Vhelian kept his eyes on the children coming out of the basement.
Not once did he see a child who was neat. Every single one of them was gravely wounded.
That was on top of how malnourished they had become.
It was as if there was no flesh between their skin and bones. Their cheeks sunk deeply, their eyes dull. Their lips were utterly dry, flaky even. Their nails were completely black, showing through their fingers that were riddled with bruises.
Some of the children had infected wounds. There was also darkening on the edges of their cuts. Maggots had already begun eating through their flesh. It was a good thing because maggots prevented them from dying from sepsis right away.
The strong stench came from the amalgamation of rotting human flesh, body odor since the children had never been bathed, and the damp earth serving as the walls of the room.
