Extend the Story - Add a Room

The sky was a foreboding gray that promised rain, meaning another frigid afternoon in the freezing, wet outdoors. Your uniform is now your prison garb, the filthy gray cloth distinguishing you from the cruel blue around you. The prisoners are ill-fed and suffer from diphtheria and cholera. Every day is the same; back-breaking work to mine raw iron and coal to help the enemy war effort, which was salt in the wound. The Yankee officers liked to whip the prisoners of war, watching their bleeding, raw backs with amusement. More than once you regret surrendering in the trench that day; heavily outnumbered, it had seemed the best thing to do, but now you see that there are fates far worse than death, and the common animosity of humankind knew no bounds in such an environment. Your days are numbered, and you know it. Whether death came in the form of a bullet, a whip, starvation, or disease, it would be a sweet release from this hell on earth.

For several blissful hours, you surf on a wave of oblivion...
When your crusty eyes finally open, you have no idea where you are. Your skull throbs with a migraine that not only hurt but distorted your thoughts in its sheer volume. You try to touch the sore patch on your head but your hands are securely bound to each other and to your feet. That is when you realize two things: first, that you are completely naked, and second, that you are surrounded by Apaches. The unfortunate few who were captured alongside you were all conscious; it seemed you had been the only one who had been knocked out in the fray. Most of the recruits seemed dazed, like they had no clue where they were or why they were there. The more experienced men knew their situation and watched their captors with grim acceptance.
In your chest is a soul-crushing sense of defeat. It would have been better for you to die in the canyon, relatively painlessly, then to live through what was to come. It was the second time in your life that you had held such a sentiment. The Apaches were for the most part tending to their camp. Two large fires burned in the center and many tepees had been erected. Some of the young bucks sat on the ground half-naked and watched the prisoners with glee. Many fresh scalps hung outside the huts of the men who had taken them.
That night you and several other unlucky souls were subject to harsh beatings. The Indians were not happy with the losses they had sustained, but were all to ready to avenge their fallen comrades. They stomped, kicked, slapped, and punched you, deliberately aiming for your soft, vulnerable parts. When they had tired of their fun they receded into their tepees to sleep. You tried to do the same, but could not. In your mind were many colorful scenarios of what the next day could bring, and some of the soldiers sobbed to themselves throughout the night.

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