Thornwick Hollow, 2023 – Blood Moon Night
The Ashwood Tree was dying.
Its bark had split open in jagged seams. Black ichor leaked from its roots, bubbling up from the soil like the earth itself was infected. Fog clung to the base of the hill like a living thing, pulsing in rhythm with the blood moon above.
The five girls stood in a circle, shards in hand, the leather-bound oath book open before them.
Noa's palm was still bleeding. The blood glowed unnaturally as it soaked into the dead leaves around the tree.
The Hollow was waking.
"Start reading," Noa whispered.
Celeste opened the book. The final page had finished itself—written in looping black ink as if guided by an invisible hand.
"By ash and oath and blood returned, we bind the Hollow's name.
Let memory break, let fire consume, let no soul speak the same."
The words rang out, low and hollow.
The wind screamed through the branches. The moon seemed to shudder.
And then—
The fog monster emerged.
It slithered from the mist like a thing half-born, half-remembered—shapeless and shifting, with too many limbs that didn't move quite right. Its face was a blur, its eyes endless. And it was angry.
Riven stepped forward, her fragment held like a blade. "Keep going!"
The others joined hands. The circle held.
Astra recited the next line. Mavis repeated it. Celeste's voice cracked, but she didn't stop.
Noa was last.
"Let her memory seal the Hollow. Let my name be the price."
The wind howled.
The monster surged toward them.
And Noa let go.
She closed her eyes and gave it everything: her memories, her pain, her bond with the others.
She saw herself as a child, laughing with Astra. Sneaking out with Mavis. Crying in Celeste's arms. Standing under the stars with Riven.
She gave it all.
The fragments lifted from their hands and spun in a spiral above her head. They fused into a single black stone—whole again—before cracking into light and melting into the soil.
The Ashwood Tree groaned.
The fog recoiled.
The Hollow screamed.
Then silence.
The girls woke hours later in a ring of scorched grass, the tree blackened and quiet.
Noa stood apart, her eyes distant.
"Who are you?" she asked, looking at them. Not afraid. Just… blank.
The blood oath had taken her memories—every thread of connection between them. It had spared her life, but erased the bonds that made it whole.
The others didn't speak. They just watched as she turned and walked down the hill, the fog lifting gently around her.
They let her go