Sorina From Ground One

Descending - Act 2 | Chapter 30 - Sorina From Ground One
Eighteen Hours and Forty-Two Minutes Since Juna Was Found Dead

Sorina tended to the corpses. All five decaying bodies lined single file on a white marble platform. She leaned down with a rag and wiped the charcoal etched “X” off their foreheads. After rubbing it clean, she made sure to remove any folds in their clothes, tie up any untied shoelaces, and even go as far as to fix their unkempt hair.

Stepping back, Sorina admired the line of corpses. They seemed pleased. Though she no longer knew what they thought. Sorina had Departed the five Gritborns only an hour ago. Their agonizing screams faded away soon after and the tingling feeling inside Sorina's skin eventually stopped.

She watched as the white crystals protruding from the tall Ground One ceiling shined down upon the corpses. The white light sparkled in the dead’s hollowed eyes that Sorina would soon have to shut closed for good. A bit of mockery—seeing the dead look alive while the living lived as if they were dead.

Eventually the Haulers arrived. Sorina greeted them in glee, placing her hands below her waist and taking a bow. Raising back up properly, she fixed her straight auburn hair and knelt at the closest corpse. While the Haulers adjusted their hauling sleds, Sorina softly applied a heavy metal chalk to the first corpse’s eyelids. She applied it gently and the metal flakes absorbed into the eyelids and helped them shut. She moved on to the next corpse until all five were closed off from the white illuminating crystals above.

The three large men—Haulers—wore draping brown gowns that frayed at the ends with a sprawl. Assisting one another in lifting the corpse from its resting place, the Haulers sat the five bodies onto separate sleds. The Hauler sleds were made with a durable material similar to the weapons forged inside Ground One. Though instead of cutting through flesh, the sleds were thin metal slabs with ropes tied to the front. Haulers used them to carry the dead across Ground One to complete their version of a Departure.

With a stiff nod, the lead Hauler left in tow along with the others, all working together to pull the corpse across a smooth light stone ground. Across the leveled ground in the vast distance sat the ever sprouting Living Fossil. A name given to the humongous tree by the first Gritborn to Descend past The First Layer back when the tree was a little stump. Now the Living Fossil almost touched the three hundred yard ceiling and its branches coated in the finest greenery The Chasm has ever seen.

The tree had grown and so too did the population of Ground One. Countless people now lived in abundance down below The First Layer, though the entire majority were Pureborns—those born inside Ground One—less than ten percent of the population were true Gritborns. Though that number drops almost weekly as those who venture down into The Second Layer never return.

Sorina never understood what influenced a person to Descend into The Second Layer. Ground One had all they needed to live and that was thanks to the Living Fossil. As is standard for every Fossil, the tree had an Exchange. For plump red fruits that nurtured the villagers’ bodies, corpses needed to be laid at the tree's roots. Thus where the dead end their Departure.

Sorina watched the Haulers shrink in size and continued their walk towards the Living Fossil. The trek would take three hours in total. One and a half hours to reach the Living Fossil, and then another one and a half to come back. Luckily for the Haulers, they did not even need to bury the dead. All the Exchange required was to lay the deceased on its massive roots and wait for the plum fruits to fall into the Haulers hands.

That is how life sustained itself in Ground One. A reason why no one bothered to become a Gritborn, and those who did were deemed insane. A perfect life awaited those that slumbered in the comfort of Ground One. Why leave?

Sorina never understood what influenced a person to Descend into the Second Layer. She never would. But…she was aware of why they would want to leave Ground One. Sorina heard it. Not the voices of people, nor her own thoughts, but the sound of screams emerging from the Living Fossil in the distance.

Since birth she always had a knack to become a Corpse Reader. Both her parents were Gritborns and by some luck they gave birth to Sorina deep in The Second Layer. Worried about her safety, the parents turned back and ascended back to Ground One. Other Gritborns and Corpse Readers had told Sorina she was special because of that birth—though she knows little about it herself.

Praise always surrounded Sorina. Unsettling praise that never made her happy. Only a fake grin appeared on her face as she gave thanks. The gesture of praise was nice, but she could never truly accept it with an open heart.

