"Who says I don't see the danger?" My lower lip is still trembling and I feel more and more vulnerable. I know that I'm facing Xerxe's monster here. That it could jump out of its cover at any time, just to be merciless to ram his claws into me. I would need someone to protect me. To put their hand over me and at least keep the greatest dangers away. But there is no one. I have to fend for myself. Like always.
He snorts and wrinkles his nose. Seems almost a little irritated. "You're standing here even though I told you that I'm constantly plagued by thoughts of murder?" I still hold his gaze, but I can't stop myself from shaking more and more. I'm unspeakably cold. But it's coming this time not from the temperatures in this room No, the man in front of me creates that feeling.
He leans forward, brushing my hair back down my back. "So either you don't believe me or you're dumber than I thought." The voice is lowered. Almost neutral. And yet the coldness in it can be clearly heard. This makes me shiver even more. Goosebumps me slowly absorbing and showing Xerxes only too clearly the effect his words have on me.
He is serious. Every fiber of his screams that Xerxes is losing control. And still a voice screams loudly in me that I could still choose the iron maiden. If I'm fast enough, I could duck into their protection. It's paradoxical that even a torture device seems safer than the man with the green eyes. But there is something else besides the whirlwind inside me. Certainty. If I don't face Xerxes now, he'll never believe me. Then nothing would change. He would keep accusing me of lying. I would say no. It would be a whirlpool that pulls me deeper and deeper. Something I already know - something I experience every day. And here I finally see the opportunity to change something, at least in one respect. to break the circle. And so I just stand there. I'm anything but calm. And to say that I'm not afraid would be a lie. This cuts off the air I can breathe. And yet I know that this is the right path.
Xerxes straightens up a bit. And although he distances himself a little from me, his presence grows. But this time the darkness seems to transfer from him to me. For a very short time I have the feeling that I can see the absolutely evil in the green eyes.
"How long do you mean, before you beg me to go to the Iron Maiden?" His voice has changed. Somehow it seems deeper. The beautiful melody is gone. But I don't deal with that what was said too important I notice that he doesn't even doubt that I'm going to beg him about it.
"Not for long." That's probably true too. At some point I won't be able to endure the torment and want to escape from it anymore. Even if I think it would be the wrong way. Xerxes laughs and grabs a strand of my hair fingers and looks at them almost in a trance. "You really are an interesting person."
I would like to ask him what he means by that, but I can't get a word out. He scares me beyond words. There's that calculating kind again that I fear so much. I do not know. But this time something seems to be different. I just can't grasp what that is. Nevertheless I stop. Don't move me a damn millimeter.
"And do you think I'll give in to your plea?" Now he looks at me again and tugs at the strand between his fingers lightly. Not so much that I have to move my head, but enough that the tweak is present. He's trying to distract me from answering. That's obvious. But I learn from my mistakes. At least sometimes.
"No, probably not." And I'm starting to wonder why he's asking me all this. It's clear he's about to hurt me. The glint in his eyes shows it. So why is he delaying? Xerxes smiles and suddenly I feel like an open book, the twisted grin on his lips is knowing.
"Tell me to start putting my words into action." It's obvious what he's getting at. Tell me to hurt me. To start the aggression myself. And the worst part is that I'm really thinking about it. I feel like I'm walking on a thin sheet of ice. One that separates me from the raging sea. And the layer of ice is melting. Slowly. Ceaselessly. It's the uncertainty that drives me driving me insane. It is clear that there is no escape. The sea will take me with it. But I could take the agony of waiting. Just one leap and the ice would shatter beneath me.
I swallow hard and Xerxes reaches around me. This puts her even closer to me. "Isn't it exciting that we weigh things up ourselves in such situations?" he whispers and I tremble under his words. It shows that Xerxes is also familiar with this situation.
"But there is one more thing, Kalota." He grabs the rope, loosens the knot from the hook and that's exactly where the train is over. The rope is now only hanging on the collar and very slowly he pulls the iron for me out. And just as I'm about to take a deep breath of relief, he scrapes the tip of the hook across my skin. But even that goes under. I'm transfixed for the next words. Xerxes takes his time, however. Positions a little closer me. I can feel the warmth from him. Hear his calm breathing. Then I would probably be able to detect a tenseness in his muscles and at least be somewhat prepared. And as the hook arrives at my shoulder and just slides over it, they meet again our looks.
"The fact that you're still able to weigh shows you're not scared enough." The last part of the sentence drops the voice dangerously. And I'm so prepared to have the hook rammed into my skin that I I don't pay attention to Xerxes' hands. I don't notice how he positions them on my breasts. It's only when he pushes me back that I realize the danger isn't in the hook. It's the iron maiden's open door. The nails moving are also in this one. But before this knowledge has seeped into me, it will be too late. Xerxes pushes me to the door. Into the middle of the nails.
And this time it's no easy scraping. No pecking. The metal is rammed right through my skin by Xerxes. Still, I want to look Xerxes in the eye. Face my tormentor. He looks back at me. Slightly smiles and the black hair is tousled on his head. And in that moment, I realize he just lost the battle inside.
It's almost over. The knowledge makes me smile faintly, and as all tension drains from my body, Xerxes releases me.
With that, my grip is gone. My legs cannot bear the weight of my body. I just collapse. A shrill scream whips through the room. But even that sounds so far away. As if I were in another room. Then I hit the ground. The dizziness gets bigger. God, I feel like I'm about to throw up. And despite the fog in my head, I can feel the flames on my back. How these cause endless pain. I make a strained tone. I want to raise my head, but I can't. I have to gag immediately. The world is spinning around me, so I just close my eyes. Surrender me to faint.
But I'm not allowed to. Something hits me hard on the side. Brings me a little more into reality. I gasp, clenching my eyes convulsively, but the fog clears. And that's how I see Xerxes turning me onto my back. Elicited an anguished sound from me. God, all the skin on my back must be torn. It feels like everything is an open wound.
"Look at me," Xerxes barks, not a shred of sympathy to be heard. As if he doesn't give a damn about what he's doing to me. And he probably is. He told me - said he would It takes other people's suffering. I overestimated myself. Really thought our resemblance would give me an advantage. How naïve I am. Still, I want to comply. But even lifting the eyelids seems like an insurmountable task. It keeps popping up The orange glow of the torches, however, is immediately plunged back into darkness. But Xerxes gives me time. And it's only when I open my eyes that he speaks: "You're really fascinating, Kalota."
He tilts his head slightly and I would like to laugh. Fascinating. That would probably be the last word I would think of in this situation. But before I could even try to answer, a scraping sounded. One created by dragging iron along stone. And that clears the fog out of my head entirely now. I immediately look next to me. Recognize the knife. Xerxes follows my gaze and sneers.
"You know, my father was a despicable man." He lifts the blade between us and turns it slightly. Lets the glow of the torches dance on the silver. "But he had his good ideas." And now Xerxes looks from the knife to me. The look alone is enough to make a whimper squeeze down my throat. Death lurks in the green eyes. It's slowly coming over to me. "Part of it was that each of his victims was given a mark." Xerxes squats, but I only half perceive it. The word sacrifice echoes heavily in my head. Steals everything from me. Only one thought is present: If I If I don't fight back now, he'll slaughter me right here, right on this floor.