The Golden Maze
The mud was thick. It sucked at the boots of Sergeant Elias Thorne. The rain fell hard. It turned the trench into a river of brown sludge. Elias pulled. He dragged the body. The man was heavy. Wet. The mud clung to the uniform. It clung to the skin. The rain did not stop. It never stopped. The sky was a sheet of gray iron. The air smelled of wet wool and iron. Elias gasped. His lungs burned. He...
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