The Hollow Beneath

The light from the altar died.

Hazel's body stilled, but her eyes remained open—void of iris, consumed by a milky, unnatural white. Her mouth moved, though her voice had vanished. Only silence escaped her lips.

Until the floor responded.

Cracks split the bone beneath the altar.

The Bonekeeper stepped back quickly. "She's crossed the Veil."

Evelyn reached for her sister. "Hazel—Hazel, come back to me!"

"She can't hear you now," the Bonekeeper warned. "She's walking the Hollow Beneath."

Silas stood guard, his claws extended, eyes flicking toward every shift of bone. "What is that?"

"A world buried under this one. A prison made of memory. And she's the only one who can survive long enough to see the thing buried there."

Inside the vision, Hazel was falling.

She tumbled through darkness, but it was soft. Familiar. Like the womb of the forest. Whispers coiled around her, brushing against her skin with chilling intimacy.

She landed in silence.

No light.

No air.

Just the slow, steady sound of breathing.

But it wasn't hers.

A glow bloomed behind her, faint and deep crimson, lighting the curve of a vast underground cathedral. Roots dangled from the ceiling, wet and twitching. The ground pulsed with warmth—alive, sentient.

Shapes formed in the shadows.

A throne of antlers.

Bones tied together like rope.

And in the center, it slept.

Not a beast.

Not a man.

Something between.

Its skin was blackened bark, split by glowing veins. Horns curved like spines from its head. Around its wrists, thick runes burned into chains.

When Hazel stepped closer, its eyes opened.

No pupils. No color. Just void.

A voice entered her mind like thunder wrapped in silk:

"You bleed with my mark."

She couldn't respond. Couldn't run.

The chained creature tilted its head. "They locked me below so he could rise above. The King drank my hunger… but you, little seed—you are mine."

In the real world, Hazel's body thrashed on the altar.

Evelyn screamed. "She's dying!"

The Bonekeeper knelt, drawing symbols across Hazel's chest. "No. She's meeting Him. The one the King fears."

Silas grabbed Evelyn's hand. "What if she can't come back?"

"She has to," Evelyn said, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I already lost her once."

Inside the Hollow Beneath, Hazel reached out—hand trembling.

And the creature smiled.

"When the Black Moon rises… the roots will crawl from every grave. And you will open the door."

The forest above shuddered.

The Hollow was awakening.

And Hazel was now its harbinger.

---