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THE PERIOD OF SULTAN ABDULHAMIT II

WITCH

Just like that.

Poor bride was strangled to death
in the mansion she just moved.

I don't believe it.

Do not frighten me,
for God's sake.

Believe as you wish.

If there weren't a truth to it,

it would not have spread
from Topkapı to Yıldız,

and it would not have
heard by so many ears.

Do you believe such hearsay?

They say that while the corpse
still lay on the floor,

they passed a cat over the body,
or something of the sort...

The poor lady...

turned into a witch.

May God have mercy on her soul.

Why did they relinquish
this orphan, then?

Dear, one would better
not be one of these two...

A defenceless child,
or a woman.

God created woman
to be a man's wife,

and man to marry a woman.

Your husband has passed away.

It is God's will.

That wicked
aunt-in-law of hers

sent the poor woman away to that
cursed mansion, like a mere ragdoll.

Those rumours, old hag tales...

Cast them all aside.

You have your uncle's blessing.

We've almost arrived.

A woman of your age
ought to be wedded to a man.

Otherwise, you'd
be the talk of the town.

They would label you as loose,

tarnish your purity
with their gossip.

We were, of course, going to
marry you off to a suitable bachelor.

We could not
allow you to rot away.

Get to know the Lady
of your household.

From this day forth,
Miss Fikriye is what I am to you.

I advise you to display due care.

Be of assistance to her,

as she acquaints herself with her
new residence and role as mistress.

Your compliance
is of particular importance.

Nesip and Ragibe are not
on their best behaviour today.

You will meet them tomorrow,
God willing.

Butler İrfan...

Show the lady to her room.

Right away, my lord.

There are many rooms
in this mansion, my lady.

Most of them lie empty, unused.

While others are cluttered
with all manner of junk.

Most of them are locked.
Follow me, please.

This is the harem of your lord.

Butler İrfan.

Please elucidate

the events transpiring
in this mansion.

We have plenty of time my lady,
rest assured.

Before the sun shines in your room,

contemplate your first night.

We have a suitable bachelor.

He's no ordinary one, either.

Filthy rich, a gravy train.

We need to pack her
belongings, and send her...

to her husband's residence.

Certainly ma'am, this must
not be delayed by any means.

It's such a spectacular bachelor.

Should the wedding be delayed,

rumours would spread,
jeopardize the union.

The specifics of the
agreement are inconsequential.

This man has a great number
of adversaries, though.

Please disregard all the tales
and peculiar rumours you may hear.

As for the mansion's reputation,

it is obviously due to
the number of sofas in it.

May also be the number
of harem rooms, right?

Nesip!

Ragibe!

There's a mouse in the attic.

Oh, my lady...

haven't I told you
not to enter every room?

Laundry was hung up.
The sheets...

It's Salime's doing.

She hangs them up there since
it is warm in the mornings.

- Salime?
- The mute one.

- Mute?
- That's right.

Mr. Naşit is very fond of Salime.

She's somewhat akin to an
adopted child to Naşit Nefi.

Isn't she a bit too old
to be an adopted child?

She's trusted to him
by his father.

I suppose Nesip and Ragibe
played a trick on me.

Ah, my lady.

That's how these children are.

They are meant to
grow up independently.

Why?
They have me now.

They'd best not be
handled with softness.

Why not?

Butler İrfan...

I fear the matters I must attend to
today will require considerable time.

Expect me absent for dinner.

Certainly, my lord.

Do not leave the children
unattended.

- Advise the nanny.
- As you wish, my lord.

Excuse me.

Yes, my lady.

What is in here?

I don't know, my lady.

It's locked.

Many rooms here are locked.

They are not intended for entry.

God bless you, my lady.

Are you alright?

- I have a severe headache.
- Your head is always aching.

This one is different.

Feels like they're
wielding swords in my head.

Maybe you've had too much to drink.

Know your place.

Don't be enraged so quickly, sir.

Forgive me, but even hangovers
are created by God.

To serve as a reminder of our sins.

It's a delight while
committing them.

Yet the misery comes after.

Regret, too, is part
of God's creation.

Not in vain, of course.

Let the mortals punish themselves,

so that the divine
power may rest, correct?

Allow me to prepare you
a salty lemon juice, as usual.

It may soothe your stomach,
if not your head.

The pocket watch

had neither a clear semblance
nor particular purpose.

It was alive

with a silent presence.

A plethora of rumours
beyond human comprehension

What is it if not nonsense,
an unfounded superstition?

Come on, gentlemen!
Lift your glasses high!

Cheers!

Enjoy, gentlemen!

Let me go!
Let me go!

- Let go!
- Miss Fikriye, calm down!

- Let me go! Let me go!
- Miss Fikriye, children will hear!

It's me, Naşit Nefi.
Miss Fikriye! Calm down.

Calm down now.

What's gotten into you, Miss Fikriye?
Collect yourself.

There was somebody in the kitchen.

I'm telling you, I saw a hand.

Listen, Miss Fikriye...

My sole purpose in this life is
the wellbeing of my children and you.

I swear to God, I don't
anticipate cries of joy from you.

You are in a new home,

it's quite understandable that
you feel anxious and lonely.

But you must set aside
all your wishful thinking.

Please do explain
the peculiarities in this mansion.

What peculiarities?

The locked rooms, for instance?

This place is too big,
it's an old mansion.

You've seen the servants here.

It would be sinful to make
them work so tirelessly.

There is a cradle in the attic,
an old one.

Inside the cradle,
a dried rose in a box...

We must leave the past behind.
Let them stay there.

I suspect the children
played some tricks on me.

Please bear with them.

Could their innocent actions...

have any other motive than
to catch your attention?

They're just kids.

I have one more question,
if you'll indulge me.

What are those...

peculiar rumours that
not only reach my ears,

but also heard by
many reputable individuals?

What peculiar rumours?

About the mansion.

So, you've heard them as well?

I inherited this mansion
from my great ancestors.

Before the mansion's construction,

ancient saints' tombs
occupied this land.

Influenced by a power that
clouded their judgment,

these saints allegedly
conspired against the Sultan.

In the end,
they were decapitated

and buried on the seashore upon
which this mansion stands today.

As time passed,

the land rejected everything
constructed upon it.

Schools, mansions, temples...

Either burned down, collapsed,

or their owners repented
and deserted the land.

