The Descent

A well-lit bedroom with white curtains gently moving in the breeze. A feeble hand, covered in age spots, extended her knotty fingers towards an older man. "My time has come. I can feel it", a shaky female voice whispered.

The woman speaking was lying on a comfortable bed with clean sheets. It was obvious that her wresting place was handled with a lot of care. Her family, two adult children and loving husband of 30 years, stood above her in tears. He still could not believe how quickly her illness aged her. And so suddenly. He clenched his teeth, putting her hand to his face. She spoke quietly, looking at him with milky eyes. "Before I go, I need you to promise me one thing." 

"Don't say that!" he cried.

"I need you to make sure my last rights are read before I'm buried."

"You can't die yet..."

"Promise me that!" she let out a raspy yell. Holding back emotions, the man could only nod.

Relieved, the woman laid down her tired head and closed her eyes. Her youngest called out her name as she let out her last breath.

She felt nothing afterward. Nothing but darkness was left. Then slowly, her senses returned. The fragile body, covered with a simple night dress, felt air circling around her. There was no more pain, no more numbness. Only the tranquil lack of gravity.

She opened her eyes, looked up and saw a bright light. Her smile widened as she moved arms up towards it. 

Yet, the light's shimmer seemed to be diminishing. At first radiant and glistening, it slowly shrunk more and more, becoming no brighter than a distant blue star. She observed it confused. "If that place is moving away from me, that means..." She gasped when realization struck. Trembling, she looked down. And indeed, another type of light seemed to have been coming towards her faster and faster. Or was she going to it? "No, no, no!" She screamed as her eyes moved frantically.

Fire flames were bright with the outline of the area now clearly visible. A dark island surrounded by the ocean of magma was roaring menacingly, increasing in size. To her surprise, it seemed no bigger than New York City, with high skyscrapers in some parts and vast areas of empty space in others.

There was little time for sightseeing. She will have plenty of time to learn about it once she falls. Mustering all her remaining strength, she waved her skillful arms and mumbled a string of words.

The vicinity of what is to come was getting stronger, with its still distant heat reaching her slippers. She continued to yell out cryptic words, faster and faster, as if fearing she will not finish in time. Arching her neck up, she extending her arms and legs. "Validum corpus!" she shouted.

Her skeleton-like hands became longer and fleshier."Pulchritūdō!" she cried.

The ends of her long gray hair turned dark brown and silky. The land was now barely a hundred meters away. The stench resembling rotting flesh and open sewage made her want to gag. Yet she resisted, continuing the incantation.

A long scream left her chest, before she belly-flopped into the dump-like place. This barely made an impact on the surface, but it was still loud enough for someone to take notice. A hoofed foot crunched a bone on the dark surface. It belonged to the scavenger demon, the lowest of the low.

Alerted by the impact, he emerged from his hideout. Surrounded by rotting body parts and human remains, his veteran nose was intrigued by a new scent. It led him to a small crater. "Well, well, well", he grinned, looking down. "Look what we have here?"

In the center of a hole was an unconscious girl. She was young and beautiful, with sharp teeth and a pointy tail sticking out of her old nighty. "You must have been a really bad girl," he smirked menacingly.

On Earth, an open grave was covered in flowers. On it was a name Tiffany Noble with the date of her birth and demise carved in white marble. In total, she had lived 60 years.

A selected group of sad people, all in black stood glancing at the beautiful white coffin. "What to say of such a woman?" one young man spoke softly. "A good neighbor, a loving mother and wife. She was always ready to lend a hand... She never seemed fazed by anything. There was not a problem that this wonderful woman couldn't solve. I will always remember her kind heart and levelheadedness. Farewell, aunty Tiff. You always felt like family to me. I'm sure my mother would agree. May both of you rest with the angels," he concluded, and wiped a tear.

Her children listened, visibly anxious. Their father pressed his head as if suffering from a migraine.

"Of all the times... It's easier to dig a hole to China than get a priest to come now," her son murmured watching the tired crowd. His father exhaled, letting his hand drop.

"Bury the coffin," he said to the grave diggers.

"What? No wait!" his daughter whispered quickly.

"There is no use in waiting. The priest had a car accident. Only the paperwork will take him half an hour. Let's be done with this," the older man stated signaling the workers to continue.

"Dad, I don't think this is a good idea," his son whispered. The man did not react.

"Dad!" his daughter uttered. She did not get a reaction.

Their father watched as the coffin was placed in the ground and covered with dirt, cold and silent.

"Dad! Dad! You promised..."

The freshly fallen woman opened her eyes. She could feel blood dripping from her nose into her mouth. Her face was pressed on the wooden surface below, covered by her nightgown. Everything, from the tips of her nails, to her rear end, down to her numb toes.

Coming to her senses, she gasped, seeing only white.

She moved her arms, finding one is restrained. Removing the fabric from her eyes, she saw her left arm in a make-shift handcuff. It resembled a dirty hook that was hastily hammered into the wood. Everything smelled of blood, and not just because of her nosebleed.

The table was smooth and drenched in dried brown residue with a hatchet wedge near the edge. There were many chains and hooks on the walls with legs, arms and even a few human faces hanging from them.

Looking around, the woman nearly fainted from horror. A human-sized creature, with a large pig head and a male body was grunting with glee as he had washed himself with a jug of blood. His large wet nostrils snorted, as his chin buried into his fleshy neck. The creature's large human hands clasped turning towards his captive.

She clenched her teeth and muttered moving her free hand. "Ignis purgationem!"

Nothing happened. Desperate, she tried again louder. "Ignis purgationem!"

"What are you mumbling?" he squealed, pushing her head down. She fidgeted frantically trying to get away.

"Stop moving!" he bellowed, unbuttoning his pants.