Johnny_Sensei

Hollow Crown of the Dying Star


The night Ren's mother died, the sky cracked open.

No one else saw it—just him. A fracture in the stars, spreading like shattered glass. And from that abyss, something looked back.

Then it spoke.

"Do you want to live?"

Now, Ren is no longer human. His reflection moves on its own. His eyes are black voids, writhing with unseen horrors. And the world around him is wrong—people stand frozen in the streets, their hollow smiles stretching too wide, whispering things that don’t belong in human mouths.

They are watching him.

Hunting him.

And the worst part?

A voice in his head keeps whispering that he belongs with them.

As Ren searches for answers, he’s forced into a brutal battle for survival against creatures that were once human—and something far worse lurking beyond the cracks in the sky. But the more he fights, the more he changes.

Is he still himself?

Or is he becoming the very thing he fears?


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Hollow Crown of the Dying Star

Whatever that thing was, it had reached inside me. I felt it taking something—something deep. Not flesh. Not bone. Something else.

Now, it was gone. But I wasn't whole anymore.

I pressed a shaking hand to my chest. My heartbeat was still there, sluggish and weak. But… wrong.

I could feel the empty space inside me. A hollow wound where something important used to be.

The man—my so-called savior—was watching me. His expression unreadable. He hadn't said a word since the thing vanished.

The room was dark. Dust choked the air. The walls looked melted, as if reality itself had warped and burned away.

Slowly. Subtly. They twisted along the walls like something alive. Like something watching.

A whisper skittered along my skull.

My breath hitched. "Did you hear that?"

I forced myself to my feet, my legs shaking. The air felt thicker, pressing against me, inside me. The darkness shifted, stretched—

Not the thing from before. Something worse.

The whisper returned, crawling behind my ears.

But warped, distorted, spoken through teeth that weren't mine anymore.

I staggered away from the sound, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. My own voice—but not mine.

Fingers too long, too thin clawed at my ankle, pulling me down. I kicked, struggling, but the grip was like iron.

The shadows rose, shifting, twisting, forming a shape.

Pale. Hollow-eyed. A gaping hole in its chest where its heart should be. Where my heart should be.

I couldn't remember what I had lost.

I tried to picture my mother's face. My father's voice. My own name, spoken in a way that felt human.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, my skin clammy and cold.

The thing with my face watched me struggle.

Its voice slithered into my skull, soft and sickly sweet.

A splintering. A tearing. Like something peeling away the last pieces of myself.

Because I couldn't remember who I was fighting for anymore.

I don't know how long I stood there, shaking. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.

The man stepped inside, his gaze sharp, wary. "It's time to go."

The thing inside me that wasn't me anymore.

Chapter 4: What Remains of Me