There was this ringing. This terrible ringing that echoed in your ears.

You opened your eyes with a pained expression. Bright white light flooded your vision. The feeling of tears running down your cheeks dripped over your skin, leaving a sticky feeling. With shaky breath, you managed to stand up.

Nausea danced through your head. You stumbled a few steps, then all at once your vision cleared.

A calm landscape appeared before your eyes. The green was so strong that at first you thought it was an illusion. Then the blue sky above your head awoke and clouds passed by.

Everything felt so fake, so bright and blurry. It wasn't until the wind brushed your skin that you took a deep breath and allowed yourself to accept that this was reality.

You could feel your hands shaking. And there was such a strange feeling. As if something was sticking to your fingers.

You had to swallow hard. For some reason there was this bad premonition.

"Shit.", you whispered and took a quick look at your fingers.

They were drenched in red, like you'd dipped them in a bucket of paint. But you knew for sure it wasn't paint. You've seen enough injuries to know what blood looked like and how it felt on bare skin.

A trembling whimper escaped your lips. Quickly you closed your eyes and tried to breathe evenly. While you were cleaning your fingers on the legs of your trousers, a sudden rustling sound came from behind you.

You didn't react to it, too busy not to get crazy about the blood. As a precaution, you also wiped your face with your sleeve, noticing that you were no longer wearing the jacket.

Confused, you opened your eyes. You were wearing a t-shirt. It was strange, you weren't wearing a t-shirt before, but a sweater. This shirt was unknown to you. It looked like an army shirt, beige and with a name tag on the chest.

Your first name was stitched into it.

The cold wind brushed your bare arms and made goosebumps grow.

"You are awake. Very good.", a voice suddenly sounded.

Startled, you turned around, your fingers clenched into a fist.

"Jacob.", his name left your lips as if it were natural to call him.

He stood before you with a rigid expression on his face. His eyes wandered over your body, then he tilted his head slightly and nodded as if satisfied with the sight.

"You have done a good job. I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised.", a mild smirk appeared on his lips.

"What the hell happened?!", you angrily went after him, full of will to rip his face off. "You fucking weirdo!"

But before your fist could reach him, he grabbed your wrist and squeezed so hard that a sharp pain shot through your arm.

"What a bad behaviour. I'll change that."

He squeezed harder, rubbing the bones against each other.

"Argh!", you doubled over. "Shit, let go of me!"

"Not until you calm down again, pup."

"Then tell me why I have blood on my hands!"

An amused grin appeared on his face. Slowly he bent down to you, so far that the tip of his nose brushed against your cheek.

"What do you think?", he asked in a low voice. "Blood comes from within. You have to open something to get to the inside."

His eyes locked with yours.

You had to swallow hard.

"What-what did I kill?", you asked.

He let go of your hand. When he did, it felt strange, his fingers stroked your skin, almost gently, and he seemed uninterested in hurting you.

"What you killed?", he tilted his head as if he wanted to look at you from all sides.

"Who?"

He nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. You learn quickly. That's good."

You took a deep breath. Suddenly the world didn't seem so colorful and it was as if the light had faded. Now it was darker, paler, but still broad daylight. It was as if you had woken up from a daydream and returned to reality.

"Hm, you're tolerating the Bliss better than I thought.", he grabbed your chin with one hand and lifted it a bit so he could look into your eyes. "And you don't have any issues besides sweating. What a good pup I've caught."

Your breath hitched as he touched you. Despite the rough skin, he felt warm.

"Bliss? What-what is that?", a shiver suddenly crawled down your spine.

"Drugs.", he said it as if it were natural.

"Fucking hell.", you groaned. "Shit...I- ugh...of course...what did I expect? And this?"

You raised your hands.

The blood had already started to dry. It smelled like wet iron and was cold as snow.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I did not know his name."

"It-it was a human being?"

He nodded.

"Your first time, but it won't be the last. Not if you want to survive here. You'll get used to it."

With bated breath, you stared at him.

You were angry. Your fingers were trembling.

But you were also afraid. You were afraid of what he would do if you attacked him.

He was not only tall but also powerfully built. The way he looked at you showed that he was used to killing. And he would not hesitate.

You didn't want to die. As horrible as the thought of being drugged and having someone's blood on your hands was, it was even worse to know that one word would end your life.

"You're upset, it happens.", his words sounded calm, but the way he looked at you told that he felt a hint of satisfaction. "Come. It's not far until we get back."

He turned around, but you hesitated. Your gaze wandered over his back, but stopped on his leg. There was a holster strapped to his thigh in which a knife was stored. For a moment, your gaze was glued to that knife. Your fingers twitched, but fear made your legs tremble.

He noticed that you were still standing in the same spot. Briefly, Jacob threw a glance over his shoulder.

At the touch of his eyes, you rushed to his side, your gaze lowered.

"Good.", he patted your head. "You start to learn how a good dog acts. I'm proud of you, pup."

You smiled briefly, your head still lowered and your eyes fixed onto the knife.

It was in reach. Just one quick movement.

He turned around again.

In that exact moment, you reached out. Your fingers wrapped around the handle. With one pull, you claimed the knife and pressed it against his throat.

"Don't move.", you hissed. "I'm a bit nervous today."