Todos os capítulos de Hellblades: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Manolya’s POV The air grew colder as we stepped deeper into the chamber. At first I thought the shadows were only shadows. But then they moved. They had legs, arms, and faces so dark they almost swallowed light. Black Marids. Dark whirlwinds coiled at their feet, binding them to the stone floor, and their palms stretched outward, spilling smoke that writhed, bending at their will. I felt the hair rise on my arms. These weren’t ghouls. The ghouls had been only a warm-up. Aziz’s lip curled. “Marids,” he spat the word like a curse. “Be on your guards! This won’t be easy.” Their grins split wide, teeth glimmering sharp white against their endless black skin. My stomach dropped. Adem let out a nervous laugh, twirling his blade like he was showing off. “Doesn’t look so bad.” Adlee snapped back, his voice tight. “You’re shaking, idiot.” “I’m not—” “You are,” I cut him off, my own voice trembling. “Both of you, focus.” Uncle Eren’s shoulders squared, his hellblade glowing red i

Emre’s POV I don’t remember running down the last tunnel. My legs carried me, but it wasn’t me, just raw instinct. The cab ride, the sprint through the ruins, the sound of my blood hammering in my ears… all of it blurred into one endless rush. It wasn’t until I reached the chamber that I realized why it froze me as the world snapped into focus. Manolya was there. My little girl. Her hellblade glowed with a ferocious red gleam, her body trembling as she stood before the monster. A monster I knew all too well. And then I heard it. Laughter. A woman’s laughter. It was Bengü…Bahar… The realization alone shattered me. She stood in the middle of the cave, her tight red dress glowing in the flickering light, stiletto heels piercing into the dust like daggers. But her body shimmered, blonde hair showing through where the dye had burned away. Bahar. I knew it before she even opened her mouth. And when she did—it wasn’t for me. It was for my daughter. “You trusted me, didn’t

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 legs 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? İ

Emre’s POV The corridor smelled of bleach and disinfectant, sharp enough to sting my nose. White tiles gleamed under the fluorescent lights, polished so clean I could see my reflection in them—hollow eyes, sweat on my temples, a man who barely recognized himself anymore. Detective Kenan Karga had just walked past me, his broad back disappearing out from my daughter’s room, giving only a slight nod before dissapearing into the hall. My stomach twisted as if he were taking my last chance with him. I sat on the hard bench outside, elbows on my knees, my hands gripping my face. Would Manolya even want to see me? After everything I did? After all the lies, the betrayals, the sins I had stacked one on top of another until they crushed her? The weight pressed down until I could hardly breathe. “Brother.” The voice startled me. I looked up and saw Eren, my younger brother, standing in front of me. He still carried himself with that new strength, his frame leaner than mine and his e

Emre’s POV I gave a small, awkward wave toward Manolya’s window as I left the state hospital. Her pale face flickered past the blinds, then was gone. My chest tightened. I didn’t know if she’d smile this warmly next time I would see her. The automatic doors slid shut behind me with a hiss, spilling me into the cool evening air. I pulled my coat tighter, quickening my steps toward the black Mercedes parked under a flickering streetlamp. Every second I stayed outside was another second for the curious to catch a glimpse, another second for someone with a phone to snap a picture and upload it. The hospital car park buzzed with life — visitors talking in low tones, nurses on smoke breaks, the distant cry of a baby. I felt all their eyes on me even though no one looked directly. My fingers trembled as I unlocked the car. If word got out… if the wrong headline appeared… I could see it already: “Gallery Owner’s Daughter Arrested for Murder” splashed across the tabloids. My