Cinder Hollow: Part 3

A horror miniseries

Ross

The sun was already hot, and the bodies were baked pink. Their skin crackled at the torn edges, with pools of blood now dried and sticky, much to the delight of the swarm of flies buzzing gleefully around them.

Ross gagged at the smell of overripe flesh, turning away. She’d seen her fair share of dead bodies, but shootings and stabbings didn’t really compare to this. Hollowed-out insides, and the eyes had been taken again. Her heart quickened. It’s her again; the Fauxra.

An agitated crowd had gathered at the perimeter, their voices rising in angry waves. A couple of officers struggled to keep them calm as they tried to force their way forward, shouting and pointing fingers.

“Two more of our own, dead!”

“Is this the same thing that killed Derek?”

“When are you gonna catch this animal!”

Vickers strolled over, carrying paper cups and wearing a wry smile. “Looks like I don’t have to worry about that ass-kicking anymore.” He handed her a coffee. His fingers tightened around his own cup, his smile faltering ever so slightly as he glanced at Daryl’s mutilated remains.

Ross cleared her throat, murmuring a thanks for the coffee. “I think we’ve got plenty more to worry about.”

“You certainly have!” Chief Harkins waddled over, adjusting his pants, his round face glistening in the heat. He shot a nervous glance at the crowd, whose angry shouts were growing more profane by the minute. “I’ve got half this town up my ass, baying for blood, and it ain’t gonna be mine — I’ll tell ya that.”

Vickers raised a placating hand. “Relax, boss. The new guy and me are on it, ain’t that right, Ross?”

She rolled her eyes. Referring to her as “the new guy” reminded her that Vickers was still an asshole, despite the coffee.

“Well, get on it quicker!” the chief said, fanning himself with a stubby hand. “Go see William Brooks again, find out if he remembers anything else. Then go back to the forest and double-check we didn’t miss anything.”

"Leave it to us." Vickers said, his tone lighter but not quite convincing. “We’ll bring shotguns — blow the bitch to smithereens if she thinks about giving us any grief.”

Ross’ stomach tightened into a knot. The thought of setting foot in that forest after what had happened made her want to run right back to the city. She hadn’t slept a wink since that night in the hospital, haunted by the memory of the Fauxra. Those stuttered, glitchy movements — like a puppet with half-cut strings. And that voice... raspy and broken, but laced with malice. The sound still echoed in her mind as she closed her eyes at night, that twisted grin and those clawed fingers reaching for her eyes.

Vickers’ calm nature wasn’t fooling her. His voice had cracked just a little. Even if he didn’t show it, she knew he was just as terrified of going back into that forest as she was.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking towards the car.

As Ross moved to follow, the chief stuck his hand out, stopping her in her tracks. “Listen, Ross. Do you know you were the only one who applied for this job?”

Ross raised her eyebrows, faking surprise. She couldn’t imagine people lining up to move to Cinder Hollow. “I never knew that, Sir.”

“Yeah, well, you were. And, to be honest, I’m not sure we’d have hired you otherwise. I mean, I’m not saying your reference was bad, but…” He squinted at her, his voice lowering. “What the hell did you do to your old boss to make him hate you so much?”

Her lip quivered just a little, and she prayed he didn’t notice. This was just another reminder of why getting as far away from the city had been the right choice. She could still see the look on her old boss’s face when she handed in her notice — part anger, part relief. She hadn’t belonged there. Maybe she didn’t belong here either.

“Well, thank you for taking a chance on me, Sir,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside.

The chief patted her arm. “Don’t make me regret it.” He turned to leave, heading toward the crowd, but then a man broke free of the perimeter, rushing forward before being tackled by an officer. He paused, watching the scene unfold for a beat, before changing course and heading in the opposite direction.

*****

They hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. Vickers kept his eyes fixed on the road, knuckles white against the steering wheel, while Ross stared out the window, wondering if they were driving to their deaths.

Bill had been in a worse state