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We rush down the streets. I have no idea where we're going. Don't notice it either. Again and again I brace myself against the grip of Xerxes. Wants him to look at me or at least listen. But no matter how hard I begged, there was no response. At least not one that has shown me that he is willing to listen to me. Only a snort from his nose suggested that he heard me. But that's not enough for me. I don't want to go with him. His anger seems to grow with every step. And I can understand him. God, it would hurt me too if someone used that weakness against me. He probably really thinks I'm trying to gain his goodwill. That I want to take advantage of his position. But that's exactly what I don't do. So I brace myself against the train again don't notice that the hook hurts me. Constantly moving inside me and the pain getting worse. That is not important. I remember the chest ripper too well. Of the agony that robbed me of everything. In contrast, the hook is hardly worth mentioning.

That a noble knight will come around the corner and snatch me from Xerxes. But that doesn't happen. I'm not allowed any help. Like always. So I look ahead with a veiled gaze. I'm still fighting back the tears, but I can't really manage it. I'm too scared of what he intends to do with me now. After all, Xerxes told me he had murderous tendencies. Maybe he wants to pursue this now. Quench his thirst for blood through me. It could be. And yet there is a voice inside me that whispers to me that this will not happen. I can't even begin to say where it comes from. It's probably some kind of hope to keep me from going insane. So I look ahead with a veiled gaze. I'm still fighting back the tears, but I can't really manage it. I'm too scared of what he intends to do with me now. After all, Xerxes told me he had murderous tendencies. Maybe he wants to pursue this now. Quench his thirst for blood through me. It could be. And yet there is a voice inside me that whispers to me that this will not happen. I can't even begin to say where it comes from. It's probably some kind of hope to keep me from going insane. So I look ahead with a veiled gaze. I'm still fighting back the tears, but I can't really manage it. I'm too scared of what he intends to do with me now. After all, Xerxes told me he had murderous tendencies. Maybe he wants to pursue this now. Quench his thirst for blood through me. It could be. And yet there is a voice inside me that whispers to me that this will not happen. I can't even begin to say where it comes from. It's probably some kind of hope to keep me from going insane. Maybe he wants to pursue this now. Quench his thirst for blood through me. It could be. And yet there is a voice inside me that whispers to me that this will not happen. I can't even begin to say where it comes from. It's probably some kind of hope to keep me from going insane. Maybe he wants to pursue this now. Quench his thirst for blood through me. It could be. And yet there is a voice inside me that whispers to me that this will not happen. I can't even begin to say where it comes from. It's probably some kind of hope to keep me from going insane.

And then I recognize the castle. The way it looms menacingly against the star-studded sky and it becomes clear to me where we are going. He takes me home with him. This is not good. Not at all. I want to tear myself away again, but it doesn't work. Xerxes doesn't even look back. As if he doesn't even fear that I might escape. And he probably has every reason to think so. After all, Platura and the guards from the inn are bound to be near us. At the latest they would probably catch me. But despite this knowledge, I am not giving up. I want to snatch my arm from him. However, this only increases the pain caused by the grip. Eating up to my shoulders. And actually I should stop fighting back. It's hopeless. But I can't think straight, just know we can't leave the walls behind. Yeah, actually I shouldn't even get through it.

But even this thought is quickly shattered when we step on the bridge that lies over the moat. That moat that separates the castle from the actual city and thus robs me of any chance of escape. The wood creaks slightly under our steps and two guards become visible in front of us. The way they look at us and I automatically shake my head. Somehow want to signal that I don't belong here. I should be banned from entering. But they don't even look at me. Just look at Xerxes and make room for him without a word. Once again I catch the eye of one of the guards. My eyes widen and I keep shaking my head. But again he ignores me. And right at this moment I would like to scream. How can it be that I am not noticed? With God, I'm right here! My footsteps can be heard. To see my heavy breathing. And yet again I'm just being signaled that I'm a ghost. That my existence is worth nothing. It gives me a stab in my heart to be shown this over and over again. I experience this so often. And yet it hurts every time. I will never settle for being a nobody. Not while I'm alive.

But I shouldn't concern myself with that now. We step into the inner courtyard and my eyes dart around immediately. This time people are here. Or rather guards. Even though it's dark, I can clearly see that. The lances show that. How the axe-like head of the staff so long gleams silver in the moonlight. And that's when I really realized where I actually am. That I just entered the realm of the king. Xerxes area. It's actually an honor to be here. Simple people like me are never allowed in here. We only bring vermin. At least that's the belief. But I can't enjoy it. Rather, my breathing quickens even more, and although my chest rises and falls rapidly, I can't seem to get enough oxygen into my lungs. I shouldn't be here Xerxes would never take me to the castle unless he had a specific goal in mind. Something that should do me even more harm.

