He didn’t want to go to the well to get the water, but his mother insisted. She didn’t understand why he was scared. It was his job, he was old enough now. And so he walked out into the dark with the bucket.
Sure enough, up came the whisper from deep in the well. “Ion. Ion? Are you there?”
“No!” he cried, and clutched the bucket to his chest.
“Ion. Is it done yet? Are they dead?”
“No! I won’t do it!”
“Ion, make it easy for yourself: just poison the water. Here, lower the bucket and you’re halfway done.”