The worn, black boots, scuffed from countless confrontations, filled Nord's field of vision as they approached the edge of the bed. The room was silent but for the woman's slow, deliberate pacing—each step an echo of menace. Nord could feel the tension coil tighter in the guts of the three boys huddled beside her, like a spring wound almost to the point of snapping.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," the woman cooed, her voice dripping venom with mock sweetness. "Let's have a heart-to-heart, shall we? I promise it won't hurt much, little demon."
Nord's fingers tightened around the hilt of her twin daggers. A knot of determination formed within her. It's another woman, she thought. I stand a chance. With stealthy movements, she shuffled to the side, her eyes flicking to the young faces beside her, and motioned sharply for them to remain still.
"Come on, show your little horns," the woman sang, a lullaby from hell. "I know you're there."
Slinking to the other side of the bed, muscles tense and ready to explode into action, Nord prepared to spring. But the instant her foot touched the ground, an invisible vice gripped her and threw her against the wall as if she were a ragdoll.
"Oh, look at you, I was chasing a demon and got a filthy wretch instead!" the woman declared. Her presence was a tapestry of calculated beauty and cold malice, each detail—from her impeccably tailored outfit to her perfectly styled hair—screaming control.
"What the...?" Nord gasped, her voice barely a rasp as the unseen force constricted around her neck.
"My name is Ursula," the woman said, sauntering forward with the air of a predator closing in on its prey. "And you, Nord Morningstar, have made my day remarkably simpler. It is two rabbits and a stone. How delightful, this might even get me some extra tokens."
Panic sprinted through Nord's thoughts. Ursula knew her. Knew her name. And she was after something—or someone—else. Someone else? Time was a dwindling luxury.
"Who hired you?" Nord choked out, her mind scrabbling for a foothold, any leverage.
"I'm a professional. I do not disclaim the name of my customers, " Ursula sneered. "People hire me to solve problems, and I oblige, it’s as simple as that. Taking this Tower? Just a gig. But hunting down that lying, treacherous Adamastor? Oh, that's personal. And I know how delicious you are to him and that charlatan demon. As I said, two rabbits and a stone."
The darkness edged in, narrowing Nord's vision to a pinhole. "Adamastor? What has he done to you? He cares about you, Ursula!"
"Cares? By lying? Told me he was dying and still walks around! Promised me things, lies, all of it!" Ursula's voice reached a fever pitch, her face flushed and twisted in a tapestry of betrayal and wrath.
Let me out!
The soothing voice within Nord—insistent, almost frantic—began to pound in her skull.
Let me out.
She wavered, her resolve wearing thin. Letting the Hollow loose was a gamble she couldn't afford to take, especially with the children so near. Yet her own strength was ebbing fast.
Let me out!
"What's in this tower for you?" Nord forced the words out, the noose around her neck tightening with every syllable. "There is nothing here besides memories! Adamastor has nothing to do with this Tower."
"You think this is for a man?" Ursula laughed bitterly. "My patron wants this Tower. That's all you need to know."
"Why?"
"Baal Berith," Ursula said, and a spark of realization flared in Nord's mind.
Let me out!
The voice inside her was screaming now. LET ME OUT!
Nord felt as if she were being ripped apart, torn between the need to protect and the urge to survive. The mental dam she had built over the last months shattered, the floodgates giving way to the Hollow within. It surged into her senses, drowning her inhibitions, leaving her no choice but to unleash the storm.
"Ursula... run..." Nord whispered before she lost control.
As the invisible force constricting her neck finally slackened, Nord unleashed a guttural cry, her eyes glowing with a feral darkness. Now it was Ursula's turn to look afraid.
"I told you to run, Ursula!" Nord's voice seemed to fill the bedroom with a sinister resonance. Her eyes glowed darkness that suppressed any light around them, a demonic testament to the Hollow that had possessed her.
Ursula, eyes flickering with apprehension, tried to muster some semblance of courage. "Running is for the weak," she spat out, her voice tinged with a feigned bravado she didn't feel, "And it doesn't pay the bills!"
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Nord smirked. "Ah, but you are weak, aren't you? I can smell your fear, and I can almost taste your magic... I'm hungry..."
Beneath the bed, the two children and the goblin huddled together, their hands clutching one another as they tried to make themselves as small as possible. Their eyes were wide, hearts pounding like war drums in their chests.
Ursula's fingers twitched at her sides, ready to conjure illusions, but uncertainty clouded her thoughts. "You underestimate me," she finally said, waving her hand to distort her appearance into a mirror image of Nord. "See? Even you can be mimicked."
"I look cute," Nord chuckled, a guttural sound that seemed to crawl up from the bowels of hell itself. "Child's play," she said, lunging forward with a swiftness that defied her human form. Her daggers narrowly missed Ursula, tearing gashes into the paisley-patterned curtains instead.
Ursula gasped, sidestepping just in time. Her pulse quickened; she felt a drip of sweat slide down her temple. Conjuring another illusion, she made it appear as though the room was filling with fire, flames licking up the walls.
Nord paused, eyeing the illusion for a moment before laughing. "You'll have to do better than that," she said, her own form rippling as the Hollow's energy intensified, warping the air around her like a heat haze. "I'm the Hollow; I am everything and nothing. How could you hurt me with something that is made of me?" With another savage leap, she caught Ursula's arm, her dagger sinking deep.
