Romans & histoires The Hollow Book Jessica Verday

JESSICA The forest was silent, too silent. The moon hung above like a watchful eye, painting the world in silver and shadow. I swung my blade again and again, each strike slicing through the air with desperate precision. Sweat clung to my skin and burned, but I didn't stop. I couldn’t bring myself to stop because all I could think of was revenge. It was ringing in my mind like a bell. Every breath was a reminder of the day the werewolves came. They had taken everything from me. My family, my joy. All that I have left was my uncle and my wonderful friend Mel. My uncle taught me how to fight, how to hide, and how to hate.

The thought of it consumed her. Not to mention, of course, her journal. How could she ignore that, too? After she’d returned from the hospital, the first thing she did was re-read it. She had to know that this was real, that she wasn’t crazy. The more she read it, the more she felt certain. Here she was, holding something real. Holding something that even a scholar like Aiden couldn’t explain away. And of course, it was Aiden, a scholar, an authority figure, who had insisted that this was all true. That Scarlet would turn into a vampire.

Why in the world did he have all of these for? My fingers danced along the spines of the book in curiosity. I pulled out each book slightly, hoping like my library one of them would reveal some secret compartment. I stopped as one book caught my attention. It didn’t feel solid like the other books. It was too light. “Penn, I think I’ve got something.” I pulled it out. It was a black book with no title. I opened it to discover it was a hollow book. A velvet box, slightly smaller than the book, was hidden inside of it. I opened the box and smiled.

I placed my back against it and continued listening to the conversation. “Where did you guys go?” Seth asked Janelle. “We went to go see Rebecca.” London said, finally speaking up. “Our Rebecca?” Briselle said. “I guess.” Janelle said. “She was a Caucasian girl, petite, blonde hair and stands at 5’1 in height?” “Yeah, that’s her.” “Is she even gay?” London asked. “No, that one is wild.” Naomi said. “She does what she pleases.” “Yeah, fucking a fanger was one as well.”

Jessica called out in uncertainty. "Over here in the study." Vicky's voice from another room. Jessica followed her friend's voice and soon came upon Vicky in the study. "Wow..." Jessica was awed at the sight that met her eyes when she came upon Vicky. Her friend Vicky sat in the small study surrounded by heaps upon heaps of books. Vicky still had books before her on the table and was going through them. There were books of different sizes and colours all over the desk and the girl had another big grey ancient looking book and was peering into it attentively.

And I stood awkwardly near the window, the uninvited guest, the human specter. “Thank you for coming,” Jessica said, her voice thin but clear. She didn’t look at me. Her gaze swept over her father, Ronan, and Finn. “I know there are questions. I… don’t have all the answers. It’s fragments. Darkness, cold, the smell of wet stone and… and iron.” She shuddered. “Did you see Peter Holloway?” Gideon asked, his voice soft, encouraging.

Moreover, she doubted that anyone could absorb more than ten bottles of blood essence in a night. Only lunatics would do that, and those people were all dead. Thus, although Jessica noticed that Caspian was different from yesterday, she thought he was mostly just bluffing. ‘Sure. Let me teach you a lesson like I did yesterday, you weirdo!’ Jessica secretly thought. At the thought of the booklet's content, a pink tint appeared on Jessica's cheeks. On the other side of the room, Hayley did not notice Jessica's strange look, and she directly shouted, "Start!"

He felt it—like a string pulled tight, trembling in the dark. She hadn’t awakened yet. But she had stepped into the Between. Not fully. Not completely. But enough to be seen. And now others would begin to notice. Not just the shadows. Not just the forgotten. But the ones who hated what she could become. Enemies of the Between. Keepers of the Hollow. He opened a second journal. One he had not touched in twenty years. The first page bore a single phrase: “If the Between opens, the Hollow will answer.” He closed the book and began preparing.

Holly is spinning a copper coin across her knuckles (old habit, nervous tic). Malik has his trumpet case. Vera hasn’t taken off her leather jacket once, even when it snowed last week. Holly (straight to it): “Hollow Choir update. They hit the Oregon heir last night. Took her face, her voice, her fragment. She was twelve pieces in. Now they’re wearing her like a skin suit and asking questions about Arkansas.” Vera finally speaks, voice raw. Vera: “They’re coming for the biggest remaining fragment count.

“It’s more than a fight, Lucas. Jessica, you’re the nexus’s heart, but this place—it’s where your glow was born. It might show you what your hollowness means.” Jessica’s fingers brushed the path, its warmth seeping into her, stirring memories—her mother’s smile, Echo’s laughter, the golden loom’s first touch. The hollowness pulsed, not with dread but with longing, as if the nexus’s heart called to her void. “We’ve faced weavers and stars,” she said, her voice resolute. “If this is the heart, we’ll face it together.”