Hello, friends, here another translated chapter from "The Labyrinth". I know I have some readers who read only the translated version, so I ask, please, to leave a review for me, so I know what they are also finding the translated version. I apologize for possible errors, but I have done the translation with google translator's help and something can go wrong. I hope the story continues understandable. Thank you all who are following my fic and inform you that I am already working on the next chapter in Portuguese, but I'm running because I will move to another city. A big hug to everyone and do not forget to leave me a review.

I get out of the tub, wipe me with the towel and walk toward the bedroom closet. I open the door and, with horror, I see I have at my disposal a complete wardrobe with clothes for almost all occasions. And what makes me amazed is that it all seem to have been tailored to me, as if I had try it each piece of clothing.

- Really, there is no doubt: he wants my stay here is long. - I think out loud.

And worst of all, there is nothing I can look ugly in this closet. All clothes have good cut, are elegant, with various colours, some discreet, others less so, like a beautiful red dress with a very generous neckline, which I found by chance. But as I have no intention to please him, I begin to rummage in drawers, to see if I can find the ugly hospital gown, which was what I was wearing when I was kidnapped. I don´t want to use anything chosen by him. After much searching, I don´t find my hospital nightgown and, disappointed, choose a lavender-colored dress, a simple model, but very beautiful. The bastard seems to know my taste more than myself.

However, I don´t tidy me. I even use the hair dryer that I see in the bathroom... I only arrange my hair with a wooden comb and leave it all wet. I don´t put makeup too, I want him to see the terrible prostration stamped on my face, I want him to see me as always saw me in the camp, without vanity traits, unwilling to show me or value my beauty. Who knows what little humanity that lives inside this monster can be awakened and he realizes the extent of his madness. Who knows he understand what needs to let me go.

When I finish dressing me, I´ll put the hanger back in the closet, but suddenly, an idea occurs to me. I try to use one of the hangers as a weapon, after all, they are made of wire and wire pierces! Why didn´t I think of that before? The hanger is timber and completely lined with foam and fabric, is very soft to the touch. But still has the tip of wire and despite being wrapped in satin, I think I can drop this ribbon and do some damage with it... After I remove the tape, twist the tip up, hoping to pull all the wire out of the hanger, but I cannot, it is very hard. The way will be using it with the tip up and pray to reach its target. I just need to leave the tip less rounded and more rough, to really hurt.

While I'm still trying to let the tip of the rougher hanger, I hear footsteps approaching the door. I put it quickly in a drawer, because I think unwise to attack him now. As much as I want to get out of here immediately, I need to find a better time to try anything against him, at least I need to eat, because I don´t want to stay with empty stomach as I am now. After all, as my father would say, "empty bag cannot stand upright." I'm hungry and will do as the Kommandant himself said, I´ll not deny me to eat, I have to be strong if I want to get out of here. Play the suffering and makes hunger strike really won´t help me at all.

The key turns in the lock and I see him enter, all elegant in his well-cut suit and in all his good manner. He looks at me and give a smile, I think he liked the dress I choose because he seems to be happy.

- Lena, dinner will be served, come with me!

I put a pair of shoes on my feet, and walk toward him. I lift my arms forward and let outstretched, waiting for him to tie me, because I imagine he'll want to make sure I don´t go away. Then, he looks at me surprised and asks:

- What is this?

- You won´t tie me?

- Tie you? - He gives a sarcastic laugh. - For what? I don´t intend give food in your mouth, by the way, I think you're already quite old for this...

Confused, I answer:

- I thought you wanted to make sure I wouldn´t run away.

- It won´t be necessary. My house is sufficiently protected. You can go where you want around here that cannot leave. And this is independent of whether or not with your hands tied... But if you want, I can tie your hands right now, many people have this kind of fantasy. You are one of them, Helen?

Embarrassed by the comment he just made, under my hands and avert my eyes from his, which at this point are again full of sarcasm. He chuckles and give a light tap on my shoulder.

- Come on, don´t be so embarrassed! It was just a joke.

