Hugo Lang from Switzerland felt almost like a little kid. He was tingling all over with excitement. He had not felt anything this strongly since he saw the last girl on the screen.
The two of them together. The young woman in the basement and him. Two lonely people who had found one another. He had never felt such contentment. They were meant to be together. He had stroked her hair when she was asleep. He had smiled when she ran on the wheel – she was so good at it, making the food drop out of the dispenser – then suddenly she was gone, and his longing had been like a bottomless pit.
But now she was back. Not the same woman – well, almost the same – yet he liked her already, perhaps even more than her predecessor.
Hugo Lang smiled, and moved his chair closer to the big screen.
Miriam Munch.
That was a strange name, had been his first reaction, but then he felt bad because the name made no difference, she was his friend, held captive just for his sake, so that he could be with her. So that they could be together – together. The first day, she had got on his nerves because she had done nothing. She had just sat there. Fingers trembling at the end of her thin hands, hugging her pretty body. Eyes that hardly ever closed; confused, terrified eyes that did not understand where she was. And she had cried. Tears down her pretty, white cheeks. And then this desperate banging on the door or the windows, or whatever they were, and he had not liked it. He had been in his dressing gown, there was a log fire burning in the fireplace, he had a small glass of cognac – it was unnecessary, it really was: why could they not enjoy this moment together? But in the end she had come round, and now everything was fine.
Hugo Lang smiled and trailed his hand over her cheek on the screen. He had been fond of her predecessor. But already now, after only two days, he was starting to feel that he liked this one better. Funny, really.
She had been a bad girl on the first day.
She had not understood it. How things were done. But then he had come into the cage, and after that she had done what she was told.
Run on the wheel.
Eat the food that comes out of the hole.
Hugo Lang took another sip of his cognac, and moved his leather chair even closer. Placed his hand on the screen and stroked her hair gently before pressing his lips against the screen to kiss her.
Nothing naughty, or intrusive, no, no.
Just a little peck on the cheek.
He leaned back in his chair, raised his glass in a toast and smiled to himself.