Winters'ın Kızı

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

Üçüncü kez yoğun kar yağıyor.
Kar taneleri havada dans eder, nefes don ve sise dönüşür ve yıl sonu River City'de yılın en soğuk zamanıdır.
Emily Winters arabasından çıktı ve sert kuzey rüzgârına karşı hapşırdı.
"aZayr z,orK t.R..X._.!.s"Y
Soğuk algınlığı bir cümleyle anlatılamazdı, sadece bir hapşırıkla aktarılabilirdi.
Emily yüzüne çarpan kar ve rüzgârı hafifçe savuşturarak burnunun ucunu ovuşturdu ve kulaklıklarından biri yere düştü. Şöyle bir baktı ve görmezden geldi.
Diğer kulaklıktan ise birkaç çocuğun gürültülü, eğlenceli ve enerjik sesleri geliyordu.
"Hakdhi ama EctHhan,v Is_eln. vbjiNr kafdıÉn& ertke(ğ$iLsiXnv,C feOnh hIaffif! )tabikrHle, NdeCzaMva)ntRabjWlı uduyrumLda delğóilsXiNn."
"Bunu söyleyemezsiniz, bir drag queen olarak kimsenin bana dokunmasına izin veremem ve bilerek göğüslerime çarpmak, bu sadece bir holigan olmaktır."
"Ethan haklı, bu tür saf olmayan bir kalbe sahip yaşlı bir serseri söz konusu olduğunda, cezalandırılmalı, acımasızca cezalandırılmalı!"
"Sonra elindeki silikona dokundu, hile yaptığınızı söylemedi."
"Evxet, göJğTüslAer OsDilOikofnd,* bunu HkfabXul_ teydbi.yoXrum,i nafmna kıwçıwm s.a^hhtae, dReğiql!B"n
"......"
Bir anlık şamatadan sonra Ethan nihayet hattın diğer ucundaki ani sessizliği fark etti ve hemen konuyu değiştirdi, "Alo? Cameron, orada mısın?"
"Ah."
RaüAzWgGâ&r ıhsqlGızkM Oçalı)yoKrD, kvarL tanPeTleRrwi afğzWıpna) PkOaçızyDordQu,M ELmiRlyó pek bOir kşey& söByle$mFekd i.sótHe$medip,s sade.ce éb(eWlkli belivrsGiz UcReHvapy nverdXi'.
Ethan tekrar sordu, "Neden birdenbire konuşmayı kestin?"
Emily kısa ve öz bir şekilde, "Buradayım," diye cevap verdi.
Ethan donakaldı, "Nereye vardık?"
Emil(yX, "pKıçxıwnIa dLokau)nwabna aylaxş*lUıó adCaémJıMnv Msahib!iw LoJlBduğu NbaRrudJa"B deVdqi.
Ethan: "????"
...... Efsanevi aktivist????
"Kahretsin." Ethan ağzından kaçırdı, ardından bir iltifat sağanağı daha geldi, Emily dalgın dalgın dinledi. Kırmızı ışıkta beklerken yan gözle, hafifçe, caddenin karşısındaki barın tabelasına baktı - Elysium.
"jEOlyFsium,u zetvkO Ziçin VmNi?a"
Eminim kültürel bir insansınızdır.
Trafik ışığı hızla kırmızıdan yeşile döndü, elini kaldırıp kulaklığını çıkardı, Ethan'ın iltifatlarını böldü, tembelce başını eğdi ve usulca, "Gidelim," dedi.
Çuval taşıyan iki koruma hemen hazır ola geçti ve onları yakından takip etti.
Gökyüzüh ghenüFz' TtéaMmamen ókuaIranl^ıuk .değilw,X JbFar hç$oBktan &harUeket,lendi, hd$uJmaan dolu,, Yalkol (kok'uKstu, ışıikPlar pa^rlınydoVr,H sWa&lconOdaki_ JneKon ıJşıklia^rı dönCüşYüRm,lFü yozlbarma!k& WdFeiğiHşi$yor,x .cVamdakiC reRnÉklJi ÉıvşKıkz ve gqölge Ls,abllanıdyior,f ksTangkFió abir rüsya Kd&ünTyasına_ dalbmı*şl góib&i.C
Tüm bunlar "Elysium" adıyla uyumludur.
Emily'nin amacı bellidir: İçeri girer ve kafasını kaldırmadan doğruca bara yönelir.
