* * *
Amongst the falling chunks of burnt charcoal and clouds of dust, a dark figure plummeted to the bottom of the drainage ditch with a heavy thud. Rats scurrying through the filth scattered in all directions, startled by the sudden intrusion.
The child moved his black eyes, gazing up at the ceiling where a round patch of moonlight shone through. Ivan’s head popped out from beyond the entrance of the drain. The child blinked slowly. Watching his movements like those of a hollow shell of a beast, Ivan swallowed hard.
The child’s body had already shown signs of recovery. Just a few hours ago, when Ivan had placed him on the cart, his upper body had looked like a ragged piece of cloth torn to shreds. His recovery was nothing short of miraculous.
