Morning in the Hollow came not with sunlight, but with the deafening clang of chains against stone.
Fred forced himself to move, to act like every other broken shell around him.
Inside, though, he was more alive — and more afraid — than he had been in weeks.
Today was the day.
Today he would watch the third Overseer.
Find the key.
Find a way out.
Or die trying.
The recruits shuffled into the training yard under the cruel eyes of their masters.
Fred's heart raced as he scanned the figures standing above them on the balcony.
First overseer: heavy, thick with muscle, the sadist.
Second overseer: thin, sharp-eyed, always watching.
Third overseer: a tall man with a limp, his face hidden behind a black iron mask.
And at his hip —
There.
The flash of metal.
A key.
Fred's blood turned to ice.
It was real.
It wasn't a hallucination.
The whisper had been real.
> Now what? Fred thought.
He had no plan.
Only desperation.
Only a gnawing, clawing need to escape before the Hollow finished hollowing him out.
---
Training that day was worse than usual.
Kael stood atop the platform, barking orders designed to break the soul.
> "You! Teach the girl how to disarm an enemy."
> "You! Punish the boy for hesitating."
Punish.
Train.
Obey.
Fred moved mechanically, hands teaching, feet shuffling, but all the while his eyes stayed locked on the third overseer.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Hours passed.
Blood was spilled.
Tears were swallowed.
Still Fred waited.
Until —
The third overseer yawned.
Shifted his weight.
Turned.
And for a split second — only a split second — he wasn't looking.
Neither were the others.
It was now.
Or never.
Fred moved.
Swift.
Silent.
Like a ghost.
He crossed the yard under the chaos of sparring trainees.
Slid up the stone steps, keeping to the shadows.
The key gleamed on the overseer's belt.
Fred's hand closed around it with a surgeon's precision.
> Almost—
"Hey!"
A shout.
The overseer whirled, grabbing at Fred's wrist.
Pain exploded in Fred's arm as he twisted away, key clenched in his bleeding fist.
The overseers roared.
The alarm bells rang.
Fred sprinted down the balcony, leaping over a broken section, slamming hard into the dirt.
Shouts.
Whips.
Chaos.
Fred didn't look back.
He ran straight to the cages.
To Theo.
To the recruits.
He shoved the key into the lock, heart hammering.
> Come on, come on, come on—
The lock clicked.
The cage door flew open.
Theo stared at him in shock.
The recruits hesitated.
Terrified.
Frozen.
> "Move!" Fred screamed.
Some obeyed.
Some didn't.
Theo grabbed Fred's arm, eyes wild.
> "We can't fight them all!"
Fred knew he was right.
The overseers were already bearing down on them.
Swords drawn.
Whips cracking.
> But it's too late to stop now.
Fred pulled Theo to his feet.
They bolted for the outer corridor.
The plan was simple: Run. Hide. Survive.
But plans never survived the Hollow.
Not for long.
---
They almost made it.
Almost.
The old service tunnels lay ahead — dark, damp, a chance at freedom.
Fred and Theo pounded down the stone hallway, the recruits straggling behind.
They turned a sharp corner—
And ran straight into Kael.
He stood there, smiling.
Not angry.
Smiling.
Waiting.
And behind him —
The whisperer.
The one who had told Fred about the key.
A boy.
A traitor.
Kael nodded to the whisperer.
> "Good job."
The boy looked away, shame burning his cheeks.
Fred felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.
Betrayed.
Played.
Used.
Kael stepped forward, whip coiling in his hand.
> "Did you really think it would be that easy?"
He lashed out.
The whip cracked across Fred's face, sending him sprawling.
Blood poured from the cut.
Theo cried out, rushing forward —
Only to be grabbed by two overseers and slammed against the wall.
Fred tried to rise.
Failed.
Tried again.
His arms trembled.
He tasted dirt and blood.
Kael knelt beside him.
> "You're strong," he whispered, almost tenderly.
> "That's why we chose you."
> "That's why you'll be useful."
Fred spat blood in his face.
Kael laughed.
Wiped it away.
> "Break him," he said to the others.
> "Break them all."
And as Fred was dragged back toward the center of the Hollow — toward the darkness that had been waiting for him all along — he realized:
Escape was never an option.
Freedom was a lie.
There was only the Hollow.
And he would have to burn it from the inside out.
Or die trying.
---