He keeps his hand on my shoulder, as if indicating that we should leave the room. I don´t answer to his provocation, but instinctively my body begins to tremble at his touch, like old times. It's something that I can hardly contain, the memories I have of his violent behaviour in the concentration camp are still very present. He pretends not to notice my fear and continues to walk behind me, like a gentleman who had let me go ahead. I realize that he is also a little nervous, because he tries to maintain a casual conversation with me at all costs. As if we were two friends and not a prisoner and his tormentor. It's amazing how much he has changed in relation to his ways, but most disturbing is even know that it is the same person, if I may call this type of killer as a "person."

We walked down a long corridor full of interesting paintings and fine upholstery on hardwood floors. The hall is filled with doors and while we walking it I realize how much this house should be large. He really decorated tastefully. The bastard must have diverted a lot of money to keep all this luxury. I don´t pay attention to what he says, should be something related to the pieces of art that adorn the hall. I'll directing me to the stairs thinking how I do to get out of here. The house itself seems to be so great that I can lose myself in it. We walked down the long marble staircase and we headed to a small, but very cozy dining room. So, again I pay attention to what he says.

- We won´t use the big hall. I don´t want our first dinner looks like a reception for many guests. I want it to be something very intimate.

I still no answer. I sit in the place indicated by him, hope he pull out the chair for me and let the bastard do the honours. I don´t want to create problems before eating. I'm really hungry. He sits on the opposite side of the table and the maid, the same one that entered my luxurious jail when I touched that bell, starts to serve us. The smell is delicious and I feel so hungry that as soon as she finishes serving the meal, I picked up the silverware and start quickly to cut the meat. I will doing everything in such a hurry that not realize he's watching me. When I put a huge piece of meat in my mouth finally I look at him, standing with a half smile on his face, like he was happy to see me, take pleasure in eating. After all, I'm taking pleasure in something that was provided by him. I swallow the piece of meat completely embarrassed by this look. He seems to notice and comment.

- Oh, please continue. I know you're hungry! Frau Künzel´s baked are really fantastic. Don´t be shy, just don´t eat too fast, because you could end up sick.

And since when this idiot cares about me? I get so irritated with this comment that I will stop eating. But as I'm really hungry, I won´t drop the meal at all. I need to be strong. We continue to eat for a long time in silence and I watch him in your table manners. Definitely don´t look at all like the Kommandant ways I knew. He always ate all of a coarser way and faster than I see now, as if he were things always in a hurry. So looking at him now, I could say this is a member of Austria´s aristocracy or something, because he has an elegance way that embarrasses me even more, because I rushed too much and put a huge piece of meat in my mouth . I felt diminished on these superb new modes of this monster. In fact, his manner now remind me someone who helped me, Herr Direktor, Oskar Schindler. It seems Herr Kommandant was inspired by his old friend to play the gentleman.

After a long silence, when we are waiting for dessert, I decided to ask something was bothering me ever since I became aware I am here against my will.

- It was you who changed my hospital gown for another I was wearing when I woke up here?

- This is your subtle way of saying I saw you naked while you were unconscious?

Again I am embarrassed by his comment. I feel my cheeks burn with shame, as I was again that shy and scared little girl who lived sneaking to not be noticed in Plaszow.

- I just want to know if it was you who changed my clothes... - I repeat, trying to keep haughtiness.

- No, my dear. As much as I want to see you naked, I wouldn´t do that, unless you were awake, precisely because I want you in my arms being in your right mind. It wouldn´t be polite on my part I take advantage of your unconsciousness to get the things I want. I told you before: you´ll come back here of your own free will. You stay with me because you want to, not because you were forced into it. Calm down, Frau Künzel dressed you.

What I just heard makes me lose my temper again.

- What you say is totally inconsistent. I am here rather by the use of force. I am here because I was sedated against my will. So, you can leave this false chivalry aside, because I know you very well. I'm not here because I want to and I won´t stay here for anything in the world. Please, understand this!

