Semua Bab The Witch Doctor, Hellblades Series Part 1 of 3: Bab 71 - Bab 75

Manolya’s POVThe air in the tunnel grew colder with every step we took. My chest was already tight, but when we rounded the last corner and stepped into the chamber, I froze.The room was blazing with light, but it wasn’t fire or torches.The walls themselves gleamed. Floor to ceiling filled with mirrors. Thousands of them.Every step we took, our reflections followed us.Multiplied. Staring. Judging.My stomach lurched. On the rough stone floor beneath our feet, dark red carvings had been etched into a giant circle, its patterns twisting. The smell of iron hung in the air, thick and metallic.Then I saw them.Snakes.Dozens, slithering along the carved lines. Their scales were black streaked with glowing red, their tongues flicking as they hissed in unison.I shivered so violently my teeth knocked together.Of all things in the world, I hated snakes the most.Adem coughed into his hand, trying to mask his fear. “Not… too bad.”Adlee swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “Yeah, I’ve se

Manolya’s POVThe air grew heavier the deeper we ran, the tunnel bending like a throat swallowing us whole.My lungs burned, but Aziz didn’t slow, his body was always a step ahead, his presence pulling me forward.The door loomed out of the dark.Old wood, cracked, yet glowing with that same awful horn I had seen on the bench in the square and again on Ipek’s door. Red and gold light pulsed across it like a heartbeat, mocking me with every throb.I froze. “Aziz…”He didn’t hesitate.His beast strength exploded against the door, splintering it apart in a single blow.Dust rained down, stinging my eyes. His arm came around me instantly, shielding me as the shards flew.But nothing could shield me from what I saw inside.Ipek.Pelin.Floating.Their arms stretched out as though crucified on invisible beams.Oh Allah, Ipek’s pregnant belly—were exposed upward, her body utterly still. Pelin lay motionless beside her.Black smoke coiled around them like ropes, wrapping tighter, holding them

Mr. Mehmet’s POVThe air in the chamber was thick enough to choke on. Blood, sulphuric-smoke like poison — it clung to every surface, seeping into my beard and clothes. I staggered forward.Behind me, Emre half-carried the twins, Adem and Adlee, both pale and barely able to walk.Their bravado was gone, and now they looked like what they were: children.I waved them closer, snapping in my usual sharp tone. “Keep up, keep up! Limping won’t save anyone.”Adem groaned. “We’re trying, old man—”“Try harder,” I barked, though my chest was burning with fear. Not for myself. For the girls.I hurried toward the bodies that lay crumpled near the shattered altar — Ipek and Pelin. Still. Lifeless. Their faces gray as stone.“No, no, no…” Emre’s voice cracked as he stumbled after me. “Not them too!”“Quiet!” I snapped, raising a trembling hand.My eyes darted from one girl to the other, scanning, searching.Their chests did not rise.Their pulses were faint, unnaturally rapid and shallow.I swall