CHAPTER 2 – FATE LOVES A GOOD JOKE
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THE WEATHER MAN HADN’T been wrong this time. The sky lit with lightning and the downpour belted Victor’s face, half buried in the leaves scattered on the grove’s floor.
With a groan, Victor stirred under the cold rain, and opened his eyes with effort. Aches assaulted him from everywhere. Strange enough, his back felt numb.
‘How accurate. I’ll die under the rain,’ he groused with cynicism, his sight blurry. ‘Full circle, huh?’
Victor remembered his mother’s stories about his birth. He had laid eyes on the world in a small village in Transylvania in late September.
‘Yep, five more days and I’d have celebrated my birthday,’ he scoffed.
It had rained heavily the night he was born. His mother almost hadn’t made it to the new communal hospital.
