Whispers of the Lost

Chapter 15 : The Whispering Madness

I stayed in the park long after Blaze had left, trying to pull myself back together. The wind whispered through the leaves, but each rustle sounded like a voice, like the Hollow speaking to me in its cruel, shadowy language. Cody sat beside me, his ears flicking nervously, picking up on my anxiety. He hadn't relaxed once since we left the house.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the pressure building behind my eyes. My head throbbed, a steady, painful reminder of how long I'd gone without real rest. The images from my nightmare still lingered at the edges of my mind, and the Warden's words replayed like a broken record.

Your memories. The moments that give you light. Offer them to the Hollow.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Not just wrong with the search for Emma, but wrong with me. The Hollow wasn't just an obsession—it was becoming my entire reality. The line between dream and waking had dissolved, and I was left floundering, grasping for something solid.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I forced myself to head home, though every step felt heavier than the last. The sky had darkened to a bruised indigo, and streetlights flickered to life, casting long shadows across the cracked sidewalks. Cody kept glancing back, as if something invisible was following us.

"Stop it," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "There's nothing there."

But I wasn't sure I believed it. Shadows seemed to dance at the edges of my vision, whispering secrets I couldn't understand. The world was twisting, and I felt like I was being swallowed, piece by piece.

By the time we reached the house, I was a shivering mess. I fumbled with my keys, the metal slipping in my sweaty grip, before finally pushing the door open. The warmth of home should have been comforting, but instead, it felt like a fragile illusion, one that could shatter at any moment.

Grandma Evelyn was in the living room, knitting in her usual spot by the fireplace. She glanced up as I entered, her brows knitting together in concern.

"Mia, you look awful," she said, setting her knitting needles down. "Have you eaten anything today?"

The question made me wince. The answer was no, but my stomach felt too tight and twisted to even think about food. "I'm fine," I lied. "Just... tired."

Her eyes softened, but I could see the worry in them, deepening with every passing day. "You're working yourself too hard," she said gently. "You need to rest. Emma wouldn't want you to suffer like this."

Emma. The sound of her name was a knife twisting in my gut. I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I can't rest," I whispered, the words barely more than a breath.

Grandma opened her mouth to say something, but I didn't wait to hear it. I stumbled up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and locked myself in my room. Cody followed me, circling on my bed before lying down, his eyes never leaving me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with silence. I sat at my desk, staring at the scattered papers and books. Maps, old journals, pages filled with my frantic scrawling about the Hollow. Strings of red thread connected various pieces of information, creating a web of obsession.

I pressed my hands to my face, trying to block it all out. But the shadows danced in the corners of the room, and I could still hear the Warden's voice, low and mocking.

"Mia..."

I jerked my head up, my heart slamming against my ribs. The room was empty. Of course it was empty. I was losing my mind.

A knock at my window made me jump so hard that I nearly fell out of my chair. I whipped around, and my breath caught in my throat. Blaze was standing outside, balancing precariously on the roof of the porch. He tapped on the glass again, smirking.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, yanking the window open. The cold night air rushed in, making me shiver.

Blaze shrugged, leaning against the window frame. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and his breath smelled faintly of alcohol. "Climbing roofs, apparently," he said, his voice a lazy drawl. "You seemed like you could use some company."

I stared at him, baffled. "You climbed onto my roof?"

He grinned, and it was the first real smile I'd seen from him. "What, you think you're the only one with problems? Besides, you looked like you were about to get eaten alive by your own thoughts."

I wanted to be angry, to tell him to leave, but instead, I found myself moving aside, letting him climb through the window. He landed with a quiet thud, then looked around my room, his eyes narrowing at the mess of papers and books.

"Wow," he said, eyebrows raised. "This is... intense."

I crossed my arms, defensive. "I'm trying to find my sister."

Blaze's gaze softened, but he didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he walked over to the desk, running his fingers over the strings of red thread. "You really believe in this... Hollow place?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," I said, the word bursting out of me. "And I think it's trying to take me too."

He turned, his stormy eyes locking onto mine. "Or maybe you're just driving yourself insane trying to solve something unsolvable."

The accusation stung, and I clenched my fists. "You don't understand. Emma's in there. I know she is."

Blaze tilted his head, studying me. "And what if you're wrong?" he asked, his voice soft. "What if you're chasing ghosts and letting them destroy you?"

The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, and I swore I saw something slither under my bed, just out of sight. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. "I can't let her go," I whispered. "I won't."

Blaze sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. I really do." He sank down onto the floor, leaning against the bed. "But if you keep going like this, you're not going to find her. You're just going to lose yourself."

The room fell silent, and I stared at him, my throat tight. He was right, and I hated it. But the fear, the obsession, was too deeply rooted to let go.

Cody whimpered, and I looked down at him. He was staring at the window, his hackles raised. My stomach twisted.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered.

Blaze frowned, turning his head. The wind howled outside, but underneath it, I thought I heard whispering. The same whispering I'd heard in my nightmare, echoing from the shadows.

"Mia..."

It was clearer now, chilling and relentless. The temperature in the room plummeted, and I could see my breath fogging in front of me. Blaze shot to his feet, eyes wide.

"What the hell—" he started, but the whisper cut him off.

"Mia... come back to the Hollow..."

My vision blurred, and I staggered, clutching my desk for support. The room twisted and warped, the walls pulsing like something alive. Shadows poured from the corners, writhing and spreading across the floor.

Cody barked, but his bark was muffled, like sound itself was being devoured. Blaze grabbed my arm, his grip tight and panicked.

"Mia, what's happening?" he shouted, but his voice was barely more than a whisper in the crushing darkness.

The shadows reached for me, cold and hungry. And I knew, deep in my soul, that the Hollow wasn't just a place.

It was here. And it wanted me.