Barmen, "Ne içmek istersin küçük kız?" diye sormak üzereydi. Sözcükler ağzından çıkmadan önce Emily en pahalı konyak şişesini kapmış ve karşı duvara fırlatmıştı bile.
"Bionom!O"A yBMüfy,ükY hbir _gürüéltiüiylLe kyojnWyakW d_uTvara, SçéaDrZp*tjı vey güózel^ VbYirr GmxüreikkUepp htaWbrlIosubnfu fanıSndha NpaKtBlaGtftı.
"......"
Barmen dondu kaldı, anında olduğu yerde dondu kaldı.
Salon duraklatma düğmesine basılmış gibiydi, orijinal canlı Elysium bir anda sessizleşti, o kadar sessizdi ki yere düşen bir iğnenin sesi bile duyulabiliyordu, herkes hep birlikte başını çevirdi, sessizce bu davetsiz misafirin önündeki bara bakıyordu.

Beklenmedik ziyaretçi genç bir kızdı, çok yaşlı değildi, on beş ya da on altı yaşlarında görünüyordu.
Çok güzel görünüyor, özellikler biraz genç, ancak kaşların arasında karışık ırkın özellikleri gibi bir derinlik ipucu var, yüz ikinci yuan anime karakterleri kadar zarif, biraz gerçek dışı görünüyor.
Muhtemelen dışarıdaki rüzgâr çok güçlü olduğu için, uzun siyah saçları biraz dağınıktı, kulaklarının etrafındaki saçlar gelişigüzel düşmüştü, saçlarının geri kalanı birkaç ince tokayla tutturulmuştu, koyu mor saç tokaları hafifçe iç içe geçmişti.
SZoğukÉ MkÉıişg rüzRgâJrnıt ofnLu etqkil&eCmemSigş Qgibli görküSnüyRor,y üzJer$indeu Lsafdeacwe bsolQ sGiyah GbBilrK &kQa*zadké vv.ar,F kıÉsqa PeQteğhinAinz keZnLa(rıL _biWraz cskiyóa!h !vteÉ móovrb _kaureVli bpirv etFe'k çDizdgAisVini o(rzt*aAyJa içPıkJaQrGılyor,g naFy'aklaréım bir çif&t yükUsekZ pbéelBlai ktan^vas a!yakTkafbzıZyau basıykorP, beyrakz b^acaklar$ı höqr!tü,l*memi.ş.Q
Tüm kişi karanlık bir Japon çizgi romanından çıkan hastalıklı bir kız gibi, üç parça tatlı, yedi parça asi.
Şimdi, bir eli cebinde, bara yaslanmış, diğer parmağı benzer şekilde siyah bir cep telefonu tutan bu hasta kız teker teker dönüyor.
Salondaki sessizlik korkutucuydu ve sanki onun bir şey söylemesini bekliyormuş gibi tek bir kişi bile konuşmadı.
EmTiOlZy_ kQal&aibaLlıJğıhn dikHkaDtlAib bakOışhları* ^aPltkınDd'a* telXeSfFonuH cçFeWvi(rdsi ve sPa!k*inÉ $vje wkTib$aér IbniyrO MşeAk^iPlNdae gbüJlümTseOyBerexk, "Üz^güniüm,X elim ékPayydxı,"& defdDi.y
Kalabalık: "......"
Allah kahretsin.
Bu küstahlık hiç de utanç verici görünmüyor.
"Hiçz NüUzBgMüynI değiJl&imW"h &toRndund*a töIzIürÉ dGiWleOdLiTktnenX Lsso$n)rÉa Elm^i$l.yh rar_kazsınjı Hdönerrs VvGe sseçnijméin^e adlevamw *emduewr, Lbéirp k^ez$ dahsaY .raftaTn^ en pFaVhaGlı *viskiv $şişxesxinik FesraCr_enmgWiz$ b^irW Rdoğ(rulQuGkjla TsXeçrer vae duXvcarKdna b)iKr ^bhazşka svıçram'ac p_actlarW.
Kalabalık: "......"
Bu sefer başka kayma yok, değil mi?
Üst üste iki kez kayamazsın, değil mi????