Ursula screamed, pain shooting up her arm as if her veins were filled with molten lava - Allatori blades! Her concentration shattered; the illusion of fire flickered out.
Nord twisted her dagger deeper, relishing Ursula's torment. "Any last words?"
Through gritted teeth, Ursula muttered, "Fuck you." And with a swift flick of her free hand, she conjured an illusion of blinding light.
Nord recoiled, momentarily stunned. Ursula took her chance, stumbling back, clutching her wounded arm. But the moment was all too brief; Nord shook her head, dispelling the disorientation. She lunged again, this time her dagger finding its mark. Ursula's illusion shattered as she fell to the floor, life starting to want to drain out of her eyes.
As Nord stood over her, savouring her cruel victory, beneath the bed, the children trembled, knowing they had witnessed a monster far worse than anything their nightmares could conceive.
The Hollow hovered above Ursula like a dog sniffing its next meal, its insidious tendrils of darkness caressing the air with anticipation. All it wanted was to ravish the magic swirling inside Ursula. It sensed the Atua Na of illusions and shapeshifting powers that defined her as if she were a vintage wine waiting to be uncorked.
"Ah, what a feast you'll be," the Hollow murmured, its voice a dissonant harmony that seemed to seep into the very walls of the room, "I haven't had a real meal for centuries and centuries. So, so long..."
Ursula, lying on the floor and weakened, gasped. Her eyes, once full of defiance, now dimmed with a harrowing realization. "You can't...take me. You can't..."
But the Hollow only chuckled, a sound like cracking bones. "You misunderstand. I don't want to destroy you. I want to feed. I am so hungry, Ursula, always."
Ursula felt the first tendrils of the Hollow touch her, probing into her magical core. It was a nauseating sensation as if her very essence were being siphoned through a straw. She tried to resist, to conjure a defensive illusion, but her powers flickered and waned under the Hollow's oppressive touch.
"Ah, yes. Fight if you must," the Hollow crooned, beginning to consume Ursula, "It only makes the feast sweeter."
Ursula's limbs twitched uncontrollably as her magical reservoirs were drained. Her skin paled, and her veins turned a sickly black as though ink were being pumped through them. Her eyes started to glaze over, but not before they caught a glint of something under the bed—the fearful eyes of the children, watching her lose her very essence with terror.
Ursula's eyes, a plea for mercy etched within them, locked onto a pair of unsettlingly calm, almost eerie eyes peeking out from under the bed. The eyes belonged to Bram, his twitching ears and a swishing tail that betrayed his fear and anxiety better than any words could.
He wanted to help. He wanted to stop all of it!
Dumdum tugged frantically at Bram's shirt as the Nixbob began to crawl out from the cramped space under the bed. "Bram, no, bad idea! Very, very bad idea!" he muttered, his voice tinged with desperate urgency.
Ignoring the goblin's warning, Bram crawled out and stood up, brushing dust and cobwebs from his clothes. His tail twitched erratically, indicating a blend of unease and caution. Unfazed by the looming malevolent force that stood before him, he approached the Hollow, his young face an unreadable mask.
"Please stop hurting people," Bram's voice was unnervingly steady, cutting through the heavy air like a knife.
The Hollow, channelling itself through Nord, tilted its head in genuine confusion. "You're not afraid? Most creatures, young or old, cower in my presence. How dare you command me!"
"Being scared won't help," Bram said, his eyes fixed intently on Hollow's absent gaze. "And besides, you shouldn't hurt others."
Intrigued, the Hollow sniffed the air around Bram and detected a familiar scent—something pure, untouched, almost celestial. "What are you?" it asked, its voice echoing menacing but yet also curious.
"I'm Bram, the Lucky Charm!" Bram declared, his eyes never wavering. "Just a kid asking you to stop."
The audacity and purity of the child seemed to destabilize the Hollow, even if just for a fleeting moment. A sliver of doubt clouded its dark consciousness, a feeling it couldn't quite decipher.
Then, with a suddenness that defied all logic, Bram stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the Hollow in a spontaneous, heartfelt hug.
Time seemed to freeze. The Hollow felt an unfamiliar sensation wash over it, a purity that clashed with its dark essence. It was like being plunged into a pool of crystalline water so cold it could lull even the most malevolent of entities into the profoundest slumber. And suddenly, it recognised it, the profound stillness of the Tear Lake!
The Hollow disengaged itself from Bram's embrace, its eyes flaring with a renewed malevolence. "You've made a grave mistake, child. I'm going to—"
Before it could finish the sentence, a sharp bang reverberated through the room. Nord's body crumpled to the floor, collapsing beside Ursula's unconscious form. Confused, Bram lifted his gaze and found Tower standing near, with his sucking wind device in his hands.
Tower grinned at Bram. "Well, well. Looks like you could use some help, kid," he said, shouldering the device that had seemingly knocked Nord—and the Hollow within her—unconscious.
For a split second, the room teetered on the edge of collective disbelief.
Even Dumdum, still huddled under the bed, peeked out, his eyes wide with astonishment.
Bram let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Thanks, Tower. That was close."
The goblin approached the other two and asked, "What now?"
Tower winked, his young demon features alight with mischief. "We need more duct tape!"
"More duct tape!"
"Yeah, more duct tape," agreed Dumdum, wondering what he got himself into.