The Night of the Hollow Hunt

Chapter Six: Reflections of Fear

The dim light in the motel room flickered as Antonio stared at Fawkes, his words echoing in his mind. The mirror... it shows what's real. What's hidden. Fawkes's voice had been weak, but the urgency in his eyes was unmistakable. If the mirror in the house held the key to understanding the horrors they were facing, it meant only one thing—they had to go back.

"We can't seriously be thinking about going back there," Jaxon said, his voice trembling with fear. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes darting toward the door as if he expected the creature to burst in at any moment.

Wren sat beside Fawkes on the bed, her expression grim but resolute. "If the mirror can show us what's really happening, we don't have a choice."

Jaxon shook his head violently, his breath coming in short gasps. "No. No way. That thing is out there waiting for us. We barely made it out alive, and now you want to walk right back in? You're insane!"

Antonio knew Jaxon's fear was justified. Every part of his body screamed to run as far away from the house as possible, but something inside him knew they couldn't escape it. Whatever darkness had followed them had roots in that house, and it wouldn't let them go until it was finished. Until they faced it.

"We can't outrun this, Jaxon," Antonio said quietly. "No matter where we go, it'll find us. It's not just the house anymore—it's the thing that came out of it."

Wren glanced at Antonio, her jaw clenched. "We need to understand what's hunting us. And Fawkes seems to think that mirror can show us the truth. If we don't figure this out, we're going to end up just like him."

Jaxon looked at Fawkes, whose breathing was shallow and ragged. His face was slick with sweat, his skin pale and clammy. Jaxon's hands shook as he wiped his face. "But what if it's a trap? What if the mirror is just another trick, another way to lure us back?"

Antonio didn't have an answer. The house had already twisted their perception of reality, and it was entirely possible that the mirror was part of that. But the alternative—running without knowing what they were up against—seemed even more dangerous. And time was running out.

"We don't have a choice," Antonio finally said, his voice steady. "If the mirror is the only way to understand this, then we need to go back. Otherwise, we'll never stop it."

Wren nodded, her face pale but determined. "We need to end this."

Jaxon exhaled shakily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. But if this goes sideways..."

"It won't," Antonio interrupted, though he wasn't sure he believed his own words. "We'll figure this out."

They moved quickly, knowing that staying still was more dangerous than facing what was ahead. Antonio helped Wren adjust Fawkes on the bed, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. His breathing remained shallow, his condition deteriorating with each passing minute.

"You're going to be okay," Wren whispered, brushing Fawkes's damp hair from his forehead. "We'll fix this."

Fawkes didn't respond, his body limp and unresponsive. Antonio's stomach twisted with dread. They were running out of time, and they had no guarantee that returning to the house would save him. But it was the only option they had left.

Antonio grabbed the motel room key and tossed it onto the bed. "We'll come back for you," he whispered to Fawkes, though part of him feared there might not be a way back.

Wren and Jaxon stood by the door, the weight of the decision they'd made heavy in the air. Antonio took one last glance at Fawkes before stepping out into the night, the oppressive silence of the streets closing in around them.