The door shut and he was gone. At that moment, Evžénie forgot his rank. But she would never forget his short moustache waving over her, how the lips under it were feverishly mumbling something in that repulsive language. How he snorted when he humped. She slid down to the floor. Her back against the wall, she lighted a cigarette and again read the letter with a brief and clear instruction. She spilled the powder from the little vial to the General’s glass. Was he the same man with whom she slept that night? Evžénie did not know that. Everything blurred together, she saw everything through a fog…

This article was originally published: Charles Bo Nielsen, Claus Raasted (editoři): The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014. Rollespilsakademiet 2015. ISBN 978-87-92507-23-5 https://web.archive.org/web/20160305012411/
http://rollespilsakademiet.dk/webshop/nordiclarpyearbook2014.pdf