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Chapter 16 - The whisper of home

The chamber shuddered with a sound like distant thunder, though no storm touched the sky above. The children froze, eyes wide, as the shadows on the cavern walls began to stretch and twist.

Then came the voice—low, cold, and almost gentle.

"Only one more."

The words echoed across the stone like a lullaby and a curse.

Ethan gritted his teeth, pulling the younger ones closer to him. "Don't listen," he whispered fiercely. "It's trying to make us break."

But the Hollow wasn't finished. The shadows thickened, curving into shapes—half-formed faces, reaching hands, the outlines of people they loved. A mother's smile. A brother's laugh. A father's steady hand.

One of the girls gasped, stumbling toward the wall. "That's—"

Ethan grabbed her wrist, yanking her back before she could touch the dark. The shadow-face flickered, then vanished, replaced by something colder: empty eyes, grinning teeth.

The Hollow chuckled, a sound that came from everywhere at once. "You ache for them. They ache for you. Let go, and you'll be home."

The youngest boy sobbed, covering his face. "I want to go home. Please—I don't want to be here anymore."

The ground trembled underfoot, and the air seemed to press tighter around them. Ethan's own chest burned with longing—his mother's voice, his father's steady presence—but he forced it down, shaking his head violently.

"No," he said, louder this time. "It's not real. It's not them. It's it."

But even as he spoke, he felt the others wavering. Their eyes were drawn to the illusions, to the whispers curling around them like warm arms.

Ethan realized with a chill that the Hollow didn't need to drag them into the dark. It only needed one child to step willingly.

One more.

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The whispers grew sweeter, sharper, winding like silk threads around the children's minds.

"Come to me…" a voice cooed. It wasn't the Hollow's deep rasp now—it was the soft, familiar tone of a mother calling her child in from play. The sound pulled at the children's hearts with cruel precision.

One of the older boys, Jonah, stiffened. His face went pale, then flushed. He staggered toward the wall where the shadows had formed into a woman's outline.

"Jonah!" Ethan hissed, lunging to grab his arm.

Jonah shook him off, eyes shining with desperate hope. "Don't you hear her? That's my mom—she's here, she came for me. She's right there!"

The shadow-woman smiled, lips curving in uncanny perfection, and stretched out her hand. "Jonah," she whispered in his mother's exact voice, "I've missed you so much. Come home."

Jonah's trembling fingers reached out. Just one more step, and he would be swallowed.

Ethan wrapped both arms around him, dragging him back. "It's not her! It's a trick!"

Jonah fought him, sobbing. "It is her! She wouldn't leave me—she promised!" His nails scratched against the stone floor as Ethan pulled with every ounce of strength.

The shadow's smile widened, its eyes hollowing into pits of black. Its hand stretched further, impossibly long, brushing the air just inches from Jonah's cheek.

Then another child screamed. The youngest girl, Lila, covered her eyes, rocking back and forth. "Stop it! Stop it!"

The cavern shook with laughter, cruel and echoing.

Ethan pressed Jonah against the wall, forcing him to look away. "Listen to me!" he shouted. "If you touch it—you're gone. Forever. That's what it wants. Don't let it win!"

Jonah's body shook with sobs, his resistance crumbling. Finally, with a broken cry, he collapsed against Ethan's shoulder.

The shadow recoiled, its stretched hand snapping back into the wall. The false face melted away, replaced once more by shifting blackness.

The Hollow's voice slid through the chamber, no longer sweet but sharp as glass.

"Only one more."

The children clung to each other, terrified, knowing how close they had come to losing one of their own. And Ethan understood with icy certainty: next time, he might not be able to stop it.

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