- You say this now. Let's see if you think going forward.

- What do you mean by that?

- What you want to understand, I leave to your own conscience, after all, the imagination can be better than the reality, isn´t it? oh, the dessert arrived. You won´t regret, Frau Künzel´s apfelstrudel is able to arouse the wildest desires. Prove you´ll like.

The way he can get rid of what I say is really amazing. It's like trying to catch a soapy fish with his bare hands. I look at the old housekeeper, looking for any sign of sympathy, but she only serves pie, look to the younger maid, making a sign for her to come out and then she leave us alone again. It's strange, but this lady reminds me of someone... The younger is totally strange to me, but that lady is as if I had seen her somewhere, like someone familiar to me... I'm not sure, for I am not good physiognomist.

I decide to go back to being naughty with him.

- Look here. I'm not willing to work, you hear? I'm just eating because I was hungry and really have no intention in dying of hunger. But make sure that while I´m stuck here, I´ll make you regret having done so, because I won´t collaborate, and won´t be pleasant to you.

- Do as you wish. I've been impatient before, but the self exile, leaks, prison, all these things made me improved the virtue of patience.

- You can be everything, except patient. I remember very well that you threw things at me every alleged mistake I committed. You even throw a knife on me, remember that? - And at the height of my irritation, I get up from the chair and lift a good chunk of my skirt, showing him a small scar that take tendon, because that day.

Then he gets up quickly, takes a little prescription glasses from his pocket shirt and looks at my scar and my indignant posture, to show the mark of the old wound for him, as a child to an adult show where I was hurt. I suddenly feel the index finger of his right hand brush very lightly my scar.

- Forgive me, but in this case I must act as Thomas, only believe if I can touch. My dear, the scars are important to help us not to forget. - He removes his hand from my scar and said, coldly while saving again the glasses in his pocket. Then, suddenly, he changes the tone, leaving his voice a little warmer.

- Did I left scars in other places as interesting as his thigh, Lena?

Upon hearing that mocking and lascivious tone, I pull my skirt down, embarrassed again for showing good part of my leg to this disgusting cretin. I was naive now! Because of this, I decided to strike him again.

- No! But you made me lose a part of the hearing in my left ear.

Suddenly her expression changes completely. He really seems shocked to hear this.

- It is true, Helen?

Glad to see that finally got a more genuine reaction from him, still my complain.

- Yes. It happened in one of your many nights of drinking, I think it was once you came to punish me for having worn a dress of your German girlfriend. You hit me really hard in the head and did it twice more in consecutive days. The next day, and the other after hitting me, I listened to a persistent buzz, until one day I realized it was as if my ear had been permanently blocked, as the sounds became more muffled.

Without realizing it, to finish telling this to him, I find myself in a choked voice and I cannot help the tears. I hate feeling sorry for myself, but have things I still have a hard time dealing, much the same. This time, who seems embarrassed is him, because I saw him lowers his eyes and speaks in a more natural tone, less stressed, without sarcasm, pretense, cynicism or lust. I don´t think I remember hearing him talk like that before, maybe just for a brief moment that time in the basement before hitting me.

- I didn´t know that. Why didn´t you tell me when it's still buzz heard?

- Would do any good?

- Yes, I would take you to my doctor, that buzz phase is always possible to do something and...

I cannot stand that his sudden good will for me and cut him off abruptly.

- I could not even look at you without full quiver and suddenly I should be able to go complain to my tormentor that my ear was buzzing after a beating? Do you really think what you're telling me is really to be taken into consideration?

Looking stunned, he continues.

- I'm sorry, Helen. Deeply.