Uncertainty about herself crowded her mind from being born inside The Chasm and not a Grounds like everyone else. She was different. Each time a corpse wailed in pain her skin crawled. Each painful prick of the dead flesh reflected on Sorina's own. The worst part however, was hearing the Living Fossil.

The tree was a great distance away and she never got closer to it than need be. But even at this distance she felt the dead's pain. Faintly. It never occurred to her what took place at the Living Fossil. Why only Haulers were allowed to visit the tree. And why Departed corpses were used as the Exchange for plump fruit.

Only until she became a full fledged Corpse Reader and watched as the corpses were taken off into the distance, did she understand the crawling feeling inside her skin. It was their pain reflected on herself. The pain was never anything to complain about, though it was undeniably there.

She did not know what exactly took place or how, but she knew what happened. Something at the Living Fossil burrowed through the corpse's skin—Sorina felt her flesh tingle. Their bones were wrapped in a slimy material—her insides would feel sluggish. The bones would be pried from inside the corpses one by one until a flimsy blanket of flesh remained.

That was the worst. Even if the pain was slight, Sorina hated the feeling of her bones being stripped from her body. It was a process that lasted only mere minutes but each second felt like an eternity.

Since those occurrences Sorina hadn't eaten from the tree any longer. She couldn't dare. Sorina was good at Departing and Reading corpses, but by no means did that make her an expert. She only just became a Corpse Reader a couple years ago. The newbie of Ground One. Though she of course took it more seriously than the rest. Some Corpse Readers didn't even bother with the Departing.

It wasn't only Gritborns who deserved Departing. No, regular folk did too. Unborn babies, ill adults, elderly villagers—everyone who died doesn't deserve to suffer. They must be Departed.

Some Corpse Readers didn't understand this. Whether they were ignorant or utterly lazy, Sorina never knew. Whatever the reason, corpses that never underwent Departing still ended up at the Living fossil. People, still there, trapped in a state where they could do nothing, ended up being stripped off their bones for fruit.

The taste of fruit now sickened her.

Sorina raised her head and flicked her ears. A slight tingle burrowed into her shoulders and she felt a twinge of sickness. A corpse was nearby. She turned and surveyed the open area and from the village walked out two men—Gritborns with lime chunked DepthStones—totting a body in both hands as it sprawled across their arms. They approached Sorina and set the corpse of their friend down.

Unsightly. The poor man had been almost cleaved in half and his friends did a poor job stitching his torso back whole. This was one part of the job being a prodigy didn't help with. The sight made Sorina want to puke. She held it in and approached them with a smile.

Sorina bowed apologetically and lingered in the lower stance longer than she did for the Haulers.

“How long?” she asked, straightening back up.

The taller of the two Gritborns spoke in frantic pants, “Four or five hours. He…I don't know. We weren't that deep but then—”

“It's okay,” Sorina said to reassure him. “If you could, kindly lift him up and bring him to the marble circle over here.” She pointed with an open hand to the large smooth marble platform surrounded by four pillars. The base was circular and had ridges dug through with lines she didn't fully understand. No ceiling stood at the top and it was directly under a high strung chunk of white illuminating crystal that bathed any corpses placed under them.

The taller man led, raising his fallen friend's shoulders while the other Gritborn picked up his feet. They carried the dead to the middle of the marble circle and gently set him down as if he was still alive and they did not wish to hurt him. Luckily, the dead was not in pain. Sorina's side stung, though that was the extent of her pain. For someone dead the man remained very calm.

Stepping forward onto the platform herself, Sorina nodded to the two Gritborns and then knelt beside the corpse. The two Gritborns stepped back and the Corpse Reading started.

The corpse was a man in his late twenties. A poor soul who met his end too soon. Black hair fell to his shoulders, but in this case it flowed like webbing onto the marble platform. Sorina held her nose as she leaned closer. Though death is unfortunate, something positive was that the man's throat hadn't been clogged or swelled.