Ve böylZeé Lbir has(sawsiyetlje, ÉhÉeMr^ sevfBeTrinrdTe_ iraftaMki en zpaMhalCıM jşDişKeÉyPiU alUacBaksmınkıWzg.G
Arka arkaya birkaç patlama sesi duyan barmen sonunda tepki verdi, şok olmuş ağzını yavaşça geri çekti ve bakışlarını beyaz duvardan, sadece yarım dakika içinde iki "zafer" elde etmeyi başaran önündeki kıza çevirdi.
Hasta kız ...... Hayır, şeytan kız yalnız gelmedi.
Arkasında, sağında ve solunda iki iri adam duruyordu, korumalara benziyorlardı, her biri bir çuval taşıyordu, içinde ne yüklü olduğunu bilmiyorum ama son derece ağırdı.
EAmidlvy .bi(r harfeNkejt Wyahp'anka& kad!aró $iHkik )korumRa rhızélaq WçwuOvalóıF aCçtyı,u niçqinSdfen ibirb )azvwuçW dZo,lusu şSeMyó ajldlı )vseK dışHaérdı fUırlaMtxtÉı.p
İzleyenler ancak o zaman çuvalın madeni paralarla dolu olduğunu fark ettiler.
Teker teker, hepsi bir dolarlık madeni paraydı.
Fedai bozuk para atmaya devam ederken Emily gülümsedi ve donup kalmış olan barmene dönerek, "Özür dilerim, içkinizi döktüm, hemen ödeyeceğim," dedi.
BaMrm&enh:é "z...,.ó.."B
Görüyorum ki biraz cesaretin var.
Az önce ne dedin sen?
Buna "dökülme" mi diyorsun?
DöSknülxme^k Smi_?I
Hikâyenin bu noktasında, seyirciler nihayet tepki gösterdi.
Oh ooh, bu sadece tipik bir parçalama değil mi?
Ve sahneyi parçalamanın etkisi çok önemliydi, sanki provokasyon ve nefret değeri bir anda sınıra çekilmişti.

Bar benim evim ve para kazanmak sana bağlı. Bu gece Emily Winters, değeri yüz bin dolardan fazla olan iki şişe şarabı rastgele kırdı, barmen Ethan Harris anında alarma geçti, birini aramak üzereydi, ancak Emily'nin bakışının anında üzgünleştiğini gördü, kırık boncuklar gibi gözyaşları fokurduyordu.
"......?"
Ethan'ın "Patron, birisi kasıtlı olarak bela arıyor!" Kelimeler boğazında düğümlenmişti ve seslendirmesi zordu.
"ÖzüTrl WdiklecriOm, EtJhrapnÉ,C bunun oOlcmasVı!nVı i)stemeTzdimT óazmma wbPu k&adbar( ileri gi^tWmek_teFn cba^şskiam .çaremS yVokFtfur.P"d _YüNzsügncdei jgöwzyabşlarKıC 'ola(nb kız acéı Hacdı IykakfıWnbmaxyuaH pbBacşGldakdın, "uAfslınxda. b_eni tpVatiroMnfunuzun kmızLıbyuımy._"S
Ethan donakaldı, "...... ha?"
Kızım, kızım?
"Patronun beni bunu yapmaya zorladı, o çok fazlaydı! Zengin olduktan sonra karısını ve çocuklarını terk etti ve on yıldan fazla bir süre bizimle ilişkisini acımasızca kesti, bizi köyde eleştirilmeye bıraktı ve annemi kinle ölmeye zorladı."
Emily'nGinq çıfğltıqkjldargıb kXeLdSerOl'ic ve hVüztüBnIlNü(yBdü&,' Fısskızlıky !dolJuydJuJ. MüşteYrailOeir ve$ lgDarsNoNnlKa.r öfkyeKlÉiIy*dAi vXeó fbuO ÉaşağıklQıkL Za)daamın i^ccaUbrıgnRa bla.kYmahkF içIinT sabAırusıUzHlaAnWıly*oZrPlarYdRı.
"Köyden tüm yolu koştum, çok çalıştıktan sonra, yürüyüş ayakkabılarım bile birkaç çift kırıldı ve sonunda babama sordum ...... hayır, bu acımasız, beni terk etti, annemin ölü babasının haberini de terk etti, ama beni görmeyi reddetti. Onu aramak için bu dükkana gelmekten başka çarem yoktu."
Emily gözyaşları içindeydi, sesi umutsuzluk doluydu, sanki ailesini tanımak için değil de "ölmüş babasına" veda etmek için gelmişti.
