The underground parking lot of the channel building was filled with the buzzing sound of fluorescent lights and a heavy smell of exhaust. Defne was walking toward her red car, the rhythmic sound of her heels echoing on the concrete. As she pulled her keys from her purse, she didn't even notice the neon vest silently slipping out from the shadow of the thick concrete pillar behind her.
Yekta had reduced the distance between himself and his prey to three steps. His breathing was calm. He had suppressed the ache of the stitches on his neck with the sick adrenaline pumping into his brain. He slowly drew the crescent-tipped pruning knife from its sheath. Defne's flawless, swan-like neck was right in front of him. He raised the knife and tensed his muscles to carve that aesthetic, ritualistic, and perfect curve into that smooth skin.
At that exact second, a piercing screech of brakes erupted from the entrance ramp of the parking lot.
A black, unmarked police car sped down the ramp, sliding its tires, and stopped diagonally just twenty meters away from Defne's car.
The car door swung open as if it had been kicked. Detective Aylin burst out, a flashing police badge in her hand and pure fury on her face.
"Defne Arslan!" Aylin shouted. Her voice echoed off the cold concrete walls of the parking lot like a gunshot. "Homicide Bureau! Whoever leaked that file to you from inside the department, you're going to give me their name right now!"
Defne startled and turned around.
For Yekta, time froze in that moment. His ritual, that sacred silence, the aesthetic brushstroke... it had all been shattered by Aylin's crude yelling. Yekta was left standing in the shadows, his knife raised in the air. The headlights of Aylin's car barely missed the pillar Yekta was behind, trapping him in pitch darkness.
The plan was ruined. He needed to pull back.
But Yekta’s arrogance crushed his logic. This woman was no longer just a victim; she was an answer to Aylin's pride. Besides, a predator never abandons his prey halfway.
As Defne watched Aylin walking angrily towards her, saying in confusion, "What are you talking about, Detective?", Yekta lunged forward from the darkness like a wild animal.
There was no aesthetics. There was no flawless surgical curve. There was only pure, crude, and primal brutality.
Yekta caught Defne's throat from behind with his left arm like a vise, and in a panic, rapidly slashed the knife in his right hand across the woman's neck. The knife severed her jugular, but it wasn't that smooth half-moon shape; it was a jagged, torn, and brutal cut that sprayed blood everywhere.
Defne's scream turned into a muffled gurgle in her throat. Blood instantly erupted like a waterfall, splashing onto Yekta's face, his arms, and Defne's stylish black trench coat.
From twenty meters away, illuminated by the headlights, Aylin saw that horrifying moment. A dark shadow (the neon vest looked merely like a black mass in the dark) had grabbed Defne from behind and shredded her neck.
"Police! Drop your weapon!" roared Aylin, drawing her service pistol from her belt in a fraction of a second and taking aim.
But Yekta wasn't done yet. The third trophy...
With his blood-soaked hands, he reached for Defne's ear. He didn't have time to remove the pearl earring gently. He yanked the earring, savagely tearing the woman's earlobe. With that tiny pearl and warm blood filling his palm, he threw the woman's lifeless body to the ground.
Aylin fired. The bullet shattered the concrete pillar just a few inches from Yekta's head. Concrete fragments rained down on Yekta's cap.
Yekta leaped silently like a cat deeper into the parking lot, towards the pitch-black area where the ventilation shafts were located behind the vehicles.
Aylin sprinted to the scene, gripping her gun with both hands. Her eyes searched for the killer in the dark, but when she saw Defne trembling on the ground in a pool of blood, blood pouring from her jugular, she had to stop. She lowered her weapon, dropped to her knees, and desperately began applying pressure to the woman's neck with her hands.
"Hold on... Hold on, I'm calling an ambulance!" Aylin shouted. She had turned deathly pale. She reached for her radio and pressed the button. "Dispatch! I'm in the closed parking lot of the channel building, urgent ambulance! Officer involved, suspect is armed and fleeing on foot! Block all exits of the parking lot!"
Just five meters away... In the dark void behind one of the parking lot's massive ventilation fans, Yekta stood with his back against the wall.
His chest heaved rapidly. He was out of breath. His face, hands, and vest were soaked in Defne's blood. Yet his eyes, peering through the grates, were locked on Detective Aylin just across from him, desperately trying to save Defne on her knees.
Yekta looked at the bloody pearl earring he was gripping tightly in his hand. This was no flawless painting. He couldn't apply the paste, the cut was hideous, and he had to leave his prey in a pool of blood. But on the other hand... while his greatest enemy struggled helplessly with an agonizing orchid just a few steps away, he was watching her like an invisible ghost.
The Izmir police were about to lock down the parking lot exits. Cameras were everywhere. It was impossible for Yekta to step out of that building onto the street. He was trapped in the parking lot. But that sick, bloody smile reappeared on his lips. He was the man who knew this city's infrastructure, the parking lot drainage covers, and the sewer tunnels even better than the Chief of Police.
As ambulance sirens began to echo from Aylin's radio, Yekta took the lockpick out of his pocket and slowly reached for the lock of the massive wastewater drainage cover behind him. The dark waters were waiting to take him home.38Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpvfTUDnBIg
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