Arne shock a bit on the containers the girl’s blood was in. A bit thicker than an average pen maybe. Trond gave him the signal to stop with that. He was tired in his head, wanted piece. Soon they were probably to let her free or something, he hoped. She was most definitely not to ley there and cry for the rest of her life.
“So, How does this work then?” Arne asked. Trond snorted:
“I don’t know.”
“You do not?” Arne ley the glass pipes down carefully and continued:
“But you work at the hospital.”

Når Oskar våknet la han merke til at pleddene ikke var over dem som det var når de sovnet. Han snudde seg for å se om Eli var våken, noe han sikkert var. Han reiste seg fort opp når han så at Eli ikke var der. Oskar begynte å smile:
"Hvor kan Eli være nå da!" Ropte han. Ikke en lyd. Han sto opp, så seg rundt i kupeen.
"Eli!?" Han listet seg til den store kofferten. Åpnet den fort mens han sa:
"Tok deg!" Men ingen var der.

When Oskar awaked he noticed that the blankets weren’t over them like they were when he fell asleep. He turned around to see if Eli was awake, something he probably was. He sat up fast when he saw that Eli wasn’t there. Oskar started smiling.
“Where can Eli be now?” He yelled. Not a sound, he stood up, looked around himself in the cabin.
“Eli?” He tiptoed to the big trunk, opened it fast while he said:
“Got ya!” But nobody was there.

Ultimately, Jason was the hard-sell. But Eli knew that would be the case. After all, Jason was an adult now. And Hannah was, above all, his little sister. They continued down the beach in a heated debate.

“I don’t like it Hannah. You’d be violating Mom’s trust.”

“But Mom’s wrong, Jason! You know that! And this is too important.”

“I’m not sure how important it is, Hannah. We got along just fine without your ability before now.”

“Except Eli would be dead if I didn’t have it. And Oskar wouldn’t have been kidnapped if I had it then.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Eli?” They sat together on her window seat, Eli in Oskar’s lap, holding tightly to his arms, making sure they were still holding her close.

“Because I didn’t remember – until yesterday.”

“Was it real? Or just a nightmare?”

“Real. It was real – I…I think.” She shuddered.

“But…how did you get away from him? It would have been impossible.”

“Yes.”

“Then how…”

“I could show you, Oskar, but…”

“No!” He kissed her on the cheek.

“Then I should tell you. You should know, so you’ll understand.”

“I don’t need to understand, Eli.”

November 10, 2010
The Verdict

“Come on, Jason! What are you doing back there?” Eli sounded like her old self again. He breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to catch up.

“I was just worried…”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Jason. It’s just fog. And I guess I was just acting like a girl. It happens every now and then no matter how hard I try…”

“What’s wrong with being a girl?!”

“For you, nothing, Hannah. For me…it’s still hard to get used to sometimes. Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

This is the Swedish original. If you don't read Swedish, there is an English translation as well.

Jag har bifogat en PDF-version, vilken jag menar ger en bättre läsupplevelse.

Detta stycke fan fiction utgår från John Ajvide Lindqvists roman Låt den rätte komma in. Element som hämtats från romanen är hans verk, emellertid ska han på inget sätt hållas ansvarig för nedanstående text.

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Oskar rotade i väskan bland kläder och annat han hade där. Saken han letade efter låg längst ner som vanligt. Han tog upp den och höll den framför sig, såg på den. Kniven, med stort K, det var så han alltid tänkte på den. Han tog fram den ibland, som nu, men bara för att titta på den, minnas. Han använde den aldrig.

This is the English translation of the Swedish original. If you read Swedish, I recommend the original.

I've attached a PDF version, which I think gives a better reading experience.

This piece of fan fiction is based on John Ajvide Lindqvist’s novel Låt den rätte komma in. Features that have been fetched from the novel are his work; however, he is in no way to be held responsible for the work below.

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Oskar rummaged in his bag among clothes and other things he had there. The thing he was looking for was at the bottom, as usual. He picked it up and held it before him, looked at it. The Knife, with a capital K, that was how he always thought of it. He would get it up sometimes, like now, but just to watch it, remember. He never used it.

Marshall-Shadeland, Pittsburgh, PA.
January 4th, 1984.

1:12pm

The tape recorder Play button locked into the down position with a firm click. Instantly the speakers came to life and the tape reels started to move. The unit was capable of playing good quality stereo however this recording was low quality mono. The voice of a sprite young girl burst from the speakers, and Agent Alvirez adjusted the volume as she spoke.