Being in a prisoner of war camp was not something you ever expected to happen. And from the shouts and screams you heard as you were dragged in, it was going to be hell.

Being tossed in an overcrowded cell, you fell to the concrete floor, your blood mingling with the dirt and urine laying around on it. The other prisoners just stared down at you, as if they were zombies... but one of them knelt in front of you, reaching out a hand to help you up.

"My name is Farah. What is yours?"