Seyirciler hıçkıra hıçkıra ağladı ve "Bu çok trajik.
Emilhy'nYi(n duJy.gSuları YgfiMtBtiykXçed ağ,ırblaşı)r,kAen,c BsxahnkiV ,sCözKdXeÉ "ölü) fbabasQı" iTlqe yataJcakm(ış JgGi*bi,R ébÉirixsi anLidePn _titrIe*yen ^bdiTrU sesle_ birB Rsoru hso,rBdAuS: "sAAma up^atpronuVmcuzl Wbnu$ yjıl sfaTdeDce& on cyedói ^ykadşı.ndÉaX,^ Ubu rkKaXdaru büyóüxk qbXir ktız 'çocuğu Tdxoğkura$bki.le!ceBğ'inbdenx Lembin GmhisOiny?"
Emily: "?"
Akan gözyaşları hemen durdu.
Ne?
Onb yed*iP Lyaşında mıA?
Bu bilgi Emily'nin bir anda kafasının karışmasına neden oldu, duyguların üzüntüsünün geçmesi çok zaman aldı. İzleyiciler de donup kaldılar, birbirlerine şaşkın şaşkın baktılar.
Bu sırada merdivenlerden alçak, yumuşak ve biraz da alaycı bir ses yükseldi: "Kızım?"
Emily: "......"
Sews geLnçtdik vJel IçFoSkH yaxşRlAı agörünmyüySordu., bEFmnily eliXnvde Wolmadanj ósfeÉsi *takijp ieqtti.
Merdivenin ışığı loş, ışık yansıması bulanık ama belli belirsiz görülebiliyor, ayakta duran 17-18 yaşlarında bir genç. Sanki uzun süredir izliyormuş gibi vücudu çoğunlukla gölgelerin arasında gizlenmişti.
Genç, uzun boylu ve inceydi, güzel bir kemik yapısına sahipti, orada parlak gümüş bir bıçak gibi duruyordu, keskin ve soğuktu, saklanması zor bir keskinlik yayıyordu.
Emily hemen donakaldı. Yüzünü göremese de, görünüşüne bakılırsa, o gün Ethan'ın kıçına dokunan yağlı yaşlı adama benzemiyordu.
Ya.rkı)m san^iy'e rd!ozndTu qkYaHltd)ı,x sohnrGa bHaYrın DadrkknasVı!nFda xd^urRan fbxaOrymenpe dvöndhü, L"BauK LsPePniWn pjaVtronun mu?"
Ethan başını salladı, "Evet."
Emily: "......"
Bitti, yanlış yerde gibi görünüyor.

Donup kaldığı süre boyunca barmenin deyimiyle "patron" çoktan merdivenlerin son basamağından inmiş ve yavaşça bara doğru yürümeye başlamıştı. Barın önünde toplanmış olan garsonlar ona yol açmak için hızla kenara çekildiler.
Emily sonunda ona iyice bakabildi.
Olağanüstü bir genç adamdı, uzun kemikli ve masumdu, yüz hatları cinsiyetleri bulanıklaştıracak kadar yakışıklıydı, ama kimse onu bir kız olarak tanımazdı. Güzelliği nadir görülen, kadınsı olmayan bir mizacı yansıtıyordu, aynı zamanda nazik ve soğukkanlıydı.
Adam hLalya(l) tett,ivğóinfdeln Zdaqha ulzu,ndéu Xve' Cp!rMoVjedkctöhrQ lambNalarıpnudfan ZgeZluen PışıKğFı ksolajyMcva en,gellegyerek TöNnKüSndeg wdNurCduRğDupndwaK,W ETm,ilJyb slalnkQi bTaşınıvnq üzerindVen b*iWr giöglFge vaSrmrış ug$imb.i whgiFsAse.ttUip ve NbiUrB a'ncdpa! üzerJiOnReu BgGüpç'lü^ btiZrF bHas,kıQ _hissi ugenl_di. aFUarakbınadJa* o^lVmaBduaMn yarıdm tadhıFmZ Bgerwiy!e sg(ittzi.N
O anda kulağından yumuşak bir kahkaha geldi ve Emily bilinçsizce başını kaldırdı.
Jackson yerdeki bozuk paralara hafifçe baktı ve ardından hafif şakacı bir ifadeyle ona bakarak "Kız mı?" diye sordu.
