Thomas’ breath came in shallow gasps. The Hollow Mother loomed before him, a shadow stitched into the fabric of the forest itself. Around her, the stolen children swayed, their hollow eyes locked onto him.
Lily stood among them, barely able to hold herself up. She was pale, thin—her tiny hands trembled at her sides. But when her gaze met his, recognition flickered.
“Daddy…” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Thomas lurched forward, but the Hollow Mother lifted a skeletal hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“A life was taken,” she repeated. “A life must be given.”
The words echoed in his skull, filling him with dread.
Lily’s life for another.
He turned back toward the path he had come from. Home felt impossibly far away, like another lifetime. Elaine. His wife. The mother of his child.
She was waiting.
Could he?
His hands trembled around the doll in his grip. The cursed thing that had been Lily’s prison. The thing that had whispered to him, led him here.
Could he give up someone else to take Lily home?
No.
The thought was immediate, unshakable.
The Hollow Mother watched, patient.
“Then you stay,” she murmured. “And the girl will go.”
Thomas’ stomach clenched. His body felt suddenly heavier, like roots were winding around his ankles, pulling him down into the forest floor. The trees behind him closed in, their twisted branches like fingers reaching for him.
A deep, terrible cold settled in his chest.
Could he do it? Could he stay here, become part of this nightmare, if it meant Lily was safe?
But what would she go home to? A mother who had already lost her husband, a home haunted by what had happened?
No.
No, there had to be another way.
Desperation took hold. He looked down at the doll in his hands.
It had carried Lily’s soul once.
Could it carry another?
His pulse thundered. He gripped the doll tighter and turned to the Hollow Mother.
“What if I give you something else?” His voice was hoarse, raw. “What if I give this back?”
The Hollow Mother stilled.
“You would trade the vessel?”
His fingers tightened around the doll. “Yes.”
The air grew thick, pulsing with something ancient, something eager.
The Hollow Mother lifted her head, revealing more of the terrible void where her face should have been.
“Then so it shall be.”
The children’s heads turned in unison, their mouths opening in silent gasps. Wind howled through the hollow tree as the shadows twisted, dark tendrils reaching toward the doll.
Thomas’ heart pounded.
The moment the darkness touched the doll, it screamed. A shrill, unnatural wail that split the air. The fabric twisted, black veins spreading across it as something unseen was sucked into it.
The Hollow Mother’s body shuddered. The shadows twisted violently around her, and for the first time, she let out a sound—a hiss of pain.
The moment stretched, unbearable.
Then—
“Daddy?”
Thomas spun.
Lily was looking up at him, her eyes wide and full of life.
She was free.
He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her, held her tight, and ran.
Behind him, the Hollow Mother shrieked. The trees twisted, the earth cracked—but the moment his foot crossed the threshold of the woods, the world snapped.
Silence.
They were standing at the edge of the forest.
The house was in sight.
The woods behind them were still.
Thomas looked down at Lily, tears streaming down his face. She was warm. Breathing.
Alive.
He didn’t question it. He carried her home, whispering words of comfort as she clung to him.
But as they reached the house, Lily stirred in his arms.
She looked back toward the trees, a frown creasing her little brow.
“…Where’s Mommy?”
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