The Night of the Hollow Hunt

Chapter Five: The Mirror's Lie

Antonio stood frozen, his mind struggling to process the horror in front of him. Two versions of Fawkes—one lying unconscious on the floor, the other standing tall, grinning with an eerie sense of satisfaction. The fog curled around their feet, thick and suffocating, as if the house itself was closing in on them.

The second Fawkes took another step forward, his smile widening as his eyes locked onto Antonio. The voice that came from his mouth was a twisted reflection of Fawkes's usual tone—deeper, more distorted, like a broken echo. "You can't save him. You can't save any of them."

Wren shot a glance at Antonio, her face pale with fear. "What the hell is this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "How can there be two of him?"

Antonio's heart pounded in his chest as he took a step back, his body tense and ready to flee. The weight of the situation crashed down on him—this wasn't just a trick of the house. This was something far more sinister, something that had taken on the shape of their friend.

"We need to get out of here," Antonio muttered, his voice tight with fear. "Now."

The creature wearing Fawkes's face let out a low, mocking chuckle. "You're not going anywhere. Not without me."

Antonio's hands trembled as he grabbed Wren by the arm, his eyes never leaving the doppelgänger. "Grab Fawkes," he whispered urgently. "We have to move."

Wren nodded, her face set in determination despite the terror in her eyes. She knelt down beside the real Fawkes and slipped her arms under his shoulders, struggling to lift him as Jaxon stepped in to help. Together, they managed to drag Fawkes toward the door, his limp body weighing them down with every step.

Antonio kept his gaze fixed on the creature, his mind racing as it began to advance on them, each step slow and deliberate. There was something unnatural in the way it moved, as though it was barely tethered to the physical world. The air around it seemed to warp and distort, like heat rising off asphalt.

"You can't leave," the creature said softly, its voice smooth and coaxing now. "Not without paying the price."

"Shut up," Antonio growled, his fear giving way to anger as he stepped toward the door. "We're leaving."

The creature tilted its head slightly, its smile fading into something colder, more calculating. "You really think you can escape me?" it hissed, its eyes flashing with malice. "This house doesn't let people go so easily."

Antonio's heart raced as he stepped through the doorway, Wren and Jaxon following close behind with Fawkes's unconscious body between them. The hallway was thick with fog, the whispers growing louder, like a chant echoing from the very walls. Every shadow seemed to move, twisting and writhing in the corners of his vision.

But Antonio didn't stop. He couldn't. They had to get out.

The creature followed them, its footsteps light and barely audible against the floorboards. "You can run," it said, its voice taunting. "But you'll never make it. This house will never let you leave."

Antonio ignored the words, focusing on the stairs ahead. The staircase loomed before them, the old wood creaking ominously as they descended. Every step felt like a struggle, as if the house itself was pulling them down, trying to drag them back into the nightmare.

"We're almost there," Wren panted, her arms shaking under the weight of Fawkes. "Just a little farther."

But the creature wasn't far behind. Antonio could feel its presence, cold and malicious, like a shadow creeping up on them. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the thing that looked like Fawkes standing at the top of the stairs, watching them with a smile that didn't reach its eyes.