A corpse that had a swollen throat, pierced lungs, or a slit jugular always suffered the most after death. The sensation of not being able to breathe might be the most painful of all—at least from what Sorina had felt.

It lingered too. Unlike physical pain, a corpse was more sensitive to the lack of survival, which included breathing, eating, and drinking. Those three things humans needed to survive were what corpses suffered in agonizing pain from. They couldn’t eat so their stomachs turned inside out and chewed itself to shreds. They couldn't drink so each second that passed they suffered as if on a desert. Breathing, however, was the worst of the three.

A lingering pain that never went away. Sorina hated the sensation. The corpses despised it as well. Each corpse she had seen with a swelled or slit throat always suffered the most after death. Screaming in pain that rang through her ears.

She moved on and continued the Reading. As observed earlier, the man had been basically sliced in two at the waist. Sorina tried her hardest not to notice the small intestines that broke through the makeshift stitching as she continued.

A few seconds passed and she stood up, turned to the two Gritborn, and sighed in relief. Sorina smiled.

“It's okay,” she said looking back at the corpse. “Your friend is in pain but he wanted to Depart and leave. If you could just step off the platform. I can hurry to relieve him of the pain.”

Sorina looked back at the men but they did not move. Instead the taller Gritborn’s face swelled like flames. He stomped to her face.

“What are you talking about?” he asked an inch away from her.

Sorina sighed—the same pattern. A scary one at that.

“That's my friend,” the man continued. “He wouldn't say that.”

Raising her hands, Sorina stepped back slowly. “I-I'm sorry, though he is in pain. I'm only telling you what I feel him saying. He wants to go.”

“Don't spout lies!” The Gritborn slung a hand across Sorina's face, burning her cheek and knocking her to her rump. The second Gritborn rushed to pull his friend back, though he continued to yell.

“He wouldn't say that! I know him better than anyone and he wouldn't give up like that! We made a promise not to give up!”

Sorina touched the side of her cheek. Even though the Gritborn was being held back she still shook in fright of another hit. She glanced back at the corpse. It was sad, in pain and frightful itself. So badly did the poor man want to be Departed from the endless suffering, though he also cared for his friends, a tug of war of emotions. However the pain had won, and the corpse begged to be Departed.

Sorina collected herself and breathed. She clutched at her grey tunic's middle and sniffled just a bit. Then looked up.

“Allow me to Depart your friend and obey his wish. He—”

A boot's end rammed her chin, splitting it and throwing her on her back. It hurt. She wanted to cry.

“LIAR! He wouldn't say that!” The Gritborn was frantic, tears swelled in his eyes just as they did Sorina's, but for different reasons. The other Gritborn only acted like he was holding his angered friend back, in reality Sorina had noticed his weak grip from the start. He also didn't believe her. No one believed the suffering corpse.

“What's happening here?” a voice called out. It was Tereza, the other Corpse Reader stationed here. She wore the same grey tunic with a skin tight black body suit underneath. Though her tunic was a little shorter and only fell five inches past her knees.

Tereza bent down, her neck length blonde hair brushing against Sorina's forehead as she examined the nicked chin. Tereza clicked her tongue.

“Spit it,” she commanded as she glared at the two Gritborn.

The taller Gritborn was released, he seemed a little less frantic now that Tereza arrived. Only a little.

“She said that my friend wished to die. He wouldn't want that. Who would wish to die!”

“Those that can no longer live,” Tereza said.

“But he does!”

Tereza looked at the corpse with a clinical eye, then sighed.

“You're precisely right,” she said. “Apologies on our end. Hurry up and take your friend back.”

The Gritborn didn't seem satisfied. He was more obsessed about Sorina than his friend at the moment. “And what about her? Will she be punished, because if not I'll do it myself.”

“No need,” Tereza said. “Now grab him and go before I call over a Hauler.”

That was a lie. All of the Haulers were gone. Tereza bluffed. Somehow the furious man believed it and calmed down. Nodding at his other Gritborn partner, the two approached their friend's corpse and lifted him off the ground before carrying him away. The tall Gritborn's eyes stayed fixed on Sorina as they vanished back into the village.