Morelos State. Inside the Izukar Border Prison.
It's actually just a massive frozen warehouse.
Now used to detain captured militia members and drug traffickers.
Hundreds of people crammed inside, shivering as cold wind cuts through. Many still covered in wounds, moaning and groaning. Some hugged each other to stay warm, while others had already frozen stiff, their wide-open eyes staring blankly.
Honestly, it's hard not to laugh.
"Get up! Get up!"
At that moment, a squad of Armored Army soldiers stormed in, banging on the iron door with force and pointing at them, shouting. When one of them moved too slowly, a soldier smashed a rifle butt into his head, cracking his skull open instantly. Blood sprayed out like a sudden gush of menstrual blood.
"Everyone, get outside, line up, hands on the shoulders of the person in front of you."
Hundreds of people shuffled forward like "zombies," their heads hanging low.