Only this mansion remains standing.

However...

At night,
headless saints wander

either in their dark chambers,

or within the hearts of the guests.

They seek an opportunity to ensnare

the guests of the house
in the same treachery.

Did you really believe it?

Oh, have mercy, Miss Fikriye!

How could you entertain
such a ludicrous tale?

You tell it so eloquently,

how could I not be affected by it?

Miss Fikriye, you are
the eloquent, enlightened lady.

You shouldn't believe
these childish fairy tales,

this fabricated
nonsense from old hags.

I am by no means convinced...

Yet...

The princess slept
peacefully for the first time,

after the night
she was lost in the dark forest.

It was an enormous house,

with curtains made of sweets.

But, because she was invisible,
no one was aware of her existence.

Nevertheless,
the princess would one day

reveal herself,
and demonstrate that

she was not a mere dream,
but flesh and blood like them.

- I didn't like this story at all.
- But I haven't finished yet.

It's a children's tale.

Father never tells us
tales like this.

What type of tales do you enjoy?

Suggest one, and I will tell it.

You wouldn't know those tales.

I'm full.

Me, too.

These children shouldn't be indulged
with so many sweets each day.

I'm not the one bringing
the sweets, dear.

Make sure it's not given to them.

It would be commendable if you could

extend goodwill to the
children in certain matters.

Reducing the incessant questioning,
for instance.

So that you may win their affection.

Where would you prefer
to have your coffees?

- In the garden, Butler İrfan.
- I'm sending Salime after you.

Fikriye?

Thank you, Salime.

Poor thing.

Why do you say so?

When certain feelings remain unspoken,
they lose all their depth.

Whereas words often pale
in comparison to certain feelings.

I spent my childhood here
among the Judas trees.

I would run around all day long.

Your parents?

I lost them at a very young age.

Butler İrfan has been more than a nanny,
she's been like a mother to me.

Butler İrfan…

Butler İrfan is a meticulous woman.

She's always polite
no matter what.

I'm certain she will
grow fond of you.

What about the scar
on Gülendam's face?

Just a scar, I don't know.

I suppose it's from her childhood.

Perhaps our quiet Gülendam
was a mischievous child, eh?

What about you?

Are you becoming
accustomed to being here?

It's difficult to forget
the past so quickly.

Everything is still so recent.

You suffer from your
unfortunate fate, just as I do.

I never got to know my late spouse.

We got engaged.

He was a poor orphan,
just like me.

Then he didn't make
it back from the War.

Poor soul.

How about you?

Please excuse my bluntness,
but as I mentioned last night,

sometimes it's necessary
to leave the past behind.

Otherwise, we'll end up in the grave
sooner than we should, won't we?

I intend to take you on a boat trip
when I'm a little less occupied.

With pleasure, my lord.

- I'd better tend to the children.
- Certainly.

I won't forget your
promise about the boat.

"These burqas
are used by some men

as a cloak of malice and mischief

to gain entry to various
places for nefarious purposes.

Recently, an armed man dressed
as a woman used a burqa

to enter a house, stole items,

and threw them out the
window to his accomplice."

- The hand in the kitchen?
- Of course.

A thief in burqa.

Unfortunately, we will not
be able to achieve any result.

Correct.

If only Miss Fikriye
had been able to see

more than just a hand, perhaps then.

We are aware of the violent acts
such individuals might engage in.

You're right.

What do you have to say about this?

Do you think these
individuals know you?

I don't believe so.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Once upon a time, in a faraway land,
there lived a little giraffe.

He was incredibly thin,
and his neck was unusually short.

He entertained children
in the squares of bazaars,

and at night he was locked
up in a cage all alone.

Didn't the giraffe have any friends?

It's a fairy tale, silly.
Apparently not!

Once again,
on one of those nights,

the full moon revealed its
luminous face through the clouds.

The lock between the cage bars
glistened in the darkness.

However, the lock was
at the top of the cage,

and the giraffe's neck
was too short to reach it.

- I got it!
- Shh!

The giraffe's neck grew taller and taller
until he was able to unlock the cage...

My clever little girl.

Little giraffe was determined
to escape from his cage

every night he tried really hard to
stretch its neck and reach the lock.

His neck then
grew taller and taller.

He used his teeth
to unlock the cage,

and then he fled from there.

However...

just as the baby giraffe
was about to run away...

a lion appeared, its sharp
teeth gleaming menacingly.

And bit the giraffe!

- Did it hurt a lot?
- It did, wouldn't it?

But in the end, the giraffe
managed to escape from the lion.

Eww, father!
What happened to your arm?

What do you think?

The lion bit.

Take a look and feel the scar.

You get along well
with the children.

Winning children's hearts
is actually easier than it seems.

A couple of sweet words
are all it takes.

I've discovered another trait of yours.

I tell these stories to them

so that they can understand...

that the world is not only
filled with fun and love,

but also with pain and sorrow.

So, they can grow up
to stand on their own feet.

Just a fiction, a fairytale.

What happened to your arm?

I don't know,
I just saw it bleeding today.

Cleansed with some warm water
and then forgot about it.

Sometimes you seem like such a
different person, I can't recognize you.

Give me your hand.

Nesip?

Ragibe?

Children?

Nesip?

I hope you enjoyed it all.

- Who's been giving them sweets to you?
- As if you don't know who.

- How would I know, dear?
- Hasn't Gülendam told you?

No, she hasn't.
Why don't you tell me?

Mother brings these sweets to us.

Is it your grandmother,
Butler İrfan?

Which mother, then?

- Which mother, my child?
- Our mother, the witch.

What kind of talk is that?

Why you offended?
You're not our real mother.

So many false mothers like you
have come and gone from this house.

So, you have a real mother?
And where does she live?

Sister!

- In the Rumelia cemetery.
- So, she lives in a cemetery?

Sister!

She comes out at nights
to brings us sweets.

Witch mother drowns anyone
who dares to harm us.

Just try to hit us,
see what she does!

Gülendam!

Tell me, who brings these
sweets to the children?

We cannot utter every
word we wish, milady.

It is forbidden for us
to use foul language.

So, a basket full of candies,
carried by a witch?

A pitch-black hand…

What's wrong?

Why don't you want to hear it?
What is this thing?

Please give me an
answer for God's sake.

