Bleach Hollow Oc Novels & Stories

Blade came out with his usual all black clothing—a big black sweatshirt, a black baggy jean, black glasses, black face cap, black sneakers— and a revolver carefully tucked by his side. To my shock, the passenger door opened and a girl came out. She was obviously young, probably fourteen or fifteen with red hair and a round hazel eyes which peered at me through the glass of the coffee shop. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was and why Blade had decided to bring her along. They both shared words before walking towards the coffee shop. “Emily!” Blade called as he walked inside with his companion right behind him. “I’m right here,” I said waving my hands in the air to draw his attention.

I looked down at the fox, who nodded towards me and before leaving his beam of light, I patted his head and thanked him once more before leaving the circle of light. Black void surrounded me once more but I ignored it and rushed over to the beaming light that was beginning to come closer and closer until finally I stood flushed in it. I looked around, noticing the light of the fox was barely insight. I let out a sigh at the sight of my other form standing so far away but decided to ignore it for the moment as I turned my head and looked down at the curled up form of my human body, the body of my true form. I crouched down and took in the sight of my humanity. It was pale and skinny, three pi

The symbol inside the Hollow burned into my vision. The compass. My compass. Identical. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “That… can’t be possible,” I whispered. Yet the truth pulsed through the bond, undeniable. The Hollow wasn’t simply born from imbalance. It had once been balance itself. The creature roared, its massive body writhing as silver, gold, and white light clashed against the darkness surrounding it. Cracks spread across its form, revealing flashes of the same radiant energy glowing within me.

“Don’t talk to them.” “Well, they’re talking to me!” “They’re trying to get inside your head.” Too late for that. The voice from before stirred faintly within me, warm and dangerous. They recognize you. “No,” I whispered under my breath. Kael glanced at me sharply. “What did it say?” I froze. “You can hear it too?” “No,” he said immediately. “But I can see when it’s speaking.” That somehow felt worse. A Hollow stepped forward slowly. Unlike the others, this one wore remnants of silver armor beneath the shadows curling around its body. Its face looked almost normal until it smiled too wide.

The government’s towers were nothing but blackened skeletons of twisted steel, but the damage they had inflicted was walking toward us on two legs. They emerged from the fog in clusters: silent, rhythmic, and terrifyingly orderly. These were the "Hollows." Unlike the Unbound, who carried the chaotic, violet fire of the Elder blood in their eyes, these people were empty. Their pupils were fixed and dilated, their faces devoid of the micro-expressions that signal human thought or emotion. In clinical terms, they were suffering from a Total Cognitive Erasure. The frequency wall had not just blocked their resonance: it had performed a localized "Format" of their cerebral cortex.

I modulate my breaths to take in less of the abominable melange of odours and follow the bleach to its source in the bathroom. It’s as tidy as the rest of the flat, but it’s also been cleansed so completely that almost none of my original human scent remains. Even Canus’s scent is more prominent than mine in this room, and, as I glance around at the off-white tub and U-bend, I find myself strangely repulsed by it all. I stand there for an unknowable amount of time, seemingly frozen in place. I hate it. I hate everything about this place. The aversion floods me, but I also feel utterly empty.

The storm roars, hungry. I grip the needle. The village dissolves. --- **The Hollowfather's Gift** The hollow isn't a place. It's a *being*. A colossus of static and teeth, its form endlessly unraveling. It has no face, but I feel its gaze-a pressure that cracks my ribs, that liquifies my resolve. *"You've always been mine,"* it croons. *"The Weaver stole you. Shrank you. Let me remake you."* The storm begs. *"Let him."*

Evangeline swallowed, her throat raw. “The Outer Veil. We’re moving west, towards Aetherreach. The Hollow breached the inner sanctum less than an hour ago.” “I don’t even know what the Hollow is.” Evangeline’s chest tightened as Cassius met her unblinking and steady eyes “They are what was left when hope was ripped from something that used to be alive.” he replied, grumpily, as though forced to speak. "That’s not even an answer.” Evangeline blinked. “True, but it’s the only one that fits, goddess.” Selene shrugged.

Figures stepped out into the concourse. There were at least forty of them. They were entirely naked, their skin a pale, sickly grey. They had Ashren’s towering, heavily muscled build, but their faces were blank, entirely devoid of humanity. Their eyes were solid white, lacking the purple, toxic glow of the Void. They were the empty shells. The unfueled clones of the Midnight Wolf. "Kill them," Kaelen commanded over the speakers. The empty shells lunged. They did not have weapons, but they moved with Ashren’s exact, terrifying speed. A massive bear-kin warrior stepped forward, swinging a jagged obsidian spear at the chest of the closest clone.

"Why does it have your face?" The Bloom shivered, the obsidian leaves peeling back to reveal a figure emerging from the dark nectar of the Heart. It was a woman, tall and ethereal, her skin the color of a bruised moon. She was a perfect, dark reflection of Rhea—but where Rhea was filled with grief and fire, this construct was made of absolute, clinical coldness. Her eyes weren't amber or violet; they were mirrors, reflecting the worst fears of anyone who looked into them.