It was a hot night at the end of the summer as I tried to find a comfortable way to sleep.
Summer at Camp Hell was… well… hell.
Unwashed bodies, feces, urine, and other bodily fluids I chose not to identify smelled all that much worse in 40-degree weather.
Flies were becoming as attracted to living bodies as they were to dead bodies, and I now had to keep my eyes open for eggs and larvae every time I closed a new wound.
Speaking of… The innocent girl, the one with the two boyfriends, died a month ago.
Her John, or whatever name they called the VIPs, stuck the knife in a little too deep one night, and she died before I could heal her.
Her men took it hard.
Less than a week later, they ended up killing each other in their cell.
Alpha thought that they had beaten the crap out of each other and eventually died because of all of the fighting had made them go insane.
