The hollow ones

Chapter 15: No Way Out

Malcolm pulled Ellie forward, his grip firm but not panicked. Not yet.

Sam was already ahead, practically sprinting down the hallway. "We should've left the second we got here," he muttered. "Blackwood's dead, his house is haunted, and now the mirrors are watching us—"

A low groan echoed through the manor.

All three of them froze.

Ellie's pulse spiked. That sound—not wood creaking. Not the house settling.

Something alive.

Malcolm's jaw clenched. "Move."

They ran.

Down the winding corridors, past old portraits and dusty furniture. Ellie's body still ached from her time in the Hollow, but she forced herself forward.

They reached the main doors.

Malcolm yanked on the handle.

Locked.

"What?!" Sam yelped. "We didn't lock it!"

Malcolm growled, trying again. The heavy wooden doors wouldn't budge.

Ellie's stomach turned. "The house—"

It wasn't letting them leave.

The House Awakens

The lights flickered. The temperature dropped.

A whisper curled through the air, slithering against Ellie's skin.

"You are still ours."

A mirror on the far wall shattered.

Ellie barely had time to react before something crawled from the broken glass.

A hand.

Thin. Twisted. Fingers too long, skin as black as the Hollow.

Sam screamed.

Malcolm drew his knife.

Ellie stumbled back as the creature pulled itself free.

It had no face—just a smooth void where features should be. Its head twitched unnaturally, its body flickering between solid and shadow.

Then—it lunged.

Malcolm slashed, his blade carving through its arm—

But the wound sealed instantly.

Ellie reacted without thinking.

She raised her hand—the one marked by the Hollow.

The creature froze.

A moment of stillness—before it twisted toward her.

Ellie's breath caught.

It wasn't attacking.

It was waiting.

For her.

The realization chilled her to the core.

Malcolm grabbed her arm. "Ellie—"

But before he could pull her away, the creature moved.

Not toward her—toward Sam.

Sam barely had time to dodge as the thing swiped at him, its fingers passing through the air like smoke, then turning solid at the last second.

Malcolm cursed, slashing at it again.

Ellie's mind raced.

The Hollow's mark—the creature had responded to it.

Could she stop it? Control it?

The whispers in her head grew louder.

"Command it."

No.

Ellie clenched her jaw. No.

Instead, she lunged forward.

She placed her marked hand on the creature's chest—

And pushed.

A shockwave of Hollow energy erupted from her palm.

The creature screeched, its form ripping apart, collapsing into shadows.

Ellie staggered back.

Sam panted, eyes wide. "Did you just—"

Ellie stared at her hand.

Her veins had turned even darker.

Malcolm swallowed hard. "We need to get out. Now."

Ellie agreed.

But as she turned back toward the door, the air behind her shimmered.

A voice whispered in her ear.

"You are beginning to understand."

Ellie's blood ran cold.

---

No Escape

Ellie's breath hitched.

The whisper curled around her, more felt than heard. It sank beneath her skin, twining into her thoughts, threading into the very marrow of her bones.

"You are beginning to understand."

Her fingers twitched. The dark veins along her arm pulsed in response.

"Ellie!"

Malcolm's voice snapped her back.

She turned—just as he yanked open a side door.

"It's not locked?" Sam stammered.

Malcolm shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We're leaving—now."

Ellie hesitated, one last glance at the shattered mirror. The Hollow's presence lingered, a cold hand at the back of her neck.

"Not yet."

She shook it off. Not now.

They bolted.

The House Fights Back

The hallway beyond the door stretched too long, the walls warping as if the house itself was shifting.

Sam skidded to a stop. "Guys—"

The corridor was closing in.

The far end collapsed inward, shadows rushing toward them like a living tide.

Ellie grabbed Sam's arm, dragging him forward. "RUN!"

They sprinted—racing against the darkness as it swallowed the walls behind them.

Ellie's pulse pounded. The house was alive.

No—not alive. Possessed.

The Hollow was in it.

Malcolm reached a door and slammed into it. Locked.

"Dammit—"

Ellie shoved him aside.

The mark on her arm burned.

She didn't think—just acted.

Her palm pressed against the wood—and the door shattered open.

Sam gawked. "Okaaay, that was new."

Ellie barely heard him.

Because beyond the broken door was—

A mirror.

A massive, floor-length mirror, standing alone in the empty room.

And inside it—

A reflection.

But not of them.

Ellie's breath caught.

It was Blackwood.

The Last Warning

The old man stood in the mirror's depths, his face pale and stretched. His mouth moved, but the words came from all around them—a ghostly, warped echo.

"You should not have returned."

Malcolm stiffened. "Blackwood?"

The reflection's eyes—silver.

Not Blackwood.

Not anymore.

Ellie swallowed hard. "What do you mean, returned? We never wanted to be here."

The mirror shuddered.

"You opened the way. You let it in."

Ellie's chest tightened. "Let what in?"

The whispering grew.

"The Hollow has claimed you, child."

Blackwood's image flickered. Twisted. His face stretched into something inhuman.

Then—

The mirror cracked.

A single fracture.

Then another.

Then—

SHATTER.

Darkness rushed forward.

Ellie screamed.

The last thing she saw—

Was Blackwood's silver eyes staring straight through her.

And then—

Everything went black.

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