the hollow remains

Ikenna stared at his hand.

The moonlight bathed his skin in silver, but something was wrong. There was no shadow. Not from his hand, not from his body. The fire nearby flickered, casting clear outlines of Maya and Samuel.

But not him.

"Ikenna," Samuel said carefully. "Move into the light again."

He did.

Still nothing.

"I saw it die," Ikenna whispered. "The Hollow God. It collapsed. I saw it vanish."

Samuel shook his head slowly. "It didn't vanish. It chose."

Maya groaned softly beside them. She sat up, her skin pale and bruised, eyes haunted. "It's not dead. You cut its food source. You cut me off. That doesn't kill it."

"Then what happens?" Ikenna asked.

She looked at him, and for a second, her eyes looked like the stone ones from the fountain statue.

> "It finds someone else."

The woods were silent, save for the crackle of their makeshift fire. It had taken hours to crawl out of the forest, find dry wood, and make something resembling safety.

But there was no warmth in the flames.

Maya pulled her knees to her chest. "It was never about Ember Hollow. The town was just a cage. The real thing, the creature, it's older. Older than language. It doesn't need a place—it needs a mind. And yours was open."

"Why me?" Ikenna asked.

"You stayed," she said. "Even when the fear clawed at you. Even when the town begged you to leave. You didn't run."

"I came back for you."

"I know," she said. "That's why it likes you."

A sudden wind passed through the forest.

The flames in their fire bowed, like something had just walked by.

Samuel stood quickly. "We can't stay here. We need to find real people. Civilization. Phones. Help."

But the forest didn't seem to agree.

The trees shifted. They groaned. And slowly, a trail of ash appeared on the ground leading eastward.

A path.

But one no one had made.

Ikenna rose slowly. "It's not done with us."

"Maybe not," Samuel said. "But we're done with it."

Maya pointed to the path. "That goes toward the mines."

"The mines?" Samuel echoed. "You're sure?"

"I can feel it," she whispered. "Something's waiting there."

They stared down the ash path.

In the distance, something moved between the trees. A tall, thin silhouette—shifting just out of view. It didn't walk.

It floated.

Maya looked at Ikenna again. "You're still connected to it. That's why you don't have a shadow. Part of you is in its world now."

"How do I cut it off?"

She said nothing.

Samuel looked between them. "You think this is the only Hollow? This was one town. What if there are others? What if there are more of these things?"

The thought hung in the air like smoke.

Then—a scream.

Far off.

High and sharp. A woman's voice.

Real.

Alive.

"Someone else is out there," Samuel said.

Ikenna's heart pounded. "It's bait."

"Or it's someone who needs help."

He didn't wait.

He ran.

The forest warped as he moved—trees stretching taller than they should, branches reaching like claws. The path of ash narrowed, and behind him, he could hear Maya and Samuel calling his name.

Then silence.

He was alone.

He stumbled into a clearing.

And saw her.

A woman—dressed in 1920s clothes, soaked in blood, standing perfectly still. Her mouth was open, but no sound came out. Her eyes were gone—two hollow sockets weeping ash.

Ikenna stepped back.

She lifted one hand and pointed behind him.

He turned.

And saw a mirror—tall, cracked, freestanding in the middle of the woods.

In its reflection, Ember Hollow was still standing.

The school.

The fountain.

The statue.

And behind him, his own reflection waved.

But it didn't match his movement.

Ikenna froze.

The reflection smiled.

And stepped out of the mirror.

It was him—but darker. Hollow eyes. No lips. Its body flickered like film from a broken projector.

He backed away. "No… no no no…"

The Hollow-Ikenna reached toward him, fingers like needles, whispering his thoughts back to him:

> "She was always the reason. You always wanted to be the hero. Let me finish what you started…"

He raised the dagger—still stained with Maya's blood.

The creature hissed.

Then someone tackled it from the side—Samuel, roaring, slamming into the double and knocking it into the mirror.

The glass shattered.

The reflection screamed and disintegrated, becoming smoke that crawled back into the trees.

Ikenna fell to his knees, shaking.

"You okay?" Samuel asked.

Ikenna nodded slowly. "I saw… I saw a version of me that wasn't me. Like it had copied me. It wants me to give in."

"That's what it does," Maya said as she stepped into the clearing, her voice flat. "It breaks you down. It knows what scares you. And it makes it real."

Samuel looked at the remains of the mirror. "So what now?"

Ikenna stood.

He looked back toward the ash path.

"We follow it."

"You're sure?" Samuel asked. "That's walking straight into its lair."

"I'm not afraid anymore," Ikenna said. "It chose me? Fine. Let's see what it really wants."

The trees shuddered.

And the heartbeat returned.

Thump… thump… thump…

Very faint now, but not gone.

Maya nodded. "The Hollow might have fallen. But its heart is still beating."

They walked into the dark.

And Ember Hollow breathed again.