- Have you seen it as well?
- I have not seen a thing.

Gülendam!

It is forbidden for us
to use foul language, milady.

Listen, Gülendam.

There is nothing left
to hide about it anymore.

What if it hurts me?
What if it hurts the children?

- Will you not pity us at all?
- Milady.

It came at me as well.

What if something happens to me?

How would you answer
to your Lord Naşit Nefi?

I barely managed to save my life
by praying endlessly, Gülendam!

Be cautious of the lord's wives, milady.
The previous ones...

You're not the first one
to come to this mansion.

God willing, you will be the last.

What?

What did you say?

Do not pay heed to
my nonsense, milady.

Neither speak of it yourself, nor listen
to talks about it if someone tells you.

Close your ears.

Listening to these would
do you more harm than good.

Welcome Mr. Şinasi.

How dare you address people
you don't know so carelessly?

I'm terribly sorry, sir.

Forgive me,
I must have mistaken you.

What would you like to have, sir?

- Brandy, please.
- Right away, sir.

- Who are you?
- Sir!

Who are you?
Who are you?

- Who are you? Tell me, who are you?
- Sir, leave him! What are you doing?

Do not trouble yourself
with such childish matters.

Trust me, all right?

Of course, I didn't believe it.

But it makes no sense for someone
to fabricate such a convoluted lie.

We've discussed this already, Fikriye.
It's preposterous.

Then how do you
explain certain facts?

What facts, dear?

It's nothing but malice,
treason, cowardice.

I knew there was a secret.

There are no secrets.

Malice, treason, cowardness.

Who are these words addressed to?

You're hurting me.

To an unknown adversary.

Who is it? Who are these
unknown adversaries?

Everyone!

Those who spread
those rumours about me.

Those who fabricate
all this nonsense.

Where does this sudden
hostility come from?

Well, this is the extent of the
harm they can do to me, Fikriye.

Look, I was raised in this mansion,

and now I'm raising
my own children here.

For years they try in
vain to find my weaknesses,

so they spread these fabricated lies

and witch tales
for their treacherous purposes.

Have you not suspected anyone
among those close to you?

Never!

Never.

Who died on the shore?

The shore?
What shore?

Everyone's heard about
the body on the shore.

But there is no such body, Fikriye.

All these rumours
spreading like wildfire…

Your second wife strangled
on the shore, isn't it all true?

It's not.

No.

Şükriye was not killed by
some witch strangling her.

She simply abandoned
me and the children.

But why?

Because she was obsessed
with this witch, just like you.

Fikriye, as far as I know,
everyone died of natural causes.

My mother, father,
my first wife, the late Binnaz…

And besides, if such incidents...

resembling murder occurred,
wouldn't we have

reports from physicians
and constables?

Where are they?

Who brings those sweets
to the children at night?

Fikriye, I beg you...

You really don't believe
that my witch wife

emerges from her grave at night and
brings these sweets here, do you?

There are some
peculiarities going on.

All right. All right.
Here's something even more peculiar.

It seems Gülendam was fearful and
hesitant to tell you the entire story.

According to what
this naive woman says,

if the children are cold at night,

their witch-mommy comes
and tucks them in.

In cold winter nights,

she stokes the fire when
the coal in the heater is finished,

and fills their jugs with water.

I know, I know
it sounds absurd, but…

A superstitious peasant woman,

believing in witchcraft,
obsessed with amulets and fairy tales.

I've exhorted her countless times not
to tell such things to the children.

But only freaks like her come
to work in this mansion, you see.

These are all rumours, I know.

But, don't I deserve to know who
gives these sweets to the children?

Know that I stand by you.

My lord?
Are you all right?

Forgive me, I drowsed off.

I felt dizzy for a second.

You've gone pale.

I suppose I'm a bit weary.
I'd best retire for the night.

Let me fetch you some water.

I didn't mean to upset you.

Please forgive me.

I had seen laurel leaves
in my dreams on my first night here.

It's a good sign,
my lady, a good one.

Laurels symbolize
strength and power.

You have power over Mr. Naşit.

Apparently, when love is so pure,
power follows.

Power, Butler İrfan, is not always
meant to benefit us humankind.

Very well said, my lady.

You're an enlightened woman.

Everyone must have
their own share of words.

Salime, empty the sack and come back.

Nefi esteems you highly as well.

- How long have you been here?
- I was born and raised here.

We have served this
family for generations.

So, you have seen Nefi's
childhood as well?

Of course.

He spent his childhood
here in this garden,

running around all day long.

What about the others?

The staff at the mansion
has been constantly changing.

The mansion is old, has a lot of work.
Not everyone can keep up.

Besides, every new
lady requires new maids.

Gülendam is one of
the new maids, right?

Gülendam hails from
a rural area, my lady.

She understands the traditions well.

She's a diligent, skilful girl.

Butler İrfan...

You are akin to a
grandmother to the children,

the pillar of strength
in this household.

As I endeavour to understand
the workings of this mansion,

to fulfil my roles as
both a wife and a mother,

I have one last question to ask.

Of course, my lady.

Do these rumours
concerning the witch...

Do they hold any truth,
or are they mere hearsay?

Events of inexplicable
nature do occur, little miss.

Tell me the truth,
for the love of God.

I can't think of
anything else anymore.

The children show me no respect,

and I am haunted by nightmares.

Tell me, please…

Is there a truth to
this witch rumours?

There is.

There is?

So the dead shall
rise from their graves?

Yes.

I know it, when the lady passed away,
we bound her jaw.

I myself bathed
her lifeless, stark body.

During the funeral, I noticed
Nefi did not shed a single tear.

Let this remain between us,
one does not take revenge by death.

But was he not even slightly
pleased by Binnaz's death?

I love Naşit as though he were
my own son, I've watched him grow up.

He once loved his wife,
yet they argued frequently.

Binnaz was a vigorous woman,
often tormented Nefi.

Even in life, she was akin
to a wicked, jealous spirit.

So, he didn't shed a tear...

In this world, one must make peace

not only with the living but
also with the departed, little miss.

How did all these oddities begin?

On the very first night...

while the Quran was being recited,

and the halvah was being cooked...

I saw her!
I swear I saw her!

I swear, it's upstairs!

In her shroud!

I saw her in the room where...

A burst of chaos and
terror erupted in the mansion.

