Ghostly Hollow Novels & Stories

Because what the hell is giving him the impression that we would see them and come back alive? He holds my shoulders comfortingly, and I let him. Maybe because I needed that more than anything else but my pride is getting the best of me. "If they're the creatures my father told me about, then they are a rare kind of beast that feeds on any creature their victims are. Nobody knows what they really are. Survivors just started calling them the Hollowed after seeing their empty eyes. The good news is that their senses are dead unless they come face to face with their victims, and according to Father, if you are bold and fast enough to say what softens their heart, they are most likely to listen.

"Just don't be afraid of me. If it bothers you, don't look." With those words, he seemed to dissolve into a thick stack of black fog. His face peered from the center and took on a horrifying, almost demonic appearance, with glowing red eyes and elongated features made of the same fog. Emily opened her mouth in a silent scream, but the only sound that emerged was an almost inaudible squeak. "Don't look," he commanded, his voice sounding like a haunted howl of wind. "Hold on tight," he instructed as the group barreled through the line of werewolves and into the night.

Not golden like the creator. Not silver like the giant. Black. Endless. Hungry. The city screamed collectively. The eye stared directly downward. At Hope. The bond turned ice cold. The Hollow smiled. I felt it. Not with emotion. With absence. Like watching emptiness learn hunger. The alternate Silas stepped forward instantly. “No.” The Hollow’s voice echoed across dimensions. “FOUND YOU.” The marketplace shattered. Darkness exploded from the fractures overhead. The creator immediately raised barriers around the city. The giant unleashed silver light across the sky.

" Behind us, Jody's heart-wrenching sobs filled the air. I pushed down the last bit of pain in my chest and walked into the sunset. Chloe, from now on... Daddy is going to live a good life for you in this world. The End

What came through wasn't human. It had been, once. You could tell by the general shape and the way it moved on two legs. But everything else was weird. Its skin had turned gray and leathery, its fingers elongated into claws, and its face stretched into something with too many teeth. A Hollow. Class D anomaly that fed on fear. The crowd started cheering. The Hunter raised his sword. The Hollow circled him, making a clicking sound they made when they were hunting. I'd heard it before during deployments. It usually meant you were about to be attacked.

And beneath it—where the Hollow’s gate smoldered like a wound in the world—the air pulsed. Then the ground opened. From the crack spilled no flame, no smoke, but shadow—liquid and thick, spilling like tar, carrying with it shapes. Not wolves. Not men. Not anything with names. The first of the Hollow’s spawn dragged itself into the light of ash-grey day. It moved wrong, too many joints, its head bowed backward, its eyes pale as bone. Another crawled after it, and then another, and then the flood began. “Saints…” someone whispered behind Maxim, but the sound was drowned in the rise of the creatures’ cry. It was no howl, no roar. It was hunger given voice, and it made the marrow in his bones st

Cyril’s body lay motionless near the altar, but his last spell lingered like poison in the air and then the Hollow rose. It wasn’t a beast, not really, but it was ancient and vast, with eyes that looked like they remembered every sin ever committed under a moon. Its form rippled, half-wolf, half-human, and sometimes something worse. When it spoke, the sound came from everywhere at once: the air, the ground and my pulse.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

“We called him Xeroth because we needed a name to shape our fear. But he was never whole. He was only a piece… a scout, you could say. Sent ahead to test the locks on the prison. To whisper into dreams. To see how far we’d fallen.” Dorian took a step forward, eyes narrowing. “Then what’s the real enemy?” Silas’s voice dropped. “We called it the Hollowing. A force that doesn't devour flesh, but meaning. Identity. It turns memory to dust and leaves behind shells wolves who don’t remember why they ever loved. Covens who forget their names. Bloodlines hollowed out from the inside until nothing remains but hunger.” Seraphina felt the cold thread its way up her spine. “And now?” she asked. Silas l

" Wow! It doesn't seem like she can see ghosts hmm. Yes she can see ghosts but she doesn’t want to tell to other people about that. "But you can see ghost duh!” I said with full of sarcasm. "Yep. If it's a real ghost, and are you scared in ghosts? Opps.. you’re a ghoster remember?" And my crazy friend laughed as if she wasn't a ghoster too. "Wow am I the only ghoster here? You too" I muttered to her. "Hmm Aeshe whats the feeling of being ghosted?” she asked me out of nowhere. "Did you see the guys who cry when we are leaving them? And to see a guy crying with just a week of flirting with them it would have been a lot of pain that it caused them to cry like that." I said to her.