Hollowing Souls Novels & Stories

The “Infection Pods” hit the reinforced pavement of Aethelgard with the wet, sickening sound of glass breaking over a grave. From the pools of black, viscous liquid, the “Hollowed” emerged. They weren’t the Ghost Pack we had fought before, and they weren’t the noble Lithic-Wolves of the desert. They were something far more efficient and far more terrifying. They were humans who had been instantaneously rewritten by the pathogen—their bones elongated until they snapped, their skin turned to a translucent, sickly grey, and their eyes replaced by the single, horizontal red slit of the Architects.

She had simply disappeared into thin air as if she’d never been there in the first place. Abigail’s eyes flew open, she was physically drained and a sort of humming filled her entire body. A humming that she had never experienced before. A humming that spoke to her soul and made her feel a great loss. A sense of sadness washed over Abigail and a tear slid down her cheek. *** Caleb and Leah stood by one of the bonfires chatting about all that they were going to get up to during their summer break. They were both going to be working at Silver Stardust, so they would be spending each day in each other’s company.

The Hollow sang at dawn. It wasn’t a melody made by mouths or instruments—it was bone-deep, a rumble that rose through stone and soul alike. Lilly felt it before she heard it, a vibration in the soles of her feet that climbed into her chest like a second heartbeat.

Lyra’s stomach twisted violently. She’d heard of them in half-forgotten legends: creatures born of corrupted souls, bound by blood-magic and cursed purpose. Not quite spirit, not quite flesh—made for hunting things like her. Things cursed by birth. “We have to hold the Hollow,” Kaelen said, already moving to the ridge. “The wards weren’t made to stop soul-bound beasts.” Lyra followed, every nerve lit with adrenaline. The Hollow shifted around them—branches curling away, roots retracting as if the forest itself feared what approached. They reached the high ridge just in time to see the first of the monsters step from the tree line.

Morwen’s hands shook as she drew a new one in her own blood. Veyra chanted, voice trembling, offering her animus like a sacrifice. They placed fresh relics,black crystals, bone shards, and a lock of hair wrapped in silver thread into the center. They were trying to rebind the Hollow. To force it back under their control. I almost laughed. They didn’t understand. The Hollow wasn’t a tool. It was a consequence. And consequences don’t obey liars. I left them there, bleeding and begging in the dark, and returned to my dorm.

I placed my head on my knees again and just sulked for what seemed like hours. I heard a few words from the outside world here and there and most of them just slipped over my head words that I weren’t seeking words that I didn’t need and from people I didn’t need it from. “I’ll take the wheel until you’re ready to face the world again” I heard my wolf say within the shadows and in all and all I didn’t mind I needed a break I needed a refresh and I needed to work through what had just happened. Moon Goddess: “you sent Saige to assassinate Scarlet at her gender reveal are you kidding me Zeus

I also made an effort to listen to Madeline’s thoughts, putting myself in her shoes and trying to understand her perspective. Their lives began to improve, and they often shared stories about the friends they made at school. They became close companions as they learned from each other. Together, they succeeded in getting into prestigious universities. I watched them smile often and I quietly exhaled with relief. As I became more empathetic, I no longer blamed others for my suffering. Slowly, my business began to flourish. The soul swap was perhaps a gift from the heavens. It not only saved Madeline but also rescued me from becoming someone increasingly arrogant and self-centered.

“They’ll believe it when it’s too late. Or when it hurts them.” Ashling stood slowly and spoke for the first time since the awakening. “There’s a name,” she said, eyes wide and strange. “In the oldest stories. Not a person, not a god. Just a… concept. A word the shamans feared.” “What word?” Nyxar asked. She looked at him. “The Hollowing.” The silence after was colder than mist. Thalen’s face didn’t change, but her shoulders stiffened. “That name,” she said, voice low, “is not from your world. It is from theirs.”

what would I see, underneath? What did that loose-fitting mask hide? I wanted to look away from that horrible, sagging face and burning yellow eyes, but I couldn’t. I saw, in fleeting glimpses that curdled my guts, things writhing around the edge of the clearing. Things neither human nor animal, neither one thing nor another. Things made of twisted, polluted flesh. They were making those horrible sounds as they twisted and snapped and mounted each other, all to the tune of their own squeals. Whatever they were or had been, they snapped and thrusted into each other in hysteric mania. All this I only glimpsed, because as horrible as it was to gaze upon the man in yellow, it was preferable to t

•••• •••• •••• •••• They both decided it'll be best to have separate rooms for now, Muhammad had said, "I'll wait for however long it takes for you to get comfortable with me but be warned, once you do, you won't be able to keep your hands off this hunk." They both bursted into laughter, "hunk is a muscular man, see your thin arms, no be only hunk, you that have the face of hulk."