In the woods about four or five kilometers away from the steel factory.
There was an old cabin, covered in dust and spider webs. A rat that had poked its head out looked at the person inside, who was bound hand and foot and blindfolded, with a look of utter confusion. After a couple of squeaks, it bravely climbed onto a man.
"Oh! Shit! Damn it! Damn it!" The man shuddered and twisted his body vigorously, making strange noises. This sound was so abrupt in the oppressive atmosphere that it gave everyone else quite a scare.
"Bogdan? Bogdan, what's wrong with you!"
"What are you yelling for! Shut up! Idiot, do you want the drug traffickers to kill us?"
These people were, remarkably, "kidnapped" journalists.
"There's... something's climbed into my crotch! Help... help me." The photographer named Bogdan's voice was tinged with a sob.
Men, well...
You can lose your face, your money, even your life, but not your manhood.
