Chapter Three: The Hollow’s Secret
Evelyn stood frozen, her hand still resting on the cold, splintered doorframe. The mirror in front of her rippled like water, and the figure of the woman in the reflection beckoned her closer. Her fingers trembled as she stared into the depths of the mirror, where the shadows stretched further than seemed possible.
It wasn’t just a reflection anymore. It was a doorway. A dark, suffocating passage that seemed to reach out for her, pulling her in.
“Come closer.”
The voice called to her again, but this time it wasn’t just an echo in her mind—it was a real voice, soft and insistent, tugging at her very soul.
Evelyn knew she should turn away. She should run. But every inch of her body betrayed her, pulling her toward the mirror. Something in the depths of her, a primal urge she couldn’t explain, whispered that she needed to understand, that this—this darkness—was a part of her.
With one last hesitant glance behind her, she stepped forward, drawn as though by an invisible force. The air around her thickened with a sense of inevitability, as though everything—every moment—had led her to this singular point in time.
As her fingers brushed against the mirror’s surface, a sharp pain shot through her chest, and she recoiled instinctively. Her breath quickened, but the voice, now low and soothing, came once more.
“It won’t hurt. Come to me.”
The pain had not been physical—it had been something far deeper, something that had pressed against her very soul. She had felt it before, when she had first stepped into Ravenshade, but now it was more powerful, more insistent.
Evelyn’s body trembled, but the pull of the mirror, the woman within, was too strong to resist.
Her hand, shaking uncontrollably, reached forward again. This time, as her fingers made contact with the surface, the mirror shuddered violently, and she felt herself being sucked inward.
The world around her began to distort, twisting like a whirlpool pulling her into its depths. The air was thick with the scent of decay, the ground beneath her feet soft and unstable. She felt the presence of something ancient, something that had waited for her in the shadows, hiding in the folds of Ravenshade for so long.
For the briefest moment, she wanted to scream, to fight the pull. But it was too late.
The world went dark.
When Evelyn opened her eyes, the scene before her was not the dimly lit room of the mansion. Instead, she found herself standing on the edge of a vast, endless wasteland. The ground beneath her feet was cracked and desolate, as though no living thing had ever touched it. The air was heavy with the weight of forgotten memories, and the sky overhead was a dull, lifeless gray.
She spun around, her heart pounding in her chest, but there was nothing. Nothing except the vast emptiness.
The only sound that filled the silence was the echo of her own breathing, and something else. A distant whisper, a voice that she couldn’t quite make out, coming from somewhere deep within the expanse.
“You should not have come.”
Evelyn froze. The voice was unmistakable—it was the same voice that had been calling to her from the mirror. The same voice that had coaxed her into this place. But now, it sounded different. Darker. Full of sorrow and ancient rage.
The ground beneath her feet trembled, and a figure began to emerge from the horizon. Slowly, painfully, it took shape, drawing nearer with each passing moment. A woman. Her face was gaunt, hollowed, her long black hair wild and tangled, hanging over her face like a veil.
The woman’s eyes, when they finally met Evelyn’s gaze, were empty, black voids, consuming everything they touched.
“You’ve found me. And now you’ll join me.”
Evelyn stepped back, her heart racing. She had to escape. She had to get out of here. But the woman was already closing the distance between them, her movements slow and deliberate, as though she had all the time in the world.
“No,” Evelyn whispered to herself, shaking her head. She couldn’t be here. This place—this wasteland—it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. The voice, the figure—it was all a trick. She had to wake up. She had to—
The woman’s laughter broke through her thoughts, low and guttural, a sound that rattled the very air around her.
“There is no waking from this place, Evelyn. You are here now. And you will never leave.”
Panic surged through her, her body moving on instinct as she turned to flee. But the ground beneath her feet seemed to shift, pulling her back with every step she took. The vast emptiness around her closed in, its oppressive weight pushing her to the ground.
“I didn’t want this,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I didn’t want to be here. I just wanted to leave. I just wanted to—”
But the woman was upon her now, her hands reaching out to seize Evelyn’s arms, her touch cold and lifeless, like the embrace of death itself.
“You can never leave,” the woman whispered, her voice a death knell. “But you will join me. You will join the Hollow.”
And in that moment, as Evelyn felt the woman’s cold grip tighten around her, the world around her fractured. The empty wasteland, the woman—everything—began to unravel, tearing apart like fabric in the wind. The air around her swirled into darkness, and she felt herself falling—plunging, spiraling into nothingness.
Evelyn awoke with a start, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She was back in the mansion. The cold walls of Ravenshade surrounded her, and the mirror stood before her, still and lifeless.
But there was something different now.
The whispers. They were gone. The woman, the voice—everything was silent.
Yet Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. That she had crossed into a place that was neither living nor dead.
And in that silence, in the stillness of the room, she understood. The Hollow was not just a place—it was a curse. A curse that had waited for her. A curse that had drawn her here. And no matter how hard she tried to leave, it would follow her. It would always follow her.
“I’m sorry,” Evelyn whispered to the empty room, her voice shaking.
There was no answer.
But she knew, deep in her bones, that the Hollow was still there. Waiting. Watching.
And it would never let her go.
