Hollowed Minds Novels & Stories

The creator shouted sharply— “Stop listening to it!” The alternate Silas laughed brokenly. “How?” His voice cracked apart. “It’s telling the truth.” The Hollow pulsed eagerly. The darkness flooding into our world thickened instantly. Because despair fed it. Not fear. Not grief. Giving up. The void beside me recoiled painfully. Because it understood this thing better than anyone. The Hollow wasn’t born from pain. It was born from the moment people decided healing was impossible. The marketplace lights died one by one. Cold spread through the streets.

"I've done nothing wrong. I agree to call off the engagement." Mark froze, completely taken aback. Then, a robotic voice echoed in my head, ‘The Thought Sharing feature has now been activated. Please choose who you want to share it with.’ Thought Sharing? The person I picked could hear Alice's thoughts, too? I looked at Mark, still in shock, and calmly touched my face. ‘I choose Mark.’ Right then, Alice's inner voice rang out again, just in time. 'Can you believe it? With just a little trick, Helen has given up on Mark all by herself?'

“You wished to see me.” “Yes, Vivenne. I need answers.” The bone charms around her wrists rattled as she shifted in the chair. “The hollowing is a sophisticated ritual. A human mind cannot sustain that level of darkness on its own. The hollowed spirit is a mindless vessel of destruction, so he answers to someone.” “We already know that, Vivienne. What I want to know is can we stop this thing?” She considered the question. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” I scoffed. “I didn’t call you here for ‘maybes’, Vivienne.”

Controlled chaos. A van rolled past, headlights washing the warehouse in sterile white light. In that momentary glare, the cracks in the bricks showed, the boarded windows rattled, and the faint smear of blood at the edge of the doorframe caught the rider’s attention. They revved the engine once—sharp, decisive.

It tasted of endings long finished—of ash without fire, of rain after extinction, of the quiet that follows when no one is left to mourn. Around her stretched an immense hollow that refused every simple definition. It was not sky, but it arched infinitely above her. Not a cavern, yet depth pressed in from all sides. There was light, but no source—only a diffuse glow that softened edges and erased distance, making near and far feel like the same mistake. Shapes drifted at impossible reaches: fractured landscapes rotating slowly, broken suns dimmed to embers, echoes of valleys that still remembered wolves running through them even though no wolves remained. Threads of light floated through the

“Yes. It doesn’t just affect the mind. It binds to your soul, burrows deep and changes who you are from the inside out.” “And that’s how they hid your past?” Emma asked. “That, and something worse." Evangeline nodded. "They trapped me in a realm called Hollowmere.” She glanced out the window, as if the memory might follow her there. “It’s a pocket dimension, not entirely real, not entirely illusion. A kind of... emotional prison built from fragments of human suffering. If the world is a song, then Hollowmere is the silence left behind when the music is ripped away.” Emma stared at her, lips parted.

The identity of the person responsible for adorning her with the mysterious items eluded her, though she entertained the notion that it could have been Brady. Khali drew in a deep breath, feeling the beads of sweat on her forehead. With a quick swipe of her hand, she cleared the moisture from her skin. She awoke from a restless slumber, and her mind still shrouded in a haze of confusion. A peculiar dream had visited her at night, yet its contents remained elusive. Despite her best efforts to recall its details, the memory of it slipped through her grasp like sand through her fingers. As Khali wiped her forehead, the earbuds were inadvertently drawn into her grip. She perceived distinct thoug

Whatever things that are not from the Lord the Eaters were being fed off. Harold has a lot of Eaters surrounding him every day. Today, I am fighting six of them with my bare hands and the skills that was left in me for decades of trainings. I cannot let them eat another portion of Harold’s mind and heart. He must think of the happy thoughts; he is running fast from the owner of the bag he just stole with. He was fourteen years old, homeless and starving. He run out from the orphanage he is staying to find his sister, but he failed. Thus, he was walking and begging on the busy street of Toronto.

Hundreds of employees, all kinds of luxury but compulsory living spaces. Do not let the traces of your ancestors and grandfathers be erased. Let the family reign here. That was all that was wanted. The young man, who rebelled against this, could not go no matter what he did, and as time passed, he felt that his heart was drying up like the land here. Not only his heart, but his feelings, his eyes... one "I'm leaving!" one

“I’m sorry, I finally had some energy to compose myself and suddenly remembered that you had come back. I haven’t even got to see you yet.” “It's okay, it’s not your fault. You must be just as sad as I am.” Willow sighed. “I heard that you are going back tomorrow. Come have dinner with me tonight.” “I’m not going back there.” “Why?” Harmony murmured dejectedly, “I have no relatives or friends back there. It’s so lonely every day. I don't want to live like that forever. I’m so sad that Henry passed away so suddenly and I couldn’t even get to see him one last time. I don’t want to be so far away from everyone again.”