And, realizing that his little weakness, I grow on me a desperate urge to tell him my suffering, my woes, my horror about what he did to me. I do not know why I am doing so, but I think I want him to feel compassion. I want him to feel something doesn´t relate necessarily to their own will or desire he says feel for me, but something closer to empathy for those around him. I want him to stop thinking the world is its own belly button, I want him sympathize with my suffering. In fact, I don´t know right I want him to know my most intimate pains. Even more him, who was responsible for inflicting so much suffering, so much fear, so much horror in my life... Who knows well he understands there is no chance for me to do what he wants. There is no possibility for me falling in love with someone whose goal in life was to cause my physical and emotional pain. I continue to confide in him, compulsively. Still acting like a little girl who seeks emotional comfort of an adult and no longer restrain my outburst. After all, it was years and years with this feeling stuck in my throat and I had this terrible need to talk. What I didn´t expect is my years of silence would be just broken up with someone I don´t trust and cannot stand, just my tormentor! It was time to release this feeling dammed and hit him in some way. I wanted him to know everything I felt. I wanted him to suffer as much as I suffered!

Don´t regret. You always liked to hurt me. To make me bleed, cursing me of horrible things, leaving me with brands, pull my hair, kicking and throw me on the floor in front of other people, like I was a mangy dog or worse. And then you have the nerve to tell me you like me? Honestly, if this is your way to love, I don´t want to think about how you can hate someone!

He looks at me amazed, I think he was surprised by things I have just said, but, please, I'm not lying. I know what I passed under his yoke, I know what I was forced to endure, I know how much it still hurts me to remember all these things... More than anyone, I know what it´s to what I went through and stay as quiet all this time, I didn´t tell even half of what I just said to him to Sam, and he is my husband. I don´t know why I could never talk to anyone about these things and choose exactly who hurt me so much to vent. I am also surprised with my paradox, this behaviour such unnatural that I'm demonstrating. With this estrangement from myself.

- I think it's time to return to your room. - He says, with a very low voice.

- That's not my room. And I think it's time you set me free! If there is something good inside you and can be minimally humane, please hear what I ask. If you open the door for me to go, I promise to play the role of disturbed to my husband and the other, even if it costs me another psychiatric hospitalization. But at least I return with my own, for my family... Look, I'll leave you alone, you can continue to carry that your new life... Listen to your conscience and you will see that...

- Halt den Mund, du Schlampe jüdisch. - He stops me abruptly and gives me a very strong slap in the face.

I fall on the floor, my hair covering my face. I immediately stop crying, I support my right hand on the floor and stand up. I adjust my hair and look at him. Without saying anything, I try to he know it by my look I know who he is, nothing he can do will conceal his true nature, his true clumsy character. Here it is. The old Kommandant couldn´t stand the truth of what I said and returned to the surface, full of prejudice and violence, his true self submerged amid the fine clothes and the calculated elegance. Maybe that's the reason why I took the time to tell a little of my pain to him. The fact cursing me Jewish bitch in German (we were talking in Polish to that point) and slap me doesn´t bother me, because now I am sure he is really the sociopathic Nazi for whom I was a slave. He is so arrogant and proud that cannot hear the truth! I am appalled by his outburst of rudeness and violence and I shut up because I intend to keep my face no new scars. But demonstrate with my eyes all I'm feeling at that moment and he seems to realize as he have difficulties to face me after what he did. He must have been angry with himself for not being able to control himself, but even so he was bragging to do. But I'm proud to finally have said some things that were more than 10 years stuck in my throat. I am no longer a silent and suffering girl and he needs to know that.

Then his eyes quickly pass the red rage for mild and cold blue tone, as if indicate he is calmer now. He calls the younger maid. Using a calm voice again, tells her to take me to my "room".

- Follow Helen to her room, Fräulein Künzel, please.

- Yes, Mr. Prauchner. - The girl responds and turns to me.

- Could you come with me, Frau Horowitz?

Fräulein Künzel... So the girl can be the housekeeper's daughter, whose face seemed so familiar. I cast a look full of hatred for "Herr Prauchner" and accompany the maid for my arrest. This whole conversation and the fact of having eaten too much at dinner makes me a little queasy. The girl accompanies me to the door and closes it then passing the key, without even giving me the chance of a conversation. In fact, everyone here is hugely committed to fulfilling his orders to the letter. Who are these people who see this absurd and remains silent? I cannot understand it!

