Chapter 8: Into the Hollow
The village had never felt so alien to Evelyn. Each step she took through the narrow, winding streets felt as though she was trespassing on something ancient—something that resented her presence. The whispers had not subsided since the night in the basement, and now they followed her wherever she went, their voices like an invisible current in the air, tugging at her thoughts.
It was early morning, but the sky remained a dull gray, a thick fog rolling in from the forest that bordered the village. Evelyn wrapped her coat tighter around her, but the cold seemed to seep into her bones, deep and unrelenting. Her mind raced, turning over the letter she had found in the basement. Her mother’s words echoed in her head, each one a warning she couldn’t ignore. The Hollow. Beneath the crypt. The portal.
She knew what she had to do. The Hollow was not just a place—it was a symbol, a key to the dark secrets that had been buried in this village for generations. Her mother’s cryptic message had made that clear. But what was the truth that lay hidden there? And what price would Evelyn have to pay for uncovering it?
As she reached the edge of the village, the fog grew thicker, and the path that led into the forest became less distinct. She paused for a moment, her breath misting in the air. There, in the distance, she could see the outline of the crypt, its looming presence like a shadow that stretched across the land. It stood atop a hill, isolated and alone, as though it had always been waiting for her.
The whispers were louder now, their words clearer. They were urging her forward, goading her to continue the journey, but Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that they were not just voices from the past. There was something else in the air, something darker, something that didn’t want her to find the truth. And yet, she had no choice but to move forward.
With a deep breath, she stepped onto the narrow path that wound through the forest. The trees, gnarled and twisted, seemed to close in around her, their branches reaching out like hands, as though trying to stop her from going any further. But Evelyn pressed on, the weight of her mother’s letter heavy in her pocket. The fog thickened, and the world around her seemed to fade into a haze of gray and shadow.
It wasn’t long before the trees began to thin, and Evelyn emerged into a clearing. The crypt stood before her, its ancient stone walls weathered by time but still imposing. The entrance was a large, arched doorway, shrouded in darkness. The ground around the crypt was marked with symbols, worn but still visible, etched into the earth as though to ward off any who dared to approach. Evelyn hesitated for a moment, her pulse quickening. Every instinct in her screamed that this was wrong, that she should turn back, but her feet moved on their own accord, pulling her closer to the entrance.
As she stepped across the threshold, the temperature seemed to drop even further. A cold, unnatural chill filled the air, seeping into her skin and making her teeth ache. The inside of the crypt was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the symbols etched into the walls. Evelyn’s breath echoed in the silence, her every step reverberating through the stone chamber. There was an unsettling stillness here, as though the very air was holding its breath.
The whispers were deafening now, swirling around her, pulling at her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block them out, but they were relentless. The words were becoming clearer, more distinct, like voices calling out to her from the depths of the earth.
“Evelyn…”
Her eyes snapped open, and she looked toward the center of the room. There, in the darkness, a figure appeared. It was a woman, but not like any woman Evelyn had ever seen. She was pale, almost ghostly, her features blurred and indistinct. Her hair was long and black, falling in waves around her shoulders, but her eyes—those eyes were the only thing that Evelyn could make out clearly. They were dark, empty, like two endless pits staring into her soul.
The figure stepped forward, her feet barely touching the ground, as though she was floating rather than walking. Evelyn could feel the presence of the figure pressing against her chest, like a weight she could barely bear.
“You shouldn’t have come,” the figure whispered, her voice a soft, mournful sound that sent chills down Evelyn’s spine. “The Hollow is not a place for the living. It is a prison, a cage for those who sought to escape the truth.”
Evelyn’s heart raced, her mind struggling to make sense of the apparition before her. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice shaky but firm. “What is this place?”
The figure’s lips curled into a sad, knowing smile. “I was once like you, Evelyn. I sought the truth, and I found it—too late.” She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Evelyn’s face. “The Hollow is a place of forgotten memories, a place where the sins of the past are buried. The curse of this village is tied to it, and the truth you seek will destroy you if you are not careful.”
Evelyn took a step back, her mind reeling. “What do you mean?”
The figure raised a hand, and Evelyn felt a sudden shift in the air. The ground beneath her feet trembled, and the whispers grew louder, more frantic. The walls of the crypt seemed to close in around her, pressing down like a suffocating weight. She could hear the faint sound of chanting now, coming from all directions. It was as though the very crypt itself was alive, calling out to her, pulling her deeper into its grip.
“The truth you seek has already claimed countless lives,” the figure continued, her voice becoming more urgent. “You are not the first to try to unlock the secrets of the Hollow, and you won’t be the last. But be warned, Evelyn—you cannot escape what is coming. The past will not let you go.”
Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest, but she could not turn away. She had to know the truth. She had to understand what had happened in this village, what had happened to her mother, and why the whispers had chosen her.
With one final, determined step, she moved forward, toward the center of the crypt. The figure reached out, but Evelyn brushed past her, her resolve unshaken.
The Hollow was waiting.
