaling another deep breath out as she stared into the black abyss below.
A strong warm current of air brushed passed her face, as she leaned over the splintered wooden railing. The rising gust tossing her tangled hair and filthy, tattered robe up and down. It carried an oddly musty smell with it, the wind, but so did everything else down here. The girl’s hollow gaze rises upwards, together with the rising breeze. Looking across and up towards the other side of the chasm, she watches the lush, dark-green trees growing out from the faces of the opposite cliffs sway in the breeze. The chasm was incomprehensibly deep. She remembered a moment from several years ago when a strange, very sad man passing through the Burrow told her that the chasm sunk so deeply into the earth, that some said a body would fall for half a day, if it didn’t get caught in the interwoven branches, bridges and cliffs above. She wasn’t sure if that was true, having never been allowed to leave this level. But she felt like it could be.
The light from above grew dimmer, the three daylight hours would be over soon, when the sun was too far away to shine down into the abyss. The few rays that managed to sneak through all the way down there didn’t bother to stay long and it was dangerous outside, let alone near the edge, when it was dark. She straightened back up from the fence and grabbed hold of a crude rope, which lay coiled around it on one side. Looping one end through the fence and holding it in her hand she returned to the bloated corpse and tied the other end of the rope around its neck and began to pull on the makeshift mechanism. Slowly but surely, the dead thing slid towards the edge of the gorge, even with a rope it was hard work and the girl had to struggle with all of her strength to have the body budge even a little. Almost there. She pulled on the rope again.
An audible series of wet cracks and a splash echoed through the air and the child fell to the ground, releasing a series of crude curses. The far end of the rope whips violently outward, spraying a mixture of indistinguishable thick fluids in every direction during the snapping motion. Unperturbed, she wiped her face off and got back up, ignoring the wet, red sensation in her eyes. At the base of the fence lay the now torn off head, pieces of the spine still laying attached underneath. Its eyes, wide open, now glared upwards, almost questioningly towards the girl, as if asking her why she had roused it from its sleep. Esper looked down towards it, towards the eyes staring up at her. Her expression was more annoyed than disgusted. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought the woman’s vivid gray eyes almost seem to have met hers. They looked sad.
She hated it when they looked at her. Feeling a pang of guilt, she quietly mumbled “I’m sorry. Hold on,” and grabbed the head with both hands. It was heavier than the other heads she had carried so far. Obviously she couldn’t reattach it, so she did the next best thing and stuffed it into the white cloth wrap, bound loosely around the woman. “There. Sorry about that,” she mutters again. “Wait for me at the bottom, okay? I’ll make it up to you.” With a final heave, off rolled the limp, decapitated corpse down the ledge, leaving a trail of dust and broken branches behind as it vanished into the pit below. After it had disappeared entirely into the gaping, deeper darkness, she got back up and, making sure to grab her rope, wiped her hands on her legs and turned to head back home. There were quite a few today, but it looks like she managed to get them all down.
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The little remaining sunlight, barely managing to find its way down here, was starting to fade quicker now. “Right on time,” she thought. A heavy thud vibrates out from just behind her, not a second after her thought had finished. Frightened, Esper jumped around quickly to see what had happened. The rickety wooden fence on the ledge was shattered. There, smashed over the wreckage, lay another corpse, freshly fallen from above. She sighed, more annoyed than anything, and turned back towards it. It had to be done and nobody else would do it if she didn’t. Getting closer now, she squinted to identify the features in the rapidly dimming light. It was a man this time, his expressionless face covered with a thick, ash-gray beard. It managed to keep all of itself intact on the way down, though it was also just wrapped in the usual white burial cloth for the poor. She groaned disappointedly at the dead man, the poor never had anything worthwhile buried with them. Esper hated the poor, the families always kept all of their possessions because they needed them themselves.
Running her finger over the cloth she felt that it was smooth… very smooth. A glint of excitement shone in her dull eyes, bringing a rare vividness to them, as she quickly lifted its mangled arm out of the way. Smooth cloth cost more. The cloth itself was too ruined to save. Too dirty. The many odd smears and smudges likely wouldn’t wash out, so she sure didn’t want it. But the fact that they dressed it in this means maybe there is also something more to be found. Another waft of warm air rose from the deeper pit below, once more lightly tossing her greasy knotted hair around. “Yeah, yeah. Hold on,” said the ragged girl, seemingly to nobody. “I’ll give it to you in a second.” Her bony hands worked their way along the almost fresh corpse, there on his chest, she felt a bump. A necklace maybe?
Pulling down the collar she saw it. A thin deep-gray metal chain, holding a minuscule roundish locket. The breeze from below grew stronger now and the sound of rustling branches and the droning wind became more potent; almost merging together into a coarse, singular audible vibration. The girl squinted her eyes tightly, trying to bring the pendant in focus. It was hard for her to see clearly, but at best she could make out a blurry circle. Though her fingers, moving over the surface, felt many fine grooves and indentations. The fragile adornment seemed almost misplaced on the large hairy body it was stuck to, thought Esper. Looking up for a moment, she realized how little light was left. The rising black silhouettes made up of the many layers of forests towering above her, layer after layer, all seemed to sway in rhythmic unison; guided in their motions by the ever-present updraft. Back and forth in the warm rising breeze, as if rehearsing a well practiced ritual. Nightfall would be here within the hour and she still had a ways to go to get back home.
Shaking her head, she looked back down to the corpse and reached around its neck, fumbling for the clasp of the necklace. There, she felt a small mechanism between her fingers. With an oddly strong click, that vibrated through her bones, the chain opened and she took it off of the man's neck. Proud of her find, the girl opted to put it in her dress’s makeshift, inside pocket and examine it closely later on, when she managed to get in better light again. She had to get back first though. “Now then,” thought Esper, as she sat down on the ground leaning back, her hands planted firmly behind her in the dirt. The man was partially impaled on the jagged wooden splinters, but with enough force, she should be able to just push him down with her legs. Placing her two bare, muddy feet on the man’s side, she grunted as she pushed with all her strength. He barely budged an inch.
Again she pushed with a large heave, her fingers sinking into the mushy earth beneath them. The body began to rock to one side. Again. It rocked further now. Using the momentum, she gave a third and final heave; pressing with all the strength her sinewy legs could give. She felt a pressure in her face and her lungs and throat hurt from the exertion. Thankfully, the dead man fell over, releasing from the wooden splinters it was stuck on with a disgustingly wet ‘splurch’ and tumbled down out of her sight and into the abyss below. She breathed out deeply, taking only a short moment afterward to catch her breath. Getting up then, she roughly slung the mud off of her hands and wiped the rest on the sides of her ragged dress.
Esper had to hurry now and so she turned her back to the ledge and ran into the woody thicket, leading back to the Burrow.