I feel frustrated. He doesn´t look willing to understand me. But what makes me most intrigued is, however much I try, I also cannot understand how he can say love me for all these years. As someone who hits, humiliates and enslaves another person, who doesn´t even consider me "one person in the strict sense", as he once told me, by the way. As someone who does what he did can say he loves someone he considers inferior? This is nothing common, this is crazy, this is worthy of much disgust or pity...

Someone like him is it can´t be considered a human being, that's what the truth is. Because there is no humanity in it. Only hatred, racial prejudice, grudge, pride, desire and all the other bad feelings he carries within him. How does he feel about me can´t be love. It's possession, as if I were part of your home decor. It can only be that, because love, love itself is what Sam feels for me. He really loves me, indeed. He heard the little I spoke of my pain, tried to understand me, even when he couldn´t, he tried...

- Oh, Sam, you should be so distressed... My dear, I wish you to know where I am! Will I see you again?

I think of what he was doing at that moment and it occurs to me that probably it is the piano in the hotel in Vienna. Whenever you are sad or restless or even angry, he goes to the piano and plays. Always leaves a divine melody, no matter your mood. Sam puts the soul in your fingertips and plays...

I think of what he was doing at that moment and it occurs to me that probably he goes to the piano in the hotel in Vienna. Whenever he are sad or restless or even angry, he goes to the piano and play. Always leaves a divine melody, no matter your mood. Sam puts the soul in your fingertips and play...

Suddenly, I find myself in our house, in the room where we keep the piano. It is as if I could see him at that moment, sad, playing with his head down... In my reverie I even think he plays "Clair de Lune" by Debussy, one of my favourite tracks and he plays so well, so good...

With tears in my eyes, I approach one of the cell windows, pull away the curtain, but the view of the venetian and the closed glass doesn´t show me anything the night out there and my heart even more press. I return to my dream and I see Anna, my sister, next to the piano. She should be here by now, as the monster talked before. She must be desperate for news. Leo and Beth too. I'm sure Beth bought the story that I'm crazy and ran the asylum, because she was the only one to accompany me in my last days before disappearing and I really wasn´t myself. I can see them now, all gathered in the living room of my home in New York, trying to understand the incomprehensible, trying to understand why I would have chosen to escape... Even though they are in Vienna, somewhere not too far away from me, I imagine them in my home in New York, meeting.

Piano Chords are becoming even more poignant as I see them there without me. Let the tears down and crying, actually crying, sobbing cry.

- This monster has a disturbing power over me I cannot explain. It's stronger than me. But he won´t destroy me, I won´t, I cannot allow. For Anna, for Sam, for me...

The sickness is stronger and I do my best not to put all out because I cannot be weak. I can´t give myself. I'm going to the closet, open the drawer and took out the twisted hanger. I am beginning to scratch its tip in a corner of solid wood bedroom floor, so it is with the rougher edge. I try to do this without causing a lot of noise because I don´t want to go back to see him today, not after everything that happened.

- I have to wait for the right time to act...

Then, I think have the edge over "piercing", I take the hanger with me and leave under one of the pillows. I sigh deeply and close my eyes. "Clair de Lune" is almost over... Sam plays beautifully, with his eyes closed as I am now to dream and realize the tear he insists on keeping attached to his eyelash. Anna not take it anymore and puts her right hand on Sam's shoulder, which continues to play, his black eyes are closed, his hair is slightly damp with sweat, and his forehead. The mouth is dense, as if the softness of the melody he touches didn´t correspond to the will he have to shout. Beth cries quietly and Leo blows his nose into a handkerchief. Sammy ends gently playing, fingers withdraw from piano keys, he gets up, looks at Anna with grateful eyes and heavily walk up to our room. I see him lie on their side of the bed, trying to avoid look to my empty side of the bed... I see him cry bitter tears of anger and anguish for not realizing my true emotional state in those days... These same bitter tears I also drop.

- Damned Herr Kommandant! I swear I'll blow you away!