The Secret Moonbird, Hellblades Series Part 2 of 3

Manolya’s POV

I sat on the cold stone floor of the underground city of Kapadokya, my mind was a blur.

The sirens echoed off the walls. I couldn’t feel the chill. I couldn’t feel anything.

Where had my soul gone?

Two policemen approached. One of them crouched in front of me, speaking in a low voice. “Miss, can you hear me? Stand up.”

I stared at him without blinking. Their hands gripped my arms, pulling me upright.

The cold cuffs snapped behind my back. The pain in my wrists was nothing compared to the emptiness in my chest.

My clothes were soaked in blood. I barely registered the lifeless body beneath me.

I wanted to retch. My stomach refused to move. My father’s voice echoed somewhere in the distance, desperate, but the words didn’t make sense.

“Get her out of here,” one officer ordered.

My knees buckled. The metallic scent of blood filled my throat, choking me.

Behind me, someone zipped up the black body bag.

Was the witch doctor really dead?

Was Pelin still alive? İpek?

The questions circled endlessly.

Where is Mr. Mehmet?

When did he disappear?

Aziz is gone. That thought sliced through me. Pelin, İpek… Have I failed you?

A suffocating wave of guilt pressed on my chest. I was supposed to protect everyone. How am I still breathing while they’re slipping through my fingers?

The smell of damp earth and stale air from the caves crawled into my senses, dragging me in to a reality I didn’t want to face. My legs gave way and the officers caught me before I hit the ground.

Later I found myself sprawled out on a hospital bed, wrists cuffed to metal rails, an IV dripping into my vein.

Sweat slicked my pale face. My breathing hitched, uneven and frantic.

In my head Pelin and İpek floated lifelessly, their eyes empty.

The witch doctor’s laughter echoed, sharp and cruel, as she drained the life from them.

With a sickening thud their bodies hit the ground.

Snakes hissed.

A ghoul with parchment-like skin reached for my throat.

It squeezed. I thrashed, desperate to wake up. The nightmare refused to let go.

“Allah…” I gasped the word as my eyes snapped open.

Disoriented, I blinked rapidly. A harsh white light glared down. The room smelled of disinfectant. A blue curtain hung limply to my left. A sink and mirror waited on the opposite wall.

I tried to sit up and chains rattled. My chest tightened with confusion and dread.

Why am I tied up?

Two figures in navy blue uniforms stood at the foot of my bed, badges gleaming under the fluorescent light.

My gaze locked onto the star surrounded by a laurel wreath. Policemen.

“Stay still,” one of them said firmly. His tone left no room for argument.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. A doctor and nurses rushed in.

Fear coursed through me as the situation sank in. Sirens wailed outside, their cries clawing at me.

The flashing lights through the window painted the room in shifting shadows.

I trembled uncontrollably.

I looked down at my clothes. They weren’t mine.

The unfamiliar fabric clung to my skin. My thoughts scattered.

What happened?

What did I do wrong?

I stopped struggling as the policemen pinned me to the bed. One of the nurses stepped forward with a syringe.

“No—wait,” my voice cracked, but the sedative was already sliding into my vein. A wave of numbness swept over me. My muscles went slack.

Fragments of the underground city crashed over me. Blood. Screams. Shadows.

“She’s in shock,” one officer muttered.

“Blood pressure is low,” the nurse said, tightening the cuff on my arm. Her fingers brushed my clammy skin. My breaths came fast and shallow.

The doctor leaned over me. “Elevate her legs,” he ordered. The nurses worked in sync, moving me flat, pressing on an open wound, placing a mask over my face. Oxygen hissed into my lungs.

Akyaka, normally s peaceful place, was buzzing with rumors. Whispers of the Günahgözcü, the sinwatcher floated through the town.

People were saying my name with the legend.

Had I drawn its wrath?

I could feel the town closing in around me even from this bed.

The kidnapping case, the murder, the Günahgözcü.

My name tangled in darkness.

The room felt smaller. The air thicker.

Why was I here? Why was I the one left breathing?

The questions burned, but the answers remained out of reach, buried somewhere in the blood-soaked shadows of Kapadokya’s underground city Derinkuyu.

And in that moment, I understood.

I was trapped inside a nightmare with no way out and I had a hard time grasping why I was in this situation.