That night, it appeared that
she was wandering in her shroud.

Not one, but three women
claimed to have seen her.

This witch…

I mean Miss Binnaz...

Does she have a picture somewhere?

I don't know,
a photography perhaps?

What kind of a woman was she?
Who was she?

I have arrived to fulfil my promise
about that boat trip, my lady.

The preparations for our
departure are being made.

Come now, dear, prepare.
I'm awaiting.

Mr. Nefi, I cannot forgive myself

for having troubled and distressed
you with all this nonsense.

You are right,

what a misdeed it is to speak
and spread such foolishness.

Finally, you see the
truth of my words.

I do.

People are often cruel,

shifting blame to others
for their own sins.

Otherwise, they'll create victims to
inflict their suffering.

You are so gorgeous.

I wish you'd tell everyone
about these reasonable facts.

You see, true elegance
isn't merely external,

it resides within our hearts.

I am utterly ashamed

to have entertained
any of these rumours.

The desire to know her,
to see her...

This curiosity has consumed
me so profoundly that…

To see whom?

Binnaz.

How juvenile of you, Miss Fikriye.

How was that meant to occur?

She will certainly
not emerge from her grave.

Certainly not.

Perhaps you have a picture of her?

One of those new photographies?

Why the sudden
interest in photography?

Nefi, we're drifting.

I wish you'd direct these inquiries
to those who spread all the gossip.

Those whose sole intent is
to tarnish my reputation!

But the lies hold such sway...

The boat, Nefi!
We will capsize!

Once these lies are uttered,

they cling to life with a tenacity.

Who cares if they are true or not.

Enough of this!
You are frightening me!

You're frightened of me?

My dear, I believe
you frighten yourself.

You strive to feign indifference,

yet this witch matter
made you rather uneasy.

Let's head back now!
Please.

Dear, it would be best for everyone
if you forget about this witch.

- Give me those...
- Stop!

- Miss Fikriye, stop!
- Let me go!

Fikriye!

Enough already!
Enough!

Wherever I turn,
traces of her linger!

In the forbidden rooms,
on the mirrors, it's all her image.

It's all I think about now.

It's suffocating me, you hear?
It's burying me alive!

My lord!
My lord!

Are you all right?

Run!

There's nothing wrong with him,
he's just a bit fatigued.

He spoke to himself
with a peculiar voice.

He was delirious due to high fever.

Let's keep him under observation.

I shall prescribe some medicine.

May he recover swiftly.

Miss Fikriye.

It's regrettable that such an unfortunate
event precipitated our meeting.

Have there been any peculiar
occurrences in the mansion?

Who are you?
How did you get in the house?

Forgive me,
the physician asked me to.

My name is Kenan,
I am a colleague of Mr. Nefi's.

He is a figure of
utmost significance,

we cannot help but
be concerned about his health.

I apologize if I went too far.

He conversed with himself.

In a strange voice.

Something is happening to him.

Please remain composed.

I shall approach it with
the requisite sensitivity,

and investigate what is transpiring.

He mentioned
an adversary last evening.

Malice, treason, cowardness.

Take all precautions.

Children?

Why didn't you go to sleep?

Did you get scared?

Ragibe? Nesip?

What are you doing here?

We're eating the candies
our mom brought.

Would you like some?

Mother?

Fikriye, it's me! It's me.
Calm down. Calm down.

Behind me…
Children…

The witch…
The witch...

No one is around Fikriye.

No one but you and me.

What are you even doing here
for God's sake?

It's a nightmare,
a dreadful nightmare.

What's befalling me?
I'm terrified, Nefi.

Shh, it's all right. It's all right.

There, now. It's all right.
Don't you worry.

Everything will be fine.

Don't be afraid, all right?

Unfortunately, dear,
the Blessed Soul...

is terribly jealous of you,

because of her children and me.

Hence the witchcraft.

Get back to your children, Fikriye.

The children are calling for you.

October 25th, 1880, Rumelia.

Following that night,
I couldn't bring myself

to glance at the
witch's portrait again.

Yet her presence kept
lingering in my imagination,

her gaze growing
even more terrifying,

her eyes widening in the
darkness of a solar eclipse.

I now knew for certain
that madness was taking hold

in the mansion,
spreading like a contagion.

Despite my efforts to resist,
I was ensnared in its grip.

Her memory crept into my thoughts,

pulling me towards her grave.

A part of me desperately
longed for things to return to normalcy,

while another part sought
any shred of evidence.

What manner of
illusions and nightmares

could drive me to tremble in dread

at the mere image
of a deceased woman long decayed,

immortalized in a portrait?

Time waned like the fleeting dreams
of a little girl, goodwill exhausted.

For all suspicions harboured
thus far were proving valid,

the sinister force that seized Nefi

now revealed the fate that
awaited me with startling clarity.

Children.

Let me see,
what is it you're drawing?

Who is this?

Who is making you draw these?

Gülendam, no drawings
in the mansion from now on.

- But...
- No objections!

I cannot endure any more
peculiarities in this household.

Milady, let's not hurt
the blessed soul, please.

What blessed soul?
You imbecile.

That evil creature shall no longer

be called a blessed
soul in this mansion.

Never shall children be
subjected to such preposterous,

horrifying tales again!

Do you understand?

Listen to me carefully now.

Your witch mother is resting
in her grave in Rumelia.

I'm your true mother,
not some decaying bones.

The fairy tale is over.

Milady!
Wait!

I've served Miss Binnaz quite a lot.

- Please let me come and pray for her.
- Sure.

But we're going to unearth
her grave, not to pray.

No, my lady, please don't.

I've had enough of this!
If you hinder me, don't bother coming.

My lady...

I had neither a father,
nor a husband to take care of me.

I was given nothing but fear.

I was cast out onto
the street like refuse.

I was forced to become the lady
in a house unfamiliar to me.

Perhaps, I thought,
over time,

I would become the lady of a house,
the mother of orphans.

Yet again, not to be.

In dark, suffocating rooms,
I live in a constant state of anxiety,

my life hanging by a thread,
I feel like I'm buried alive.

I won't allow it!
Do you hear me?

If we burn, we burn together.
In hellfire if need be!

Please, a touch of
patience, restraint.

At times, our imagination
proves more adept

at ensnaring us than
malevolent spirits.

If I flee from this malevolence
under the sway of my imagination,

would I not betray
my love, Butler İrfan?

