The Hollow (Part 2)

The Hollow Reawakens

It had been years since anyone dared to set foot in The Maw of Mourn. The forest had been silent for as long as anyone could remember, its darkness still and dormant, as though it were waiting for something-or someone.

But that silence had begun to crack.

It started with the animals. At first, it was small things-rabbits, birds, and deer, whose movements had become more erratic. The hunters in the village noticed a change. Where once the forest was teeming with life, now there were only fleeting shadows, the occasional rustle in the bushes. Even the river that ran beside the woods had slowed, its waters growing dark, almost stagnant. The life of the land seemed to be... pulling away.

It wasn't until the earth itself began to shift that people started to take notice.

Maggie was one of the first to hear the whispers. She'd grown up hearing the stories, of course. Her father had always warned her not to go too close to The Maw, even as a child, but now, in the quiet of her late twenties, the warnings felt like ancient, outdated caution. It had been a decade since the last person had disappeared-no one really believed it could happen again. The village had moved on.

Still, something had been gnawing at her. An unease that crept into her bones. One afternoon, as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, she heard it-the faintest rustle of leaves behind her. When she turned, there was nothing, just the usual shadows creeping across the edge of the woods.

The next day, more whispers.

This time, they weren't the soft, passing breeze she'd grown used to hearing on windy days. No, this was different. The whispers were louder now, insistent. They were coming from the forest.

Come back to us...

Maggie could feel the tug, a deep, heavy pull at the core of her being. She shook her head and hurried back to her cabin, but the feeling lingered, thick like fog.

That night, the earth trembled.

At first, it was just a slight vibration, nothing more than a tremor that rattled the windows of Hollowbrook. But it didn't stop. It grew. The ground shook harder, and the earth seemed to groan in a way that was unnatural, as though it were awakening from a deep, long slumber.

People flooded into the streets, unsure what was happening. By then, the sky had darkened, and the wind began to howl. It was then that the trees at the edge of The Maw shifted, their branches cracking, their trunks creaking with a sound that echoed through the entire village.

The villagers gathered at the edge of the forest, staring in horror as the dark trees bent toward the town like fingers reaching for prey. The ground around the forest began to bulge and writhe, as if something below the surface were alive, moving.

Then they saw it.

A thin, winding trail of smoke rose from the depths of the woods, curling upward into the sky, thick and black like oil. The trees parted, and at their heart, something ancient stirred. A figure, draped in shadows, stood at the center of the clearing, a silhouette against the smoke. It was tall-too tall-its limbs impossibly long, stretching into the darkness. The figure didn't move, but it was there, watching them.

The whispers grew louder.

You should not have left... You should not have forgotten...

A man named Ezra, the village elder, stepped forward, his face pale as he looked toward the distant figure. "It's coming," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "The Hollow is waking."

The villagers didn't understand what he meant. But Maggie did.

The Maw of Mourn wasn't just a forest. It was a prison, holding something down, something that had been dormant for far too long. And now, it was stirring.

The earth trembled again, this time harder. The trees groaned and cracked, their roots pulling from the earth, revealing dark, cavernous holes beneath. The whispers grew into voices-more than one now, speaking as one.

We have waited. We have hungered. You are the first. But you will not be the last.

Maggie stepped forward, her feet moving on their own. She was drawn to it, pulled by an unseen force. She could feel the darkness in her bones, a weight pressing against her, urging her closer.

Suddenly, Ezra grabbed her arm, his grip tight and desperate. "Don't go," he pleaded, his face stricken with fear. "We cannot let it out. We cannot."

But Maggie wasn't listening. She was already walking toward the edge of the forest, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind screamed at her to turn back, but she couldn't. She had to see it. She had to know.

As she stepped into the forest, the world around her changed. The trees closed in behind her, the wind dying to a hushed whisper. The sky above was thick with a swirling, unnatural darkness, and the air felt heavy with the weight of ancient eyes watching. Her breath was shallow, her legs trembling, but still, she moved forward.

And then she saw it.

In the center of the clearing, where the stone altar had once been, there was now a hole-a massive pit, a black maw that seemed to stretch infinitely downward. From it, a pulse of energy rippled outward, sending waves of cold through the forest. At the edge of the pit stood a figure-shadowed, tall, and impossibly thin. The figure looked at her, and for the first time, Maggie felt true fear.

You have come. It is time.

The voice was not spoken aloud. It was inside her head, deep and terrifying. The figure reached out, long fingers that stretched toward her, beckoning her closer.

In that moment, Maggie understood. The Maw of Mourn wasn't just a forest. It was a gateway. A gateway to something much older, much darker. And it was opening again.

And all she had to do was step closer.

As the whispers called to her, the ground trembled again, and the world seemed to tilt. She could hear the village in the distance, the cries of the people who would never understand what she had discovered.

And in that moment, Maggie knew-The Hollow was not done with them. It was just beginning.