Gravediggers

Victorian England, a city alive through not only the people inhabiting the streets but with the streets themselves. The soul of the city, the concrete underneath their feet. The heart of the city, the warmth of the coals keeping the city warm. The breath, the smoke puffing out of the chimneys scattered through the city. The next step of the future.

During the day business thrived and children laughed. Carriages pulled by horses raced through the city getting people places far across from end to end. Cheers fill the air. Some from happiness of the evening to the promise of a new promotion. Tea parties, dinner’s with the family, and new love being found. The sun shined on the city daily. Or did it.

The divide between the rich and the poor, too big of a gap to be able to provide the promises to everyone. A few rich families stood above the rest and avoided the filth. The reality of the streets was not a beautiful promise of the future. It was filth. Horse manure filled the air, and walking around you could not escape the smell creeping up your nose. Trash and feces lined the sidewalk and cobblestone. Some piles were so large that carriages would get stuck and the driver would have to hop off and shovel it to the side. Water tainted from all the waste, it could only be drunk with high risk of disease. Most people drank alcohol because they knew it was clean and filtered, including the children. Some used it to a point where it became a vale that hid the sadness of the world, a fake face to blend in to the rest of society.

The truth of the city felt much darker the deeper and deeper one would go. The underground city was the true life of the city that was rushing by and moving faster. Brothels in the night filled with lonely men looking for love, or just a touch from a soft hand. Women trying to find a purpose. Sometimes being treated right by a man gives them that moment of satisfaction.

Meanwhile in the taller buildings of lords and ladies, groups of rich old men would gather to talk about how they can keep scalping money and work out of those less fortunate. Finding new ways to get people to work longer hours or for cheaper pay. The elite stood so far on top they rarely had to step down the the bottom of the building at street level. When they do, the people who work for them move the filth out of the way. They felt protected by their money and status.

Others sometimes liked to prove them wrong. Murder was frequent, theiving was a weekly hazard, assualt came so often it would be a daily story one would tell at a dinner table. Sometimes even one of the rich would be bodied. Most of the time it is a random occurrence. Someone sees a nice carriage, pulls out a pistol and shoots the occupants inside, running off. Other times a rich lord gets too drunk in a local tavern and walks down the wrong ally. After being stabbed several times, he will eventually bleed out and die in the streets like other less fortunate people. In the end all go to the same place, the ground.

Gravedigging became a job, letting the dead rest was a luxury that no one had. Even once someone got buried they were not at rest. Multiple family members stacked on top of each other. No room to be spread out, some bodys only buried a couple inches deep. Once a gravedigger dug up a grave, they would loot all the valuables and toss the bones away into the rest of the cemetery. Gravedigging got to a point where the commonality made richer families stop burying their loved ones with anything valuable. However, a lack of loot did not stop some who were hired for other more nefarious tasks.

A group of gravediggers known as, The Cobalt Company, dug up the random grave marked by a tombstone, the name carved in red, “August Ryan” They only got so deep, until they found a coffin. Two men wearing striped overalls and now covered in dirt pulled out the brown oak tree coffin. They broke the lock and opened it up. “Dammit, this one is still fresh.” One of the men said coughing at the smell of rotten flesh filled the air. “Well take anything valuable and close it, We’ll put it back on the bottom.”

“This old broad got nothin’ of value.”

“We aren’t here for the valuables, they are just a bonus. We need to clear this grave.” He kept speaking to his companion who seemed confused about the purpose for this gravedigging event.”

“I know why we are here, it just seems like the body count is getting higher faster.” he hopped into the hole and helped pull out the second coffin.

“We do our job so we aren’t next, Verner.”

“I know I know, it just seems like it ain’t worth what we're doing. Rich folk aren’t leaving treasures for us to steal anymore.” Both men opened the second coffin, the other gravedigger not even responding to his partner's last comment. Inside this coffin, black with elegant faded white detail, rested a skeleton, fully decomposed. They both sifted through the coffin finding a few valuables, like a necklace and watch. Nothing too outstanding, but it always seemed like the deeper they dug the better things they found. “This one is perfect. Take out the skeleton and spread the bones around for the wildlife, I’ll break down the coffin to fire wood.”

“Aahh, why am I always on bone duty.” Verner asked, whining into the night. Still he pulled out bones and started to chuck them in all directions. They both grumbled to themselves while they finished the job. After loading up their carriage with the now firewood, they rode off back into the heart of the city.

