Plague of divinity

Chapter 17

Enrick froze, he could feel bile rise at the back of his throat. He swallowed as he shakily held the table behind him for support. Around 30 to 50 decaying corpses littered the room but there seemed to be a large majority of them by the entrance, piled upon each other as if they had been in a wild scramble to escape.

Just what the hell had happened in there?

He took a few deep breathes before turning around back to the table to look at what was upon it. He grabbed the documents and shoved them, along with a couple of vials filled with some kind of fluid into his pockets. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible; he knew it was irrational and stupid but there was a part of him hoping the bodies wouldn't suddenly decide to come back to life with him still down there, not to mention that being around this many dead people made him very uncomfortable. He's a doctor, not a mortician.

Turning around, one of the papers ended up sliding from his grasp and landed on the floor. He reached down to pick it up before his eye was caught by something else nearby. Upon closer inspection he realized it was a shoe. It looked to be that of a small child, laid against a couple of mushrooms that grew from the ground. As it was separated from its owner it probably meant... His eyes moved up slightly towards the pile of bodies. Amongst the mound of decaying flesh pulsing with maggots under the sore warty skin and dirtied old clothes, a small hand half the size of his palm stuck out. Enrick paused as his gaze softened sadly. His eyebrows pulled together in sympathy as he realized it wasn't just the bodies of adults he was surrounded by in this dingy basement.

Noticing some faint scratchy writing on the shoe he tenderly picked up it up, holding it up to the light so he could read it.

This belongs to Marley, please return if found.

Enrick took a moment to think, after which he got up and solemnly begun to walk past the bodies to get to the entrance, gently placing the shoe on top of where he assumed the rest of the child to be before exiting through the trap door. Out of the swallowing darkness of the basement.

His heart felt heavy as he stood on the grass outside. There were so many people in there... had they all died from the plague? Or had some of them been killed by each other in the evident hurry to reach the door? Had they... been locked in there by someone? Is that why they're...? He looked down. None of this should have happened to begin with.

A pale shape in the edge of his vision catching his eye he turned his head and noticed a small patch of flowers. Delicate and white. He walked over and holding the stem delicately, plucked a small bloom from its bed.

Walking back over to the entrance of the trapdoor once more he took a few careful steps inside until he reached the shoe he had laid. Taking a deep breath he placed the flower next to the small hand.

"I'm sorry Marley... whoever you were..."

He stepped back into the outside world, closing the door once he had left the shadows. Sighing he began to walk away. He would tell the grave digger about the bodies later, it wouldn't be right to leave them there, but before he would he had some stuff that needed doing beforehand.

As Enrick left for his house he felt disheartened. He would have liked to go and visit Aldrion and see what he was up to but after what he had just witnessed, his motivation had declined. He had to focus on finding out if his former co-workers had made any progress and he knew if he were to go and hang out now he'd just be downer. He'd just have to visit him another time.

On his way he noticed a familiar old lady with white hair tied back, an old hat on her head and a shovel in her well worked hands, when he stopped her she looked at him with a stern expression.

"What is it boy? I don't have all day."

He mentioned the bodies he had found, resulting in her pulling a face.

"Some kind of accident or because of the plague?"

"Uhh,"

She sighed, shaking her head.

"If you don't know it suppose it doesn't really make much of a difference, they're dead anyways, my only job is to bury. They'll all be going in the pit regardless."

"The pit?"

She nodded.

"When the plague started the body count was too high to bury each body individually, would have been too much work, so we just ended up throwing them in together into a large pit. Not our usual method but I'm sure the goddess of death won't mind as long as they're in some kind of grave."

Enrick's mind wandered back to the scene captured in his mind of the pile of rotting bodies crowded near the entrance. What a way to die... At least they'll be looked after now.

"Thanks again, it makes me feel better knowing they're going to be taken care of."

"Well, I'm not the grave digger for nothing. You go get yourself home, I'll take care of it,"

He gave her a grateful nod before walking away.

Eventually he got to the house, a glum expression on his face as he pushed the door open and walked inside. He could hear heavy coughing coming from the room next to his but... due to the day he'd had he didn't have the energy to see who it was.

He got to his room and took out the stuff he had collected, looking around for a place to put it... No, this wasn't a suitable place to store things as important as these. Walking out of his room he looked around until an idea struck him. The cellar.

Lifting up the trapdoor he made his way inside, a lantern in hand. The cellar was mostly empty apart from a few shelves for storage so there was plenty of room for him to work, away from anyone who may try to meddle. He gently placed everything he had collected onto a table and organised it neatly. The papers and vials were now ready for him to investigate.