diez

KALOTA

I just watch the man go and can't do anything but sob again. I would like to run after him. But that's not possible. And so, I'm rubbing my fists over my eyes and I can't believe what just happened here. But he took my paralysis away. I felt the pain. These drove me insane. But they also showed that I'm still alive. That I'm still able to feel something. And now? Now that feeling sinks back into a swamp that takes everything away from me - that makes everything around me seem dull.

Then Platura enters and looks me over. He doesn't seem shocked at the sight of me. Yeah, actually not even surprised. But instead of saying anything, he gestures with his hand for me to follow. I nod slightly and start walking slowly. Every step pulls painfully. But as it was before, so it is again now. The pain is lost in the dark. We walk down the hall and this time I take in more of my surroundings. It looks almost spooky here. There are candles everywhere. But somehow the many small light sources don't break through the blackness. It still looks too dark here. And it's so unusually quiet. That sends a shiver down my spine. I think about what I just experienced. I see the man in front of me again. He doesn't look familiar to me. But how? I'm hardly outside of my district and the upper class rarely strays into my area. And if only to ride through as quickly as possible. And I hardly even get that. My life consists of work, sleep and work. So it doesn't interest me very much if one of them enters my area.

But he seemed almost panicked to me as he removed the blindfold. As if he expected to find anything on me. I can't really explain it to myself. But what I do know is that he must clearly be very well-heeled. And that's not just due to the fact that he apparently booked this house completely for himself. But in the voice. This has been really pleasant. It almost sounded to me like he was singing. Melodic. Not like Zaret. Not so scary and growling. And yet she has been powerful. But in a different way. One I didn't know before.

Otherwise, the exterior has hardly been grasped by me. I was too busy for that. There is only one thing that I remember well. The green eyes. Although these seemed a bit dull, they were fascinating. I have never seen such green. The black hair underlined this even more. Something is ringing for me. That I'm missing something. Something important. A fact I should know. But I can't pursue it any further when Platura opens a door.

Normally, I would probably try to appear shy or at least show through my posture that I see his authority. But not today. The paralysis makes me act differently. I really can't say if that's good or bad. But this time I have a cool head. I feel like I can think better. Otherwise, I've always been excited. Not today. So, I look at the room curiously instead of shyly. It is a room for overnight guests. A bed is on the window side and otherwise there are only two chairs. And Platura is pointing to one of them - making me understand that I should sit down. I immediately shake my head. "I'd rather stay where I am." Yes, I don't want to expose myself to pain this time. The following conversation is too important for that.

He smiles slightly, then shrugs his shoulders to show he doesn't care about my decision. But lets himself flop down on the chair with a satisfied sigh.

"You got the job." Platura looks at me, probably expecting something like joy. But I can't give that to him. So, I just nod and wait to see what else he has to say. He furrows his eyebrows briefly, but collects himself back pretty quickly.

"Twice a week you come here." He stops again and looks at me closely. He probably wants to make sure I really understand what he's saying. So, I want to do him this favor and take a deep breath before I start speaking: "Okay." Yes, not much. But I wouldn't know what to say to that either. It's clear that I'm not to the man can go home, after all his wife and children will be waiting for him there.

And now he seems a bit more bothered by my reaction. Platura leans against the chair and looks at me again. "Do you know who your customer is?"

I immediately shake my head and he nod once. As if the answer from me would explain my disinterested behavior. "We'll give you a dress. So that you don't attract attention here. You never wear panties or a corset underneath." He chuckles lightly, which now confuses me. What's so amusing about not having to wear any underwear? After all, that's not an unusual request from a customer. It just goes to show that Platura must be thinking about why I shouldn't wear underwear, the event that accompanies it, and not the fact per se.

"Do you understand?" I wince because the voice is a bit louder and I've been so deep in my thoughts. But I'm right back with Platura and nod. "Yes, I have."

"Good." The grin still adorns his face and I'm getting more and more amazed. But it really doesn't matter. Let him enjoy it. Then at least one person in the room is happy.

"Then let's get to the payment." And right now, my heart is beating faster. Money. Money that I need so badly and that could perhaps generate a glimmer of hope. This would be weak. A slight glimmer on the dark horizon. But I need more No. I've never had more than this little strip.

"You get five pennies a meeting." I hear what he's saying. I get the words. But not the content. Five pennies? That's only ten a week. I guess that's just a bad joke. I can't, after all received from other customers.Even when Platura was with me, I got more.

