It was a hard day today. From morning to night, you worked like an animal, and what did you get in return? You think nothing, don’t you? No, you were kidnapped. You were walking home after work last night, stopping on the way to the store for a soda bottle. Although alcohol would be nice too, you thought, and took a bottle of strong cognac, moving on. But your instinct kept on giving you the impression that something was going to happen, that paranoia was getting more and more serious. And if you had listened to your instinct then it wouldn’t have happened. Looks like someone came up behind you and knocked you out, most likely it was. I mean, the sound of the punch and the broken bottle, the sound of the broken glass, the confirmation of the theory that you were hit on the head. You should have hit me harder. You open your eyes, you can barely raise your eyelids, and it looks like you’ve been out for a long time, since you’re not in some cold room, you’re in some infirmary or something. The door opened and a man came in. He was young and sweet. When he saw that you were awake, he said, "How are you?" He had food in his hands, apparently for you. You decided to ask who he was and what he wanted?