The building became more gothic the deeper they entered into the district toward the manor. The closer to the manor, the cleaner the streets got. Some roads actually shined from the earlier rain. Clear liquid flowed into drains not the sludge that would be in other parts of the city.

The carriage stopped in front of the center manor. They both hopped off and looked at the large building painted solid black. The sides of the roof are lined with multiple stone spikes with square bases. Windows in multiple geometric shapes, and black bars covering all the glass. The doors to the manor were taller than average double doors. The border of the trim was solid pearl white with the detail carved, and painted throughout. All detailed in blacks and reds. Dark red, dark enough when one would shine a light it would almost glow metallic.

In the night, two figures just stood in front, for a moment it felt like they were admiring the work of the architect, yet overtime anyone observing them would realize they were merely afraid. After about five minutes one of them finally approached the door and knocked twice. Within moments the door swung open slightly violently. In the doorway stood a tall butler. He wore traditional butler attire and made sure he was standing as straight as he could. With a low, calm and slow voice he spoke to the two filthy men standing on the porch in front of him, “How may i assist…. You.”

“We are The Cobalt Company.”

“I know.” he scoffed, “We have met several times.”

“Then why you asking?” Verner asked back confused.

“Is the job complete?” The butler asked a more clear question since the vagueness of his last question went over both gentlemen’s heads.

“Oh yes we have found the perfect spot.”

“Good, please head up to the office on the second floor, the body is on the ground by the fireplace. And don’t forget to bring the firewood up as well.” He left the doorway and faded into the house. The gravediggers brought up all the wood they could in one trip and headed upstairs where they had been directed. The interior of the house was elegant. Paintings hung along most of the walls and shelves were full of antiques and antiquities. The house had been cleaned recently, not a single dust particle was seen on anything. The floor they walked on had been freshly waxed wood. It shined in the candle light that lit the entirety of all the halls and rooms.

The black smooth staircase that leads up to the second floor, was carved in an asymmetrical pattern. It looked chaotic yet organized. The two men hauled up the wood to the office. The door was cracked open, enough to knock open with a soft shoulder push. The office itself was more well lit than the rest of the house. At the far end was an expertly crafted desk, with a fully covered wall window behind it. Massive black curtains protected the room from any sunlight that would attempt to enter. Even though it was the dead of night the giant black fabric was still hanging over the window. The door they walked through was not the only door in the office. On the west wall of the room another double door separated the office and what appeared to be a dinning room. The room is mostly visible through the open doors. They could see a few people wearing extravagant black robes, coats, and vests hanging out and talking inside. On the table were porcelain plates and platters covered in what looked like food. All the food was dark red and liquid could be seen dripping off the white table cloth onto the floor.

Verner noticed that when one of the gentlemen in the dining room laughed, he had two sharper teeth sticking out of the top of his gums almost like fangs. He turned and made eye contact with Verner looking deep into him. Verner will never forget those eyes and that smile. The face of a man who was living his fullest life, but at the cost of others and wicked ways.

The butler walked up to the double doors of the dining room and closed it not looking up at the men in the office.

At the desk of the office sat the mistress of the house. She wore only black. Her long dress almost see through. Her pale white skin could be seen through bat designs sewn into the thin fabric. From most people's perspective she was gorgeous. Fair and smooth skin, facial features that could be spotted even in low light. She smiled. She too had fanged teeth within her smile. Blood dripped off the tips of both the enlarged fangs.

When the two gravediggers grabbed the body from off the floor of the office they saw two holes in the neck of this beautiful corpse. The blonde girl in their arms looked no older than 25. Her body felt lighter, almost drained of blood. The mistress watched the men she hired multiple times carry away her latest meal.

“Thank you gentlemen,” her words pierced the air with a soothing sharpness, causing both of them to stop only for a moment midstep. She grabbed a copper fork from the top of her desk. Next to it, a plate with a spongy dark chocolate cake. Her fork slowly stabbed into the perfectly baked pastry. A bite size piece rested on top of the fork. She slowly inserted it into her mouth, blood dripping onto it. She savored the flavour combination enjoying the single bite alone for a couple moments. Her face showed true bliss. The question in her head was only which flavour was richer.

Verner watched her take that bite of cake as he left her office, “Pleasure Lady Jill.”

Under her breath she giggled, “Jill the Ripper.”