This witch is neither Binnaz
nor any other woman.

It is a demon, a scourge,
a torment to our sanity.

This will surely lead to madness!

Some forces are simply irresistible.

What is digging a grave?
It's a sin!

It's a curse!

Isn't it her soul
that will plague us all?

Don't you believe in the soul?

You love and cherish
Nefi like a son, don't you?

Help me, then.

Hold my hand.

Mother?

Quickly, quickly!
Let's go! Faster! Hurry up!

Hurry up, hurry up!
Faster!

Gülendam?

Gülendam, what are you doing?

Praying, my lady.

I know it, she's here.

- Gülendam!
- I saw it.

She was right at my bedside.

“Pray,” she said.
“Pray, pray!"

"Fear the wrath of
the blessed soul!"

I wrote down spells,
but to no avail.

Children! Children!
Quickly now, hurry up!

Get in there!

Leave us alone!
Go to hell! To hell!

What is going on here?
What is all this rumble?

She's here.

Dear God, it's happening again.

Where is Naşit Nefi?

In his room.

- Children! Children!
- Come now.

My son, Nefi!
Nefi!

Nefi...

DEATH IS BENEVOLENT, PLEASANT.
IT STIMULATES.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, do you know this person?

Sure, that way.

Ma'am.

How may I help you, ma'am?

I'm looking for this respectable man.

That sort of people
do not come here ma'am,

you have been misinformed.

God bless you.

Ma'am!

- Send our regards to Mr. Şinasi.
- Şinasi?

We know Şinasi well.

He visits the tavern on some nights.

A merry,
well-mannered young man.

You just got married, right, ma'am?

You appear to be mistaken, mister.

My husband is Mr. Naşit Nefi.

And he can hardly
be labelled as merry.

Have a good day.

Miss Fikriye?

- Miss Fikriye, what are you doing here?
- None of your concern.

It's about Nefi, isn't it?

Miss Fikriye, please
allow me to help you.

- I know that all this…
- You know?

How could you possibly know?

Besides, what exactly do you do?

I am at a loss, my lady.
I told you, we're colleagues.

Are you trailing Nefi and me?

- Are you some sort of detective?
- Nothing of the sort.

We are genuinely concerned
about him, that's all.

Are you planning to report us, too?

Who are you, really?
Answer my question.

We work in a translation bureau,
versed in many tongues.

Our duty is to acquire
foreign journals

to report on matters
we deem significant.

Disclaimers, corrections,
reports to ambassadors…

We strive for accurate
public information, that's all.

It couldn't be otherwise.

Therefore, Miss Fikriye,

please trust me.

So, your task is to make sure

the government's mission
remains unquestioned.

What would you do, anyway?
How do you intend to help us?

My lady, what was once mere
rumour is now published,

circulating widely, spoken openly,
reaching every ear.

The ones you love the most
are the ones you doubt the most.

You wish to help?

Here, I am looking for this man.

Locate and bring him to me.

I've been informed
that he is a wise man.

Who gave you that information?

And for what purpose?

As per Gülendam's account,

he is reputed for his
practice of exorcism,

both locally and
in distant villages.

Exorcism?

We are ensnared by a witch,

who contaminated not only Nefi,
but also the land and the water.

All the nightmares took on
flesh and bone in the mansion,

- proving to be true.
- Miss Fikriye.

These exorcists, spiritualists,

necromancers are
nothing short of demonic.

They are mere charlatans
who exploit people's fears.

What other recourse do I have?
There's nothing more I can do.

- I was naive at the outset, yet...
- Listen.

It is not possible for
you to make any headway,

by randomly asking people
on the streets for exorcists.

My friendly advice is that you
relinquish hope in this matter.

There's a report about a community,
calling themselves as magnetists.

This foreigner, who studied in Paris,
may prove advantageous to us.

Who is this individual?

A figure who attracted
our attention.

He goes by the name Mesmer.

Mr. Mesmer?

This is bone of my bones,
and flesh of my flesh...

They shall be one body,
and they shall become one.

...and they shall become one.

How will you save us from this evil?

I see no evil here, Miss Fikriye.

There are no irresistible
forces in nature.

We believe in reactions, not evils.

How do you explain the
witch I saw with my own eyes,

possessing my husband?

A supernatural incident
exposes us to the unknown,

reminding us of our helplessness.

Whispers in the dark of the night,
shifting shadows...

Consider, what is there to fear?

Could it be that we fear
they might harm us?

Do you believe I fabricated it all?

No, I'm simply suggesting

we must investigate
how it came into existence.

There are enigmatic forces
in the world, Miss Fikriye.

Humans have insisted on the idea
that the world was flat. Why?

Because they feared the unknown
secrets of a round world.

We could've fallen down.

But one day,
they discerned its workings.

We must uncover
the source of our fear.

I'm not denying the existence
of these monstrous creatures.

I'm asserting my desire to
comprehend who and what they are,

how they operate,
and their existence.

So, what are you going to do?

Firstly, I must emphasize

that you cannot mention any
details of our sessions to anyone.

I employ unconventional methods.

Not just for the
sake of our sessions,

but also to ensure yours
and mine protection.

- From whom?
- This entity, for instance.

So, you believe it as well?

What do you fear, Miss Fikriye?

I fear failing my loved ones.

And you?

Losing control over my life.

These fears are genuine,

yet they also impede the flow
of energy within our bodies.

The forces that inhibit,
that suppress magnetism can be managed.

Only a shock that propels us

back into the embrace of
hysteria can align us with nature.

All of it happens under my control.

Are you sure?

It's not without danger, but we risk
losing him forever if we give up now.

Instead of dwelling in
a life shackled by fear,

I am prepared to confront
all eventualities.

I'll do whatever it takes to
rescue him from this demon.

Demon lurks in the dark
for the day it shall strike,

nourishing on our weaknesses,
and sorrowful memories.

In order to vanquish the witch,

we must also confront
our deepest fear.

- What is it?
- Death, obviously.

There is one final matter
I would like to...

What is all this noise?

Fikriye...

What is going on here, Fikriye?

Who is this gentleman?

Come, Nefi.

There is no need for fear.

Anton Mesmer has studied in Paris.

He's conducting some
examinations here.

He is a wise scholar.

I'm delighted to meet you, Mr. Nefi.

