InsaneJournal

Orla kept her eyes focused firmly on the stairs under her feet as she moved swiftly down the flight, making very sure not to look over the railing and the vertical drop on the other side of it. It was silly, really, but the terribly morbid image of her tripping and falling over the edge, plummeting the dozen or so meters to the solid basement floor never failed to pass through her mind whenever she looked fully down. At least she’d already be in the Morgue, she thought ruefully, and sighed in gentle relief as she reached the top of the final staircase and began the trip down the last several stairs.

She hadn’t previously the chance to visit this section of the building during her short time working at St. Mungos. Orla was a healer, not a mortician, and only a trainee one at that. None of the patients she had dealt with so far had been bad enough along that they had ended up in the morgue. Not all of the healers on her floor were so lucky, however. Death was in inescapable part of their work and, as the healer she was currently shadowing stated, if the hardest part of your job is something you can’t escape, you may as well start getting used to it.

Orla suspected the older witch had simply wanted to get rid of her; she did tend to ask some of the odder questions on a round, she would admit, but regardless motive, it didn’t change the fact she was here now. Her mentor for the day had shoved a coroners report into her hands, stating she had some questions on the level of toxins in a recently deceased patient’s body, and shooed Orla away to go get the answers from the coroner himself rather than simply sending him a note. The odd gleam in the older witches eye when she’d sent the stammering girl away made Orla questions just what could be wrong with the morgue, but it wasn’t as though she had much of a choice.

Having finally reached the basement, she cracked open the heavy door to the morgue, only to have her shoulders slump in disappointment when she heard the echoing of a voice. Of course she would come by when the coroner was already busy dealing with someone. Now she’d not only have to try and talk to someone new, she’d have to interrupt a conversation as well, or stand uselessly outside and have to admit to eavesdropping when they came out. Lingering in the slightly chilled basement wasn’t too unpleasant of a prospect, actually, but she’d been sent on a mission. A most likely pointless one, but one that she was going to complete regardless come hell or high water or even having to interact with strangers in a quasi-social situation.

She took a deep breath, her nose wrinkling slightly at the smell of the room, and shoved the door fully open, knocking far more weakly on the door frame that she had intended to as she entered the Morgue.