The Descent

Soundtrack:

https://open.spotify.com/user/gaymercraig/playlist/0l9N4jp0B4OEVPjZlJ9hqS


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"There. Go. GO!" Slink snapped. Ripping her hand out of Ayrian’s and Dakota’s hands, the group made their way forward across the glowing line. Ayrian and Lil both shook with fear as theu walked towards the hole but their resolve pushed them forward.

They entered the gap and walked onward into an undulating sea of darkness. Lights bloomed from the dark and danced upon them. TJ gagged as the stench of the grave filled our nostrils. Lil held back vomit. Others whispered prayers under their breath. Ayrian cursed.

The group marched forward single-file deeper into the mass, amongst the cries of the dead. Hands, undead hands reached forward from the fungal walls begging for release. The floor was riddled with discarded body parts, gore, flesh.

As the group arrived at a small outlet, a sickening yellow glow grew from the wall and seeped outward, Cadence emerging before us. The group stared wide-eyed in recognition.

“Cadence…”, Slink gasped. Ayrian was too taken aback to hear more. Happiness, sadness, confusion overtook him and he was lost to his own emotions. He wanted to reach out. To touch his friend and give him a hug but he couldn’t risk enraging the Shard by accident.

“I’m not as loud as I used to be”, he said quietly as the group leaned in closer. “You will need to listen carefully”.

“You are here because you have given much of yourselves. And now you must give more” he rasped.
“This time, I’m ready”, Ayrian thought to himself reminded of the time he entered a similar mass to save his nephew, Joey.

“But there is a price. None of you will be able to restore your souls again, not even with surgery”, he continued. “At least, I do not believe you will be able to. Do you understand and accept this?” The room filled with resolve as the people inside gave confirmations. Their mission… Their focus restored.

“Very well. What then, makes a morgue?” He asked. Moments passed and one by one people spoke up.

“Community” Glitch offered.

“Connection” Whip volunteered

“Memories” Cherry piped.

“Waiting” Tumbleweed quipped.

“Fear” a small voice said.

“Remembrance” Harker said.

“Solidarity” said Glanton.

“Hope” Lil said with a pained expression, snapping Ayrian’s attention. “Think about Pan, Lil. You don’t want to do that to yourself”, Ayrian remarked quietly to her under the voices still spouting words. Lil hung her head.

 As the voices started dying down Ayrian whispered a final word through shaking lips, “…Life”.

*****

Cadence turned to Slink and whispered quietly - Her eyes flashing with anger “What?! No! I’m staying”, she exclaimed. He looked at her calmly “You chose the living, Slink. They are my shades now."

Dakota, leaned in and gave Slink a hug, whispering in her ear “I love you, Emily”. A spark of recognition and understanding fell on Slink’s face as she turned to leave with watery eyes. Ayrian ran towards her and took her into a hug. “Tell my family I love them Slink. Fight for us. Win.” He whispered to her with tears in his eyes. She nodded and was gone.

*****

“A morgue needs images… words of power… Imagos”, Cadence went on “You will give yours to the grave and a new morgue will be formed. Come with me.”
Cadence led us deeper in to the grave to another outlet. “Leave your weapons here, they can go no further.”

“Will we lose them?” Someone asked.

“It doesn’t fucking matter. It’s just stuff” TJ replied sharply, setting his gear down in a corner. The rest of the crew followed suit, abandoning their weapons on the fungal walls.
They carried onward deeper into the grave. The pressure changed and the air grew thin and cold as they descended in silence. Another bubble they could spread out in. There was a small tunnel leading deeper but Cadence paused.

“Only four may enter at a time. Only four. There, you must stabilize the morgue from the inside. You will give your words.” Cadence whispered. Ms. Dunwich walked to the entrance and stood calling names in her odd motherly way “Lil, Cherry, Glanton, and… Glitch”. The first three followed direction, quietly protesting Glitch stood at the opening and pushed back “I’m not going in without Whip”. Dunwich nodded in understanding. Ayrian wormed his way to the back of the group. The room went still. “…Jensen”. The bird-faced man nodded and did as he was told.

Ayrian turned to Dakota and grasped her hand “We’re going in together.” She nodded. TJ stood next to her. It would be Dakota, Ayrian, TJ and another. Ayrian would be safe.

The first group returned, changed somehow. It was written in their eyes. “Whip, Glitch, Tumbleweed…. Ayrian”, Dunwich called. “Me?!”, Ayrian protested, shrinking towards a corner. “Yes Ayrian, it is your time”. Defeated, Ayrian released Dakota’s hand and walked slowly towards the small opening, feigning confidence.

A small opening ahead held a pool of viscera, not quite liquid and not quite solid. The soup reeked of death and decay. The walls here shifted and flickered. The words emblazoned on the fleshy swelling walls glowed and faded in a caricature of a heartbeat.

“Write your imagos and give the morgue power. These walls must be covered.” Cadence said in his monotone dead voice.

Ayrian walked to the center and scooped a handful gagging back vomit, and walked to the walls.
He hesitated a moment before slapping the viscera in a splat on the wall. Spreading it out as if the splat were an inkpot and his hand the pen, he wrote with all his heart, pouring not only his emotion and soul into it but he gave the words power as he etched them psionically into the walls. The walls responded to his touch, tracing his hands and moving with them as he wrote.

F

Ayrian and the morgue danced a macabre dance with each marking.

E

The grave pulsated hungrily at him, beckoning him for more. Ever more.

A

The mass pitted and squelched in a gluttonous fit, craving for his touch.

R

He felt a wave of power exhale from his body. He was calm at last. He gave the dead something to keep them alive. A powerful tool to avoid the grave.
He traced the word thrice over to make sure it stuck and the morgue had what it needed to stabilize.
He shambled back to the pool, not content that his job was done, and took another handful.
SPLAT!

R

A

G

E

Another wave of power rushed through him, granting him more clarity. He gave the dead a reason to fight; To keep them from returning here.
He could feel his mind growing heavy and cloudy, but he could not stop. He was driven. He returned to the pool. One last time.
SPLAT!

H

O

P

E

This time there was no wave, only a pit he felt form in his gut. A pinprick now, but he knew it would grow. He gave his hope so she wouldn’t need to – now, good, honorable people like Lil had a reason to return to the living.

He returned to the small alcove and rejoined Dakota, feeling dull. Numb. Empty. He stared blankly at the pulsating walls as bits of flesh and fluid dripped on him from above. He waited patiently as the others took their turns giving pieces of themselves up.

As the last group returned, Cadence re-emerged from the wall “Your words are written. The morgue will form and your job is done. For now…”. A scream from outside interrupted Cadence and stole Ayrian’s attention. The horde above was winning. The townspeople were in trouble. Cadence continued to speak but Ayrian was already walking back to the entrance, weapons in hand. This job was done. His family needed him now.

He traced the path back to the exit, the others on his heels. He couldn’t distinguish the voices crying out over the sound of Whip’s wailing. Something was wrong. Something happened inside but his family needed him now and he didn’t look back.

The screams grew louder the higher they went. The walls squelched and burbed as they compressed around the group. Ayrian pressed forward guiding the others through the shrinking tunnels. The air thickened as they climbed and the iron scent of blood filled the group’s nostrils.

The mass swelled and groaned as the entrance grew near. He could feel the weight of the walls coming down on him, he pushed forward, the group giving him strength.

He emerged from the gap and ran to the living. The battle was over, but the townspeople would never know the cost.