The Hollow Adam Novels & Stories

“Mommy?” Hazel’s voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. Haley spun, heart pounding. “Hazel? Ryder?” The forest answered with silence. Then eyes opened in the dark. Silver. Dozens of them. Watching. Waiting. She backed away, breath coming sharp and shallow, until her shoulders hit something solid. She turned— Adam stood there, but wrong. His eyes were hollow, his chest split open like something had ripped him apart from the inside. Black smoke poured from the wound instead of blood.

But these two mystical things have dark colors as if they are not entirely formed. Lastly, "All I want is for a satisfactory story that I may bring to my death," an ancient feathered pen emerged as it began scrambling tokens of characters unfamiliar to any civilization on Earth. It moved so fast that it vanished quickly as its tokens of characters faded as well, and a sarcophagus, with a skeleton and a bony crown on top of its head, engraved on it locked Martin inside. After a few seconds, like the rest, it also evaporated into nothingness. Everything that had happened felt surreal and imaginary at the same time. So many strange artifacts appeared around Martin, but with his eyes closed and

“Then help me.” > Why should I aid the vessel of the one who unmade me? “Because if the Hollow God rises, he’ll consume everything. You. Me. Even the ruins of your hatred.” > He is not my heir. He is my consequence. The shadows swirled violently, but then the form stepped closer—almost corporeal now. A man with hair of shifting smoke, eyes of cracked starlight, and a voice like thunder cracking stone. > You want power to stop him? Then take it.

Jack Horner groans even deeper, pumping his hips much faster than before. "Yes," Goldie Lockhart moans into the pillow. "Release inside me, Daddy! Fill my body up with your—" "Fuck!" Jack Horner growls out loud, holding the young man's hips with a super tight grip while blowing his huge load of hot fluid deep inside Goldie's back opening. He keeps his hips moving while the fluid comes out, but the speed changes because now the capo's big body is shaking from the same massive release he gave the young man.

Elena's blood ran cold. The figure's face began changing. Marcus. Elias. Adrian. Then— Elena. The Hollow. She understood. It hadn't been destroyed. It had learned something. It could now imitate anyone. But there was one thing it still couldn't imitate. Choice. Elena looked at Amara. “The Hollow has my body.” Amara shook her head. “No.” Elena stared. “Then what?” Amara whispered: “Your body has the Hollow.” The Final Transmission

"But that fūcker hurt you!" I shook my head and held his hand. "Listen to what I have to say, Leirom and Waian," I started, looking deep into his eyes. "I... I am not from your world, or at least not anymore. That world you're seeing is called Earth and that is where I currently live. That... That man wants to kill every single human in my world and make it your new world. My–My real name is Adam, but it seems like I am Silas, too. We don't have time, Leirom. That man needs to be stopped! Please save my world, my people. My family is there, Leirom, please." I desperately begged him while clinging to him.

A dark deep voice made the two women freeze to death. Nadhea could not say no if Adam came out of his blanket to reveal his upper body perfectly sculpted by God. Sixpack Adam attracts all the women who look at him except Nadhea because this is his second life. Like a broken cassette tape rushing around in his brain pressing that it was not the only woman in the world disturbing Adam. His wealth can also be used. Nadhea shook her head as she recalled that night. Nadia heard a kiss on her shoulder.

“Why unfortunately? I hate that word in this house.” Melody smoothed her hand over a section of the ruined book, voice low. “Because if this translation is right… the Hollow King isn’t a single creature. He’s not like Jade.” Heather blinked. “Say it in worse terms, that’d be nice.” Melody let out a humorless huff. “He’s not a person. He’s a hunger.” There was a beat of quiet. Liam stopped pacing. Zane looked up, mouth parting. Collin didn’t move at all.

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."*

Every sound was a vibration, every heartbeat a pulse in the system. Lola stood barefoot on what looked like a floor made of glass and light. Her reflection stared back but it wasn’t still. It moved half a second too late, like a mirror lagging behind her soul. “Adam?” she called softly. The fog shimmered. He appeared flickering, glitching at the edges his outline glowing faintly blue. His eyes were raw, red rimmed from emotion that no longer had a body to ground it. “You made your choice,” he said hoarsely. “You didn’t wake up. So I came for you.”