Jens’ cheek touched wet grass and his little body lay on muddy, cold ground, feeling heavy as lead. He whimpered faintly. "Shhh! Don't move! Don't talk! Act like dead!" The voice above his head was just a low hiss. He obeyed. As if from far away, he heard loud jeering and laughter and mocking shouts. Every now and then he heard loud, horrified screams, full of fear and panic, which stopped abruptly each time. Something heavy was then dragged towards him and dumped somewhere next to him. And then everything started all over again. Jens gritted his teeth and tried to dream himself far away. It had always helped so far - but not this time... Loud screams again, another voice he knew. Fiete, seventeen years old - he had cooked for the crew and had the most cheerful laugh Jens knew. Now he was screaming desperately and heartbreakingly for his mom. Again and again, until it ended with a thud and enthusiastic bawling could be heard. Something heavy was dumped on the pile next to Jens, something warm and damp dripped down on his cheek. He struggled to fight the scream that choked his throat. Paralyzing horror gripped him, pulled him into the depths, into a black pit, he fell, fell so deep…