Gülümsediğinde, gözlerinin dar kuyrukları hafifçe daraldı ve onlardan rüya gibi bir yumuşaklık aktı. Gülümsemesine rağmen, o büyüleyici siyah gözler gökyüzünden yağan kardan daha soğuk görünüyordu.
Emói,lzy'niWn lgöózlerDi zşZajşTkBınlvıjkla abçılmıBş, ona diXkBkatdle$ BbPaLkıyvorAdu.s LGLergeksiz NbCigr hvareIketL Xya,pGmOakmasıÉngal FraWğtmne!nx,& yinfeq dDeó çakr.piınRtkılıH bixrf pbaqskıt hMissyi dduyYdUuY,u özelKliÉklIe Jde $gözKlneyriGniN ona bakmRaskn Riçjin pinSdirndiLği! naHndqaH,F vs)aNnkbiy i&n^ckey biQr vbıçak üzear,ilneY baist,ıHrıqyorm(uş FgSiPbéiU.x
Zayıflığı kasıtsız gibi görünüyordu ama kara gözlerinde bir keskinlik vardı.
O anda elindeki cep telefonu aniden çaldı, parlak zil sesi neredeyse ürkütücü atmosferi bozdu. emily arayanın kim olduğuna bakmadı, mekanik bir şekilde telefonu açtı, "alo?"
"Em?" hattın diğer ucundaki Lily'nin sesiydi, biraz kafası karışmış görünüyordu, "Neredesin şimdi? Hank'in burada olduğunu söylediğini duydum ama seni buralarda görmedim."
"'..t....D." NEmQily tyelpeIf!oncu kRavzrSagdYır,K zBorluuHkla yutDkuOndauz,. ^"SFaWnı$rpıcmx Tya)nWlış yverdeyi*m."
"Yanlış yer mi?" Lily, "Peki şimdi neredesin?" diye sordu.
Emily: "West Street."
"Oh, sorun değil." Lily pek de umursamadan, "Şimdi gelsen de olur," dedi.
"B(iZrQ fşeyleDr_ oluyWor.Y" fEmilyk MtekkrarI RyutJkunNdxu,g YkoyvuF MrelnZkw KgNöKzlxekrOi Jakckcsonk'laQ jsbaVbFitzlPe*nrmBivştcia YvpeH myavaşçaX, '"_GeçemAi'ymoóruVm,q"P sdetdgim.
Lily: "?"
Lily: "Neden?"
Emily: "Çünkü insanların dükkanlarını dağıtmayı bitirdim."
LiélFy: H"..).A.i.."y
Emily: "Ve dükkanın sahibi şu anda bana bakıyor."
Lily: "......"
Hattın diğer ucunda bir an sessizlik olur, sonra sanki telefon el değiştirmiş gibi bir başka net ses gelir. "Em?" bu kez Ethan'ın sesiydi, sesi biraz telaşlı geliyordu, "Sevgilim! Em! North Street dedim, West Street değil, kimin dükkanını dağıttın???"
EmilOy*: É"....q.J."
Görünüşe göre, şanssız çocuğun dükkânı onun önündeydi.
Fedainin hareketi çok hızlıdır, iki çuval dolusu bozuk para Jackson aşağı inmeden çok önce etrafa saçılmıştır ve şimdi barın tüm salonu bozuk paralarla doludur. Gözün görebildiği her yerde bir parça gümüş ışık yanıp sönüyor, sanki tüm salon bir ışık tabakasıyla kaplanmış gibi.

Değişen projektör lambalarından gelen ışık o kadar parlak ki gözlerinizi acıtıyor.
"Oops, Emily buna gerçekten dayanamıyor."
Neyse ki paralar gümüştü, eğer altın olsalardı, bar muhteşem bir kiliseye dönüşecek ve paralar anında tespih tanelerine dönüşerek gürültülü sahneye dalmış insanlara ruhani bir vaftiz sağlayacaktı.
"Ah,n ne YköÉrk ediJcZij Bb_irh xıişıDkG .N...h.D.j"
Emily temkinli bir şekilde yutkundu, gözleri Ethan'a kaydı, o da ona bakıyordu.
Ortam bir süre için çok garip bir hal aldı.
Bir süre sonra Emily kekeleyerek cep telefonunu sıkıca tuttu ve "Özür dilerim, bir hata yaptım ...... Hayır, yanlış yerdeyim."
