The bell continued to toll, its deep, resonant chime rolling through the streets of Black Hollow in slow, deliberate intervals, measured and unwavering, the kind of sound that not only announced the passage of time but marked something far more meaningful - something inevitable, something final, something that could not be undone.

  Lea had grown up under the weight of that bell, had heard it at dawn, at dusk, at funerals, at the solemn gatherings where the town came together to acknowledge loss, to mourn, to remember. But this was different. It did not stop. It did not signal an end. It did not mark grief or reverence. It marked them.

  Sandra's fingers clenched tighter around Lea's hand, her grip damp, unsteady, trembling with the kind of fear that had no name, only a feeling of pain in the gut, a whisper at the neck, a certainty that something had changed. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was barely more than breath. "We have to find someone," she murmured as if saying it too loudly would break something fragile in the air around them.

  Lea did not answer, for she already knew the truth. There was nobody left to find.

  They had returned, but Black Hollow had not waited for them. Something else had.

  She exhaled, slow and controlled, pushing the unease into the pit of her stomach where it could not touch her, where it could not slow her steps. Without a word, she turned toward the houses that lined the street, their facades standing just as they always had - tall, wooden, their porches adorned with old rocking chairs and rusted wind chimes that had once whispered in the evening breeze. But something about them was different.

  They felt different. The spaces between them seemed too wide, the porches too deep, the windows too watching, not reflecting.

  Gemini inhaled, deep and slow, as if tasting the air, rolling it over her tongue, letting it sink into her lungs. "The air is different," she mused, her voice light, almost pleased. Lea's jaw tightened. "No, it isn't."

  Gemini turned to her, smiling in the way she always did, the way that made it impossible to tell if she was lying or just knew something no one else did. "But it is," she said, and the certainty in her voice made Lea's stomach turn.

  Sandra shivered and pressed herself closer to Lea's side, and Lea ignored Gemini and pulled Sandra forward, leading her out onto the main street, where the gas lamps still stood in their usual places, where the cobblestone streets stretched ahead in a path she had walked a thousand times before, where the church steeple rose in the distance, stark against the too-red sky.

  But none of it was familiar. Dead things rotted. Empty places echoed. But this was empty. Not abandoned. Just waiting.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Lea's pulse ticked in her throat, sharp and steady. Sandra's voice was too small. "What happened?" Lea didn't answer. Because she knew. They hadn't just left the market. They had brought something back. The city was not the same.

  She felt it in the weight of the air, in the unnatural stillness that clung to her skin, in the way the houses seemed to lean inward, as if drawn to something - to her. Sandra clung to her arm, fingers digging into the fabric of Lea's coat, her breath coming too fast, too thin. Gemini walked ahead of them, her bare feet whispering on the cobblestones, her steps light, deliberate, carefree.

  She tilted her head slightly, dark eyes scanning the city, drinking in the silence as if it were something beautiful.

  And through it all, the bell kept ringing, loud and relentless. Each slow, measured toll sent a shiver through Sandra's small frame, and made her jump, as if the sound was inside her, burrowing into her bones.

  The bell finally stopped. All at once. Abruptly. Sudden. Not like a chime fading naturally into silence. As if something had cut it off. No echo. The silence that followed was too quick, too absolute as if the city had taken a breath and was waiting to exhale.

  Lea was still, her body locked, every muscle coiled and listening. Sandra's grip tightened painfully.

  A breath. Not hers. It was something else. It rolled down the empty street. Low. Deep. Wet. A sound that did not belong in the open air, that should not exist outside of the lungs. A sound like lungs that had not been used for too long.

  Sandra's pulse jumped under Lea's grip. "Lea-" Lea's jaw locked.

  She turned sharply, her eyes sweeping over the houses, the porches, the alleys. Nothing. But the breathing didn't stop. It came again. Closer. From the houses, from the streets, from below. Sandra's breath was ragged, barely a sound. "Lea," she whispered again.

  Gemini sighed again.

  She lifted her arms slightly as if to bask in the damp, heavy air, to let it settle on her skin, soak into her bones. "It's waking up," she murmured. Sandra shook violently. "What is it?" Gemini finally turned to face her and smiled. "The city." Lea's stomach dropped.

  Now she understood what they had done. The market had not just let them go. It had followed them. And Black Hollow wasn't Black Hollow anymore. Gemini's words hung in the air like something rotten, sinking into the very marrow of the town.

  "The city is waking up."

  Sandra's fingers dug into Lea's coat, twisting the fabric between clenched fists, but Lea barely felt it. Because Gemini was right. The air wasn't just heavy. It was moving. Not with the wind, but with something else. Lea could not see it, not exactly. But she could feel it.

  The weight of something pressing against her chest, rolling through the streets, curling between the houses, whispering through the walls. As if the whole city had taken a breath and now it was waiting to exhale.

  The church bells were ringing again. Not the slow, steady tolling of before.

  This time they were fiercer and wilder. They clanged against each other, over and over, the sound splitting the air, shattering the silence. Sandra jumped. "Who's ringing them?" No one.

  The church was empty. They both knew that. But the bells kept ringing. The streets widened. The houses stood higher. The sound rattled through the hollow city, shaking something loose beneath them. Gemini took a slow, deep breath. Lea's hands clenched into fists. "Stop smiling," she growled. Gemini's grin widened.

  "Why?"

  Lea's pulse pounded. Because this wasn't a warning. It was a welcome. The bells didn't ring to signal that something was coming. They were celebrating. Because something was already here.