And again, I notice his attitude and also the voice. He doesn't sound like the rich man. he sounds like me Tthat's exactly what makes the scales fall from my eyes. Platura must also come from the poorer part of town. That's probably why he gave me the gold coin. Sympathy. He knows when a growl in your stomach keeps you awake. When future prospects control all thoughts and actions. And before I can think about what I'm saying, the words spill out of my mouth, "That's not enough."

And at this moment time seems to stand still. He stops mid-movement and just raises both eyebrows. It is obvious that he does not know how to hear contradiction. But I'm serious. And so, I stretch my chin a bit and just look into his eyes. I find it difficult to make eye contact. Infinitely heavy. But I will never back down. Platura also seems to notice this. He leans against the chair and sighs softly.

"It has to be enough." No anger. No accusations. It sounds rather sober. Like a fact that cannot be disputed. But I can't just get so little money. Not that it wouldn't be enough for me. I could live with it. But Zaret is still omnipresent. I still don't want to give him anything anymore, but I'm not stupid - I know what he's doing. The ruthlessness. And so I'm aware that my project won't be easy. That he somehow my money will come. And that's just not enough for this case. And so, I shake my head. "Then I can't take the job." That too is true. I cannot. It's just not possible for me to make a living with Zaret hanging over my head like a sword.

And that now seems to amuse Platura. He laughs softly and shakes his head. Actually, I wanted to turn around. Just step out and put it behind me, but that gurgling sound is what makes me falter in mid-movement.

"You'll either willingly accept or I'll force you." Then he looks at me, eyes sparkling with glee. As if what we're discussing is actually funny.

"You really have no idea what girl?" He lets out another snort of amusement before struggling to regain his composure. It takes a little while and I'm getting more and more perplexed. What the hell is he thinking? I'm a free woman. Good "Maybe I don't own any land. No money. But I have the right to make my own decisions. Nevertheless, no rebuke sounds from me. I may act differently than usual. But I'm not tired of life.

I can imagine that he is an outsider for high society. One who encounters distance rather than real friendliness. And most likely because of the origin he is not so accepted. But with me it's different. I see the fire in him. That he walks over corpses. That he knows how to get his way. He intimidates me. Subtly shows his cruelty. Hardly to hear. And yet present. At least for me. He rubs his face before turning back to me. "We can't pay more, but I'm interested in a free meeting. So, tell me something else."

And what I just said takes my breath away. It lights a candle in my darkness. This is small. Hardly to hear. But for me it is the world. I take a deep breath, want to sort my strength - my thoughts. It could all end. all my worries my fears the hopelessness. Exactly here.

"There is a man who is blackmailing me and attacking me." I glance at my stomach and Platura does the same. "I don't want him to ever hurt me again." And with that comes the anger. The anger at Zaret. The anger at my helplessness, and the anger at what he did to me - what he snatched from me.

"I want him to die." And as monotonous as my voice used to sound, it's so firm now. I look at Platura. I really fix my eyes on him. I want him to see that I'm serious. That if he fulfills that, nothing stands in the way of a meeting. He nods slightly and a small smile emerges from him. "Yes, we should be able to work that out."

***

I'm back in my room. Two days have passed. Two miserably long days. I keep staring at the door and imagining Platura walking in and telling me I'm safe now. I should feel remorse about my wish. Should feel something like shame. But nothing. Not at all. Rather the opposite is the case. I feel hope. This is my first chance to really improve something in my life. At the time, I thought that only getting out of prostitution could help me get my life together. But maybe that's enough for now. One small step.

Then I could have all my money. And not just me. Claire too. All the other women, they suffer from Zaret. It would be a start. Of course, I'm aware that someone else could take his place. But that one would have a hard time. Zaret built it up. By his reputation. through his behavior. Through all the little intimidations. That would not be so easy to create for someone else. And so I actually have faith that my wish would do something good.

The only thing that makes me suspicious in retrospect is the quick confirmation. Platura didn't even bat an eyelid. It only confirms my suspicion that he really is more cruel than it appears. Still, it confuses me. There weren't any questions. No hesitation. As if it were normal for him. An everyday question. And that makes me chill every time. There's a fear in me that I'll go from one madman to the next. But these very thoughts I trample down. I can take care of that later.

Only Zaret counts now. It's the third day. He said he's coming to see me today. And so I just stare at the door while twisting my knife in my fingers. The knife that was supposed to help me commit suicide. My blood is still on it. It should show me that I have to persevere. No matter how desperate I am. There comes a door. A small candle. Sometime.