I shall endeavour to illuminate
the mysteries of this mansion.

And above all,

I am confident I can expel
the entity from this place.

Believe me, you have
a very courageous wife.

We need to talk, Fikriye.

It would be best if we
permanently parted our beds.

Listen to me, Fikriye.

I've been thinking...

This witch harbours a jealousy of the
most malevolent nature towards you.

No one minds having multiple
wives at the same time.

Very well, let her come and
be the lady of her house.

Fikriye...

- You can't catch me! You can't catch me!
- Don't run!

Mr. Mesmer is here to help us.

Please, come with me.

What is happening?

I implore you, Mr. Nefi,
do not worry.

I will have some questions
for you to answer.

You must focus your mind.

It is absolutely imperative
for my method to work.

Especially your faith in it.

All of our struggle will
be in vain otherwise.

Have you ever experienced
memory lapses?

- What is this now?
- Nefi.

- No.
- Think hard.

For instance, have you ever donned attire
but couldn't recall the reason why?

Or, encountered a stranger
claiming they know you?

You are under the influence
of this entity, Mr. Nefi.

I'm not sure of its authenticity.

You shall now descend
into a deep slumber.

Execute my commands precisely,
step by step.

Be at ease, your mind
shall remain lucid,

and you shall speak
without impediment.

Wait a second.

Shall I be able to wake up?

What if I drift into a
perpetual state of slumber?

I can rouse you from sleep as
effortlessly as I can induce it, Mr. Nefi.

Fikriye?
Shall Fikriye join me in slumber?

The force of magnetism eludes
detection by the sound of mind,

it ensnares only those who
have lost their harmony.

Now, direct your full attention
to the wand I hold in my hand.

Take a deep breath.

A magnificent essence
courses through your body.

Look at the red dot on the wand.

More carefully.

More carefully.

More carefully.

And more carefully.

The red dot begins to flicker slightly,
can you see it?

The red dot is slowly
approaching towards you.

Drawing closer.

Closer.

And everything is red.

Your eyes are closing slowly.

I will now count
backwards from five.

Five…

Your body grows numb.

Four…

You are at peace.

Three…

Your eyelids are closed shut.

Two…
One…

When I snap my fingers,
you shall awaken in a white room.

Submit yourself to the void.

You are devoid of any thought.

Stand up.

There is a door in front of you.
Walk towards it.

We unlock the door and
dive into a wonderland.

We find ourselves

strolling on this splendid day

beneath the azure
sky in this valley.

Are you able to see
the beautiful view?

I'm thinking.

Is there a concern troubling you?

Closing my eyes.

Brave now.

Banish all negativity from your mind.
Step into that valley.

Let us listen to the sounds
of nature surrounding us...

The birds, the leaves,
the wind.

Proceed to the forest
at the end of the valley.

In this forest lies a palace,

within which resides dungeons
brimming with treasures.

Labyrinths, corridors, and vaults.

Today, you are going to
explore these secret chambers.

My feet…

Very heavy.

You can make it.
Keep walking.

Between the rocks
lies an entrance gate.

A small, secret gate.

The gate shall open slowly.

And the path shall take you deep
into a vast vault.

What lies there?

It's dark.

Like a tunnel.

Within that tunnel
lie distinct chambers,

each with its own gate.

Can you see them?

Yes.

It's closed.

The gates are locked.

You shall unlock
the gates and enter.

But how? It's locked.

It must be a chamber
not intended for entry.

Try the keys in your pocket.

What do we have here?

A green cover.

What is underneath?

It's a coffin.

Who is inside?

My mother.

What was the cause?

She took her own life.

Let us depart from this chamber
and enter the other one.

I want you to continue.

At the dungeon's end,

there lies a marked
stone upon the wall.

When you touch it it will take you
to the room that should not be entered.

Push onto that stone
with all your might.

Can you do it?

What is going on?

What do you see, Mr. Naşit?

- Mr. Naşit?
- My lady...

He is mine.

Poor, pathetic, desperate Nefi.

You shall not pry him
from my possession.

- We should stop.
- Please, enough.

Who are you?

His masters.

Mr. Mesmer!

I shall count down from five,
and upon snapping my fingers,

you shall awaken with no
recollection of this encounter.

Five…

Four…

You are slowly coming
out of the tunnel.

Three…
Two…

Go back to the white room.

One.

Return to us, Mr. Nefi.

But I can't.

Why not?

I'm just a five-year-old child.

How can I climb out this well
all by myself?

Awaken!

Awaken!

Awaken!

What happened here?

We must resume
our sessions, Miss Fikriye.

What caused him to see
himself at the age of five?

More importantly,
Miss Fikriye,

why was he at the bottom of a well?

Remember...

The witch said "masters,"
implying it's not a singular entity.

We are now confronted with
a mother who took her own life.

Every aspect must be
subjected to doubt.

You should pull yourself
together, my lady. Stay strong.

Remain by Nefi's side.

What might love achieve
against such wicked force?

Miss Fikriye, the most potent
emotion in the world is not love,

nor is it freedom,
justice, or honour.

It is mercy.

That's why our God is called
the Gracious and the Merciful.

He shows pity, compassion,
and grants us mercy.

That is what will
ultimately rescue us.

Good night.

For the love of God...

A grave sin is being committed.

Terrible things will happen to us.

It is us, the poor shall suffer
for the torture inflicted on him.

It will suffocate us, too.

It will mute us just like you!

Perhaps it's all because of you!

You've come to the mansion
as an adopted child.

Where did you come from?

Which wicked seed birthed you?

What is going on here?

What are you doing?

I've come to help cleaning ma'am.

You will explain the
situation in the basement.

Ma İrfan, you know
one should not meddle with her.

Wouldn't God take our lives right
then and there if He had no plan?

- Don't you at least believe in miracles?
- Silence!

The godless magnetist's words
will not only destroy the miracle,

but him as well.

She will ruin us all!

Who is it?

Salime…

Why don't you come down?

Ever since I arrived
at this mansion,

I never had the
opportunity to speak to you.

We are nothing but
two mute women here.

We require no words to converse.

We still understand each other.

Come, Salime, come.
Don't be afraid.

We mustn't succumb to fear,

lest this mansion consumes us.

Salime...

Why don't we send you
to one of those new midwifery schools?

