Soldier: 2050 A.D.
Lieutenant Ford was in trouble. His transport had gone down on the wrong side of the DMZ. He was the only survivor. His only chance was to get back across the border before dawn, and try to avoid the patrols.
The loud click of an automatic rifle was the first sign that he’d failed.
Ford woke up on a ratty cot in what looked like a psychopath’s bedroom. There was writing on the walls and floor, in several languages, and the air smelled of old blood and death.
His jumpsuit had been taken, leaving only his thin, white undershirt. A quick glance revealed that that was all he was wearing beneath the soiled blanket that had been draped over him. A set of electronic cuffs connected by a thick cord connected his wrists.
“Good morning, Lieutenant.” A scratchy voice called out from nearby. “Do you have any physical conditions I should know about before we begin?”
Ford looked up groggily, searching for the source of the voice.
“I am dying to know why your government has decided to violate our territory this time….”
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