Linda Leestemaker

“No, please. I’m begging…” Last words turn into a desperate scream, the desperate scream turns into a final breath.
It took him years before he realized that you can only realize what death looks like, when you have seen it in the eyes of others. And he had seen death too often, too often in the eyes of friends and enemies alike. In the eyes of conquered opponents, in the eyes of fallen comrades. For years, he was surrounded by desperate screams that resonated with dying breaths and by pleas for mercy, he knew all the words one could speak in the final moment.
It had confused him for a long time when those screams were replaced by the screams of playing children, by the sounds of flashing cameras. It had taken a long time before he found peace again, although he suspected that it would never fully return to him. At night, when it was quiet and the only thing surrounding him were the stars and loch, he could relax and organize his thoughts.
When he was staring into the darkness of the loch, or into the darkness of the universe, that was the time when he could think of his friends, think of what he had seen and heard over the years. He had been here for so long that he had forgotten his own name. His identity was completely connected to the castle, he even moved around like he was part of the structure.

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