You would perhaps
learn to read and write.

Me?

I keep a diary.

I inscribe my experiences,
feelings and thoughts.

I've even submitted one of
them to the Journal of Progress.

It was published!

Indeed, a lady author is often
deemed the most repelling.

I used a man's name, so what?

I've also composed
a poem here in the mansion.

Would you like me to recite it?

The pocket watch

had neither a clear semblance
nor particular purpose.

It was alive

with a silent presence.

We are two orphan women,

all alone in this
enormous mansion, Salime.

The witch?

Gülendam?

I've seen the spells
she made, Salime.

Poor woman,
her intention was to aid us.

All she has done was
meant to protect us.

Salime...

You were an adopted child
in this house, right?

Entrusted by Nefi's father.

A tragedy occurred in
this mansion, Salime.

You've had your portion
of this tragedy as well.

I know.

My dear physician
friend Anton Mesmer...

"Hypnosis must be banned"

What makes one a human
is not solely one's will

but also their imagination.

When the mind says "I want",
the will says "but I can't".

What is will
compared to our dreams?

You see...

We are not subject to our dreams,
but to our deepest desires.

However,

Yet, it is not our common fears
that daunt us, but our deepest ones.

As one adheres to
this inner imperative,

we shall encounter this
malevolent spirit therein.

- Trust me.
- Welcome, Mr. Mesmer.

We didn't expect to see you so soon.

- Please, do sit.
- Of course.

I don't know how to
express my gratitude.

All that diligent preparation
yesterday was unnecessary.

It's my job, sir.
I intend to continue today.

There is no need, dear sir,
no need at all.

I feel so liberated,

and weightless as a bird.

The cage on your
back must be removed

and discarded, Mr. Naşit,
wouldn't you say?

I say this charlatanry
should cease at once.

Mr. Naşit, I have witnessed
numerous evil spirits and witches.

demons speak the
language of desires...

the language of imagination.

Enough of this.

These people are all imposters.

I'm going to help you,
put your faith in me.

My lord, you're unwell.
You cannot rest here in this state.

- If we neglect tranquillity...
- You stay out of this!

Get out of the room.
At once!

My lady...

It's you who have all these keys.

Locked doors, lost items,
vanished memories...

All your doing.

Those forbidden
words are your doing.

And all these stories, too…
Isn't that true?

It was you who taught me
the order of this mansion.

You said the children
meant to grow up independently.

That they shouldn't be
handled with softness.

You said that Nefi did not shed a tear
when Binnaz passed away.

You said we must make
peace with the departed.

It is you who implants and nurtures
the witch within our hearts.

You are not merely a butler,
but a guardian!

Close the doors.

We may begin now.

When I snap my fingers,

you will descend
into a deep slumber.

I now wish to converse
with the true Naşit Nefi.

But with the 5-year-old Nefi.

The boy in the well.

I want you to straighten up slowly.

Open your eyes.

Talk to me.

- How old are you, Naşit Nefi?
- Nefi.

I don't like Naşit.

Why not?

I don't want grandpa's name.

How old are you?

What do you think?
Five!

You know what Nefi?

There's a room with hidden
treasures in this mansion.

You're the only one who
can discover their location.

However,

besides treasures,
there are also peculiar secrets

that should not be witnessed or
spoken of in this mysterious place.

But you're a very brave child, Nefi.
You can achieve this.

I want you to walk around the rooms.

Where are you?

In the room of my Ma İrfan.

What is in there?

My spinning top.

My friend Salime only talks to me.

Because I'm the only
one who can hear her.

- She could talk before.
- What happened?

Father got very angry with her.

You shall behave
in accordance with the order.

You are the offspring of
a generation destined to rule the world.

Look at my face.

Look!

- Who am I?
- My dad.

I am not your dad...

I am your sire.

All those portraits on the wall,
they are your ancestors.

Your grandfather's watch.

Take it.

You shall always carry it with you.

Where is your mother?

She hanged herself
in the garden with the Judas trees.

I spent my childhood here
among the Judas trees.

Let's enter
the most secret room now.

It is locked.

There are many
rooms that are locked.

It must be a room that
is not to be entered.

Do you remember?
You have all the keys in your pocket.

Naşit!

Go on and tell the story
of the beheaded saints.

What fate awaits those
who defy their father?

Please, stop this!
I beg you.

Leave my boy alone.
Hasn't he suffered enough?

Mr. Haydar was a rough man.

He was old-fashioned.

I couldn't make him stop.

He didn't listen to me.

Please, sir, don't do it.

It was just a mistake.

Spare the child.
He was just scared.

It's not about reform, İrfan.

Ah, İrfan, ah...

You simply cannot understand.

The solution lies not in reforming,

but rather in purification.

He will be purified,
whiter than white.

He used to confine Naşit.

Locked him up
in the most unusual places.

To punish him in his own way.

Leave me, please!

Do not separate me
from my children, I beg you!

Please, stop!
Please! Please...

Let us go to the well, Nefi.

He shall be buried in
this pit in the coming morning.

How will the poor child draw breath?

A hose, a pipe…
Find something, İrfan.

The well shall not be his abyss,

but his salvation.

Fetch Salime.

You will frighten her.
She is still a baby.

- What happened afterward?
- Father died.

Poisoned.

Ma İrfan told me.
Bad people poisoned him.

Why are you rubbing
your wrists, Nefi?

Because father ties me
too tight, that's why.

You are both the
witch and the child,

aren't you, Nefi?

That's why you protect the children
and bring them sweets.

Leave him alone!
He's a saint, a blessed soul.

Devil damn you all!

Let me go!
He's a miracle of God!

I've seen it, he talked to me.

Learn your lesson!

You shall all burn in hell,
all of you!

What did you do after
your father died, Nefi?

I've talked with my friends.

With cats, dogs...

Birds...
My spinning top.

You were divided into
multiple personalities.

You were all of them,

and also none of them,
isn't that right?

Who's laughing?

Someone's laughing at me!
Who's laughing?

Who's laughing?

Who's laughing at me?

Who's laughing?
Who's laughing at me?

What did your father
do to you, Nefi? Tell me.

He cleaned me.

Nefi, no.
Stop punishing yourself!

He purified me.

I could not be reformed, he said.

No, Nefi.
No!

He hasn't done any of it.
You were just a helpless child.

