GRIMM AND HOLLOW

The night outside the church was unnaturally still, the kind of silence that weighed on the chest. Isaac walked with purpose, but each step seemed to echo louder than it should, as if the world around him was amplifying his presence. Sister Amara’s warnings lingered in his mind: Vexis will test your resolve.

Resolve. He scoffed under his breath. His resolve was all that kept him going. The thought of failing meant more lives lost, more people consumed by the shadows that had plagued Hollow for generations.

The map Amara had given him pointed to an abandoned monastery at the edge of the Hollow Woods. It was a place locals avoided, even before the creatures had risen. Stories of strange lights, whispers in the wind, and people vanishing without a trace had earned it a reputation as a cursed place.

Isaac’s arrival at the monastery was heralded by the crunch of leaves underfoot. The structure loomed ahead, its towering spires broken and jagged, as though the heavens themselves had struck it down. Vines snaked along the walls, their dark tendrils giving the impression of veins feeding an ancient heart.

He pushed open the heavy wooden doors, the sound reverberating through the empty halls. Inside, the air was cold, thick with the scent of mildew and decay. Dust floated in the beams of moonlight that pierced the broken windows, painting the interior in eerie patterns.

Isaac stepped cautiously, the dagger in his hand ready. The silence was suffocating, and the faint creak of his boots seemed deafening. He felt eyes on him—many eyes.

“Welcome, Guardian.”

The voice was soft, almost melodic, but it carried an undertone that sent shivers down his spine. It echoed from everywhere and nowhere.

Isaac froze, his grip tightening on the dagger. “Vexis,” he said, his voice steady despite the chill creeping up his spine.

From the shadows emerged a figure unlike anything he had faced before. Vexis was slender and serpentine, its body wrapped in layers of shadow that seemed to writhe like living smoke. Two large, bat-like wings stretched out behind it, their edges sharp as blades. Its face was obscured, but its eyes burned with a cold, piercing light that seemed to look straight through him.

“You’ve been busy,” Vexis said, its voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Two of my kin have fallen to you. But tell me, Isaac Grimm—do you truly know what you are doing?”

“I’m ending this,” Isaac replied, stepping forward.

Vexis tilted its head, the motion unnervingly smooth. “Ending it? Or becoming it?”

Isaac hesitated, the creature’s words gnawing at him. He couldn’t afford to falter now.

“Enough talk,” he said, his tone sharp. “You’re next.”

Vexis chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “Oh, Guardian, how little you understand. Very well—let us see how strong your resolve truly is.”

The creature moved with blinding speed, its wings slicing through the air. Isaac barely had time to dodge as one wing struck the ground where he had stood, leaving a jagged gash in the stone floor.

He rolled to his feet, the dagger flashing as he slashed at Vexis. The blade met resistance, cutting through the shadows that made up the creature’s body. Vexis hissed in pain, but the wound closed almost immediately, the smoke swirling to reform its shape.

“You cannot defeat me with brute strength,” Vexis taunted, its voice echoing in the hall. “Your anger served you well against Mordeth, but it will not help you here.”

Isaac gritted his teeth, circling the creature. He needed to think, to find its weakness. Vexis was different from the others—more cunning, more manipulative. It wasn’t just testing his resolve; it was trying to break him.

The shadows around him began to shift, taking on shapes—figures from his past. He saw his partner, standing with a look of betrayal. His father, scolding him for his failures. And Avara, her lifeless body lying in the church.

“No,” Isaac muttered, shaking his head. “This isn’t real.”

“Isn’t it?” Vexis whispered, its voice coming from everywhere at once. “You carry these burdens with you, Guardian. They are as much a part of you as the blood in your veins.”

Isaac stumbled, the weight of the visions pressing down on him. He could feel his resolve slipping, doubt creeping into his mind.

But then he remembered Amara’s words: The bloodlust will fight back.

He closed his eyes, drawing on the darkness within him. The blood in his veins burned, a fire that surged through his body, sharpening his senses and hardening his resolve.

When he opened his eyes, the visions were gone. Vexis recoiled, hissing in frustration.

“You cannot use their power against me!” the creature shrieked.

Isaac smirked, the dagger glowing faintly in his hand. “Watch me.”

He lunged, his movements faster than before. The dagger sliced through Vexis’s wings, severing one completely. The creature screamed, its form destabilizing as the shadows began to dissipate.

“This isn’t over!” Vexis roared, its voice trembling with rage and fear.

Isaac drove the dagger into its chest, the blade sinking deep into the core of its being. The creature let out one final, agonized scream before disintegrating into a cloud of smoke that dissipated into the air.

Isaac fell to his knees, his chest heaving. The ichor on the dagger pulsed again, its glow brighter than before.

Three down.

---

Back at the church, Sister Amara was waiting. She took one look at Isaac and knew the battle had taken its toll.

“Vexis is gone,” he said, placing the dagger on the altar.

Amara nodded, her expression unreadable. “You’re stronger than I anticipated,” she admitted.

Isaac glanced at her, his gaze hard. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Amara hesitated, then sighed. “The pact was never meant to be broken. Each creature you defeat weakens it, but it also strengthens the bond you share with them. You’re becoming more like them, Isaac.”

He clenched his fists, the truth sinking in. “Then I’ll finish this before it’s too late.”

Amara opened the tome once more, revealing the image of the next creature. This one was skeletal, its body covered in chains that seemed to writhe like snakes.

“Lamentis,” she said. “It thrives on despair. You’ll need more than strength or resolve to face it. You’ll need hope.”

Isaac stared at the image, determination burning in his eyes. “Then I’ll find it.”

Amara reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Be careful, Isaac. The closer you get to breaking the pact, the more it will fight back.”

He nodded, turning toward the door. The battle was far from over, but he wasn’t backing down. The shadows may have taken root in his blood, but they hadn’t consumed his soul.

Not yet.