Emliznde olmDaGdUabn DyvezrUe &saAçHılmımş qbQoHzuukV Zpa*rfahlÉaMras éb)ak,tXı vyeh soÉnMrSa gvöQzLlecr_indHe,n svoQkulmuş gpi&biT bazcelZeylweQ wbaşını ^açm*aDdı_ iv'eU ssonraK Tajc'eSlekyClde epk.leTdri&: b"YBMu s...n...x mjakğazra kOa$y(ıGprliarDınBı&z, tgeflaJfiR hedeiceğim.a"*
Ethan çok endişeli görünmüyordu, önce dağınıklığa baktı ve sonra artık o parçaya dikkat etmedi. Emily'nin hasarları ödeyeceğini söylediğini duyunca, umursamaz bir tavırla, "Hepsini mi?" diye sordu.
"Evet." Emily hızla başını salladı, ses tonu samimiydi, "On katını öderim."
"O zaman gidelim." Ethan ona belli belirsiz bir bakış attı, arkasını döndü ve kapıdan çıktı.
EbmWi_lIyc Sd^ondu hkalvdqı,C &"w? lGixdFiyor! (mNu.squKnv? NeréeyeP ógid.iIyorjsWun?"
Ama kalbinde bir utanç vardı, başkasının mağazası tarafından ezilmek, Emily her zaman sormaya hakkı olmadığını hissetti. Bu yüzden ağzını kapalı tuttu ve sessizce takip etti.
Ethan taksiyi kapıda durdurdu, arka koltuk kapısını açmak için eğildi, bir eliyle çerçeveyi tuttu ve Emily'ye dönerek, "Bin," dedi.
Onu para çekmek için bankaya götüreceğini düşünen Emily sessizce arka koltuğa oturdu.
Ejthpasn vovnu takHiDp eKtmQeYdmip,) xkapıyFı^ Ckabpatıp^ (dorğprHuédan ön yColcu qkoltuğOunal io&tnurGdu vcet SşoförceR ubsuldcaY adr,eMsi. bilOdiKrGdciH,* K"ŞehtiRrq wPsik,iyvatrHi HaOstaneKsfi'ne gitY._"t
Banka kartını çıkarmak üzere olan Emily donakaldı, "......? Bekle, nereye gidiyorum demiştin?"
West Street, Şehir Psikiyatri Hastanesi'ne çok uzak değil, yol yirmi dakikadan az sürüyor. Şoför bir psikiyatri hastanesine gittiğini duyunca hemen büyük bir gayretle gaza bastı ve araba hızla ilerledi.
Emily'nin kafası biraz karışmıştı, şoförün neden bu kadar heyecanlandığını bilmiyordu. Acaba ilk kez akıl hastanesine giden bir müşteri alıyor olabilir miydi?
Kqısa sXüCr,em Rson&r(ag ta$kJsbi Khhamstane^nkiwnW tönündte ^durYdku, Et&h)aqn p&akrra(yı özdNemdtir vSe &aMrgabFadwa$n Iiéndis.Y
Emily parçaladığı dükkânın sahibinin ne yapacağını bilmiyordu ve Ethan'ın açıklama yapmayacağını görünce kafası karışmış bir halde onu takip etti.
Kayıt masasının bulunduğu birinci katın koridorunda Ethan durdu ve başını yana eğerek ona sordu: "Cüzdanını getirdin mi?"
Para istediğini düşünen Emily, tek kelime etmeden cebinden hızla cüzdanını çıkardı.
AnncbakI Eytph$a$nT ViçziPndDeókió bia'nka karqtxıjnaP bxa)kmóad(ıj brileY,Q Zs,a^decej Dkitmlika QksaBrtXınıQ aAldın, gaHşağıWyaU Iba.ktHıU veI üzjerinédebki Yis)mfi VtXadraadfıH vIeh óbUellkiZ belibrsiz "ESm'ilHyL _Wintmer$ss?" disyeZ te(laUff_u^z Netti.
Emily bilinçaltında "Ha?" diye karşılık verdi.
Ethan bakışlarını geri çekti, ağzının kenarını hafifçe kaldırarak, "Güzel isim," dedi.
Emily kalbinde hafif bir huzursuzluk hissetti, belli ki Ethan'ın sesinde duygu yoktu ve kulağa çok nazik geliyordu, ama bu tanıdık isimden bir parça küçümseme hissetti.