I look at the blade again and smile slightly. It's not that I feel any better. No way. But now I have a thread to hold on to. No matter how skinny he is. And as I look at the dried blood, my door slams open. And at this very moment time seems to stand still. My breathing becomes shallow. my heart is racing I take another deep breath. I want to think. Platura or Zaret? Who is standing here now? A breeze is carried through the open door to me. And so, I have the answer.

I don't have to look. Don't need a look to know who's standing there. The smell is enough. Sulfur. Sulfur mixed with dirt. And that's exactly what makes me forget everything for a moment. I feel sick. Unbelievably bad, how can he be here.

"You little..." The last word is lost in a growl. And at that moment I'm sure that even a wolf couldn't let such a threat resonate with that sound. But exactly this growl wakes me up. I jump immediately on and finally I'm able to see Zaret.

He is hurt. Blood. There are deep wounds all over his body and they still seem to be bleeding. This means that the attack cannot be old. But the worst thing is that the blood gives him an even more dangerous look. He looks like a fighter. Someone who wants to hurt me. I want to beg him to just leave. want to run away I want to pounce on him. So many hearts are beating in my chest right now. So many reactions to his appearance. But all I do is stare at him.

Zaret also only looks at me and the hate in his eyes takes me downright - goes inside me and makes me tremble. Then a smile creeps onto his face. And this is exactly what carries such a revulsion that makes me grip the handle of the knife tighter. God, I'm so incredibly cold. Zaret slowly closes the door and that's probably the most intimidating thing he could have done. I'm being denied the chance to escape. He gives me time to think. And above all, it shows that he feels absolutely safe.

And so I can only shake my head as I take a step back. But my room is small, too small. There is already the wall in my back.

"You shouldn't have done that, Kalota." The voice is calm. As if he really wants to explain something I don't already know. But he doesn't. Now I know it was a mistake. I did really thought that someone could snatch me from the clutches of this monster? And so I groan in despair. Yes, I believed Platura. With all his confidence he infected me. And that's exactly what hit me. How can I be stupid enough to trust a stranger?

But I can't pursue that any further because Zaret comes up to me. Slow. He approaches me almost leisurely. And with that he robs me of all thinking. He can't reach me. God, the aggressiveness of his is taking over every fiber of my being. And so I push myself along the wall. In the direction of the chimney. But Zaret only acknowledges my attempt to get away from him with an amused snort.

Another drop of blood runs down his forehead and only now do I notice that his hair is also covered in blood. He immediately wipes it away and when he sees the red on his hand, his eyes darken again. That should scare me. But that's not the case. Suddenly I seem to understand that he is hurt. Vulnerable. So, I raise my hand a little, in which the knife is still. "You don't scare me." My voice belies my words. It trembles and I could scold myself for this weakness. Zaret seems to see it that way too, because he laughs hard.

This brief glimmer on the otherwise so dark horizon was enough. And just looking at each other makes me wish that I never felt the hope. Then I would probably be dead now and not have to move in the circle of my life again.

"You're not scared, are you?" he growls, and there's that rumble again, which only increases his power over me. Very slowly, he kneels down in front of me and bows his head slightly. what I have to do to make you really panic." And as the words fill the room, all I can do is shake my head frantically. no Why can't he leave me alone? I've done so much for him - I've endured everything. And for what? For treating me like dirt over and over again. Each time I've encountered disgust. And I always smiled anyway - endured all the bullying. And in return, he makes me suffer even more.

"Please just leave me alone," I whisper, and as soft as these words are, they contain my dearest wish. I don't want to be pushed around like a puppet anymore. How can I be free and yet trapped? How can they be my constant companions in both circumstances?

Zaret snorts indignantly and shakes his head slightly. Thick strands of hair stuck together by blood hang far down his forehead and the scar suddenly looks a lot more threatening to me. "No."

A word. Not anymore and yet it makes something die inside me, so that I sob softly. I don't want to see him anymore, so I look down. And that's where I recognize the knife. It's still in my hands. I didn't even realize it - didn't even think about it anymore.

"I'm just getting started, Kalota." There's a promise in the words. One that tells me I'll never escape him. He's created a cage for me to live in as long as he wants. Zaret rambles with a fingertip across my cheek. It's tender, but it evokes absolute disgust in me. And hatred. So, I just look up again, realizing the seriousness of what he's saying. And without thinking about it, I raise the knife and ram it all with the strength I had left it straight into his forearm.