So I try one last time to reason with Xerxes. Catch up to him and look at him sideways. But again he doesn't look at me. Just keep staring straight ahead. "Please believe me," I whisper, all my desperation lying in what I'm saying. I want him to hear how little I want to be here. But he doesn't care. Much as he used to enjoy my cracked voice ", he doesn't seem to care now. And so I can only close my eyes in resignation as we walk on. It's over. The bridge must be going up right now. I'll never get out of here. At least as long as Xerxes wants me here. Only he has the power over it, no one else.

And even though my blood is pounding in my ears, I can still feel the sound of our footsteps changing. These resound. Immediately I want to look around again, so we stop. Nevertheless, I recognize that we are in a kind of tunnel and, above all, are right in front of a door. I look at Xerxes with wide eyes and now our eyes meet. That should make me happy. Finally he notices me. But the opposite is true. The sight of him sends an icy shiver down my spine. Even in the dark I recognize the contemptuous smile. The wrinkles that form around the mouth as a result.

to see the truth. to see the real me. He would rather stew alone in his specially created hell. wallow in it. I know that too well.

I never wanted to believe that anyone would end up like me. locked myself up It's a kind of self-protection. If I had shown it - if I had shown everyone my thoughts and my deep sadness and if there hadn't been anyone who feels the same way, then the loneliness would have crushed me. It is a closure to such a bitter reality. An illusory world that I wasn't even aware of. Until now. I don't even care that Xerxes is fighting something else. But he's struggling with himself - with something lurking deep inside him. This is the crucial point. I have never heard those words from anyone else. And as I look into the eyes, I also realize the purpose of the veil in front of the green. Do I also have one without even knowing it? It could be.

Xerxes snorts contemptuously before turning away and banging on the door in front of us. My fist lands on the wood three times and I wince each time. The dull banging alone is filled with aggressiveness. And again I feel so small while the door slowly opens. Let some light flow into the dark tunnel. I would love to just stand still. I don't want to know what's behind the masonry. It can't be good for me. And yet I give in to Xerxes' move. Yeah, I'm not even resisting it. But what good would it do? I'm in the middle of his castle. Surrounded by guards. There's no way out. No escape. As always, I have to submit. My own circle of life.

Torches are lit in the shallow hallway and Xerxes can just about stand upright. It's different with the man who opened the door for us. He stands there slightly bent and looks at me. Normally I would stand proud now. Straighten your shoulders and put the mask back on. But I can not. Xerxe's presence keeps me from doing that. And so I can only peer up at him. Xerxes is also eyeing me and even if he is not as tall as Zaret, he seems huge to me at this moment. His charisma is not like that of Zaret. Has nothing of a storm that rages. No, it's the calm and serenity that makes Xerxes incredibly dangerous. As always, he seems in control. The fire of anger blazes in his eyes and yet he doesn't seem to take an ill-considered action. It's almost paradoxical

"Where should I take you, Your Majesty?" While the stranger is talking, he leans forward slightly. Doesn't even look Xerxes in the eye. But I only half perceive all of this. My heart sinks a notch. I haven't thought about it "That Xerxes could throw me in the dungeon. That he'd lock me up and leave me there to die miserably. I immediately grab his hand and want to motion for him to look at me. God, please just look at me properly! And he does. Xerxe's gaze rests on me, but there's no recognition. No real seeing. More like a bored gaze. Then he shakes his head and turns to the jailer. "Nowhere. I want to take her to the Iron Maiden. She's gone." ."

It's taking everything away from me now. I heard about the iron maiden. Of the metal box meant to represent a woman's shell. From the torment caused by the nails lying on the inside. How they dig into the flesh and encircle you. Take any leeway. I immediately grab Xerxe's hand even tighter and can't help but whimper. I have to say something! Yell at him to be sensible. But I have no strength. Everything in me seems to contract. to steal my vote I'm too weak to fight back - far too weak to stand up for myself. The only thing that shows my feelings is a single tear. It runs hot down my cheek. Xerxes sees it and smiles slightly.

"I'll see a lot of those today." He wipes the salty drop from my cheek and briefly examines his moistened finger. Not a single emotion is reflected on his face. He simply doesn't care that my blackness is nourished by his actions . That he's just making sure that the ice inside me continues to spread. Bringing my blood to a standstill. He only cares about himself. And while I realize that the only person who could really understand me is also the only one , who doesn't care about me at all, I'm pushed down the hall, straight into a room, and for the first time, I see an iron maiden right in front of me, and now I know that the stories about this torture device are true.