You're not guilty for
what has been done to you.

What did your father
do to you, Nefi? Say it!

He tortured me!

Tormented me...

Tied me up...

Locked me up.

No witch anymore.

Neither the child, the demon,
nor the father remain, Nefi.

None of them can
harm you any longer.

Nefi, you are a very strong...

and a very good boy.

You pushed along every
dreadful aspect in this mansion.

I request you to
go to the very top of the house.

Now, stand up.

Something awaits for you there,
something you seek to achieve.

A secret within you, concealed for
the entirety of your existence, forgotten.

Yet, also enduring,
a constant companion.

Take that note.

That note is addressed to you, Nefi.

To you alone.

What does it say?

Fear not.

Miss Fikriye…

What did you do to Binnaz, Nefi?

The witch is revived not
in your father's image,

but in Binnaz's memory.

All those false mothers
have fled from you.

What have you done to them?

Do not forget that
the message is yours, Mr. Nefi.

I request you, fear not.

Binnaz is not a witch.

She's a victim, isn't she?

Why did you marry those women, Nefi?

Why did you marry me?

What did you want from us?
Tell me.

She fell.

She fell.

She fell!

She fell...

I couldn't do anything.

She drowned.

All I did was to watch her.

Did you like the roses?

Please converse with me.

Your silence torments me.

I am neither your mistress,
nor your governess.

You're not my father, either.

Yet you readily perceive me
as a substitute for your mother.

What's that supposed to mean?

Did your mother stop
nursing you prematurely?

How is it juvenile to desire affection,
yearn for nurturing, and crave sincerity?

You can't fool me with
those tales anymore, Naşit!

Save them for Ragibe.

You should have striken them instead
of spinning another fairy tale.

You shouldn't have laid
a hand on the children.

You had sworn on the Quran!

For the love of God...

I kept it to myself,
for I didn't want to hurt you.

You are not stable,
you cannot be reformed.

What?

You have lost your mind,
you're mad.

You must be confined.

You're ruthless.

You're cruel.
Do you hear me?

Cruel. Cruel.

Cruel.
Cruel!

You were a broken child, Nefi,
but now you've grown.

You alone bear responsibility for
your weaknesses and shortcomings,

not the souls long turned to bones.

You are not seeking the witch,
you are seeking yourself.

And you've found your true self,
never to part again.

I shall now snap my fingers,

and you shall remember and understand
everything, without any omissions.

Feeling a sense of
triumph and relief...

Awaken.

You will be conveyed to
the public prison in Sultanahmet.

Do you have any relatives, children?

Salime is my daughter,
Naşit Nefi is my son.

Leave Nefi out of it.

You have confessed your crime.

You are under arrest for the
poisoning and murder of Mr. Haydar.

Explain yourself, why did you do it?

Mr. Haydar is Salime's father.

And Naşit Nefi is her stepbrother.

Is that why you killed him?

My lady took her own
life because of him.

I am the sole witness to the torments
he inflicted upon the children.

When my dear Naşit
was just a little boy,

he would assume various personas,
creating imaginary friends.

My intention was to
protect the children.

To heal their wounds.

They are my babies.

Who else could understand them?

You?

You fabricated a
false history for the mansion.

Take her away.

You are to be taken
to the Toptaşı Asylum.

We've been observing
you for some time,

trying to discern
your true identity.

At first, we suspected
you were an enemy spy,

by the name of Mr. Şinasi.

You'll feel better.

Please, do not lock me up
with those lunatics.

Once the necessary arrangements are made,
I will learn the regulation

and get you out of there.
Don't you worry.

I didn't mean to harm Binnaz.

I only wanted to
protect my children.

I am not my father, Kenan.

Get some rest.
Please.

You must regain your health.

While the disaster on the boat claimed
one monster, it birthed another.

In seeking retribution against
his father through Binnaz's image,

Nefi recreated him
by committing the same error.

As per the Butler's account,

all these varied personas
stem from Nefi's childhood.

Anything evoking confinement
and restraint fuels the witch.

Especially any cruelty
inflicted upon his children.

There are numerous personalities
developed within him.

It appears that the witch serves not
only as a shroud concealing the truth,

but also, as a reflection
distorted by bent mirrors.

All he desires is to be unveiled,
to be recognized.

Tell me, Mr. Mesmer,

why is all the torment,
all the self-punishment?

This cruel persona isn't
a witch, nor a demon.

It's merely an enraged,
ostensibly overpowered,

frightened child.

Do we not all do the same?

Do we not craft our own demons
through the tales we pass around?

We're lucky if we don't perish
in this nest of impurity.

What will we do if an epidemic akin
to the one in Sulaymaniyah breaks out?

- How many have died there?
- A lot. All from cholera.

They say whoever ends up here is
either an informant or a rebel.

Mad lad doesn't even have the capability
to hit the head, let alone rebel.

Come, come.

You know what happened
to this invalid?

Him?

His father killed his mother,
and this one killed his wife.

They say such calamities pass
from generation to generation.

Poor devil, he's gone mad.

Maybe he was lovesick.

Don't you wish.
Don't you wish.

As the pitch-black night descended
upon the mansion where he lived,

he would transform into a witch,

prowling from one
household to another,

strangling new brides
wherever he could find them!

Nonsense.

Let me tell you,
they are all frauds.

He obviously tricked
all the physicians.

When you fail to make
your wife heed your words,

you're destined to either roam
the streets as a wretched beggar

or land right here to suffer.

That is how it is.

I am liberated from this madhouse
and returned to the mansion.

Once more, the sun rises,
flowers bloom,

birds fly about our garden
filled with Judas trees,

the children running around.

We are married again.

A young, beautiful widow...

I struggle with her at first,

but over time, I grow accustomed.

I know that she loves me, too.

This is a woman
who will forgive me.

Perhaps initially,
he believed that these

young widows and orphans
were good to him.

Yet each time
he transformed into the witch,

he tormented both himself and us,

the poor people,
revealing his dark past.

That's how the rumour went on.

Love is not a feeling that belongs
in this realm, it's a curse.

After the spark
of emotion perishes,

we come to realize that
our bond isn't rooted in feelings,

but rather our wounds.

Nevertheless, we should
embrace these wounds,

for only the wounds could
reveal the truth amidst falsehoods.

Yet on one condition...

We must have
the courage to talk to them.