Whispers of the Lost

Chapter 18 : The Haunting Truth

The shadows in the doorway twisted, forming a shape that made my breath stop in my throat. The figure wasn't just darkness; it was something more insidious, something that felt like fear personified. The whispering voice that had mimicked Emma's now distorted, echoing around the room.

"Come to us, Mia... Come to the Hollow."

Blaze shifted beside me, his body taut like a coiled spring, the flashlight quivering in his hand. The beam of light caught the shadowy figure, and for the briefest moment, the darkness recoiled, shrinking back. But then it surged forward again, swallowing the light.

Cody growled low in his throat, pressing himself against my leg, his fur bristling. I could feel the tremble in his body, and I was shaking too, every nerve screaming at me to run—but there was nowhere to go. My room, my sanctuary, had become a trap.

"Mia." The voice was closer, wrapping around my name with a sickly, intimate familiarity. My blood turned to ice, and I clutched at Blaze, my nails digging into his arm. He didn't flinch, but I could feel how tense he was, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I need to try something," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Distract it. Just... trust me."

Blaze turned to me, his eyes wide and scared but resolute. He nodded once, and without hesitation, he stood up, positioning himself between me and the shadow. His jaw clenched, and he held the flashlight high, his hands steady despite the fear I knew he was feeling.

"Hey!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the dark. "You want her? You have to get through me first."

The shadow paused, as if considering him, and the air grew colder. My breath misted in front of me, and I swallowed down the rising panic. Blaze was buying me time, but it wouldn't last long. The Hollow wanted me, and it wouldn't let anything—or anyone—stand in its way.

I closed my eyes, my heart racing, and tried to focus. I thought about everything I had learned, everything the journals and books had told me about the Hollow. It thrived on fear and isolation. It thrived on pain. But there had to be something, some piece of hope or courage, that could push it back.

"Mia!" Blaze shouted again, his voice breaking. I opened my eyes to see the shadow advancing, almost lazily, like a predator playing with its prey. Blaze swung the flashlight at it, but the light barely seemed to bother the darkness anymore.

I had to act now.

I grabbed my desk chair and, with all the strength I could muster, shoved it into the shadowy figure. The impact felt like hitting a wall of cold, suffocating tar, and the chair was swallowed almost instantly. But the shadow wavered, just for a second, and I used that moment to grab Blaze's arm and pull him backward.

"We can't fight it head-on," I said, my voice breaking. "We have to get out of here."

Blaze nodded, the flashlight still gripped in his hand, and we made a desperate dash for the door. Cody ran ahead, barking frantically, and I followed, Blaze right behind me. We stumbled down the hallway, and the shadows seemed to chase us, licking at our heels with freezing tendrils.

The front door was just a few steps away, but my legs felt like lead, each step a monumental effort. I was terrified that I'd look back and see the shadow right behind me, that I'd feel its cold fingers wrap around my neck and pull me back into the darkness.

"Almost there," Blaze panted, but his voice was strained, his fear cracking through.

We burst through the front door, and the night air hit me like a slap, cool and stinging. The darkness outside was vast, but it felt different from the suffocating shadow in my house. The moonlight was weak, but it was real, and it made the air feel almost breathable again.

We ran into the front yard, collapsing onto the dew-soaked grass, gasping for air. Cody stood over us, barking fiercely at the house, his body trembling but defiant.

I curled my fingers into the grass, grounding myself in the reality of it, the dampness soaking into my skin. My heart was still pounding, my chest aching, but I was out of the Hollow's grasp—at least for the moment.

Blaze rolled onto his back, staring up at the night sky. His chest heaved, and I could see the sheen of sweat on his face, the way his hands shook. But he was alive. We both were. That counted for something.

"What... the hell was that?" he whispered, his voice raw.

I swallowed hard, my throat painfully dry. "That's the Hollow," I said. "Or part of it. It's getting stronger."

Blaze turned his head to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "It almost took you," he said, and the crack in his voice sent a wave of guilt crashing over me. He had been dragged into this nightmare because of me, because I couldn't let go of my search for Emma.

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away, pushing myself to sit up. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "You shouldn't be part of this. You should be... anywhere else."

Blaze shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah, maybe. But I'm here now." He sat up, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "We can't keep running from this thing, Mia. We need to find a way to stop it."

I nodded, the fear still coiled tight in my chest. The thought of going back into the house, of facing the Hollow again, made my entire body shudder. But Blaze was right. We couldn't run forever.

Suddenly, a new voice cut through the night, low and mocking. "Running away already, little Mia?"

My blood ran cold. I turned to see a boy, maybe a few years older than me, standing at the edge of the yard. His hair was dark, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. He wore a leather jacket, his hands shoved into his pockets, and he looked completely unfazed by the horror that had just unfolded.

Blaze stiffened beside me, his hand instinctively tightening around the flashlight. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

The boy smirked, tilting his head. "Call me Ash," he said, his voice smooth and unsettling. "And if you're serious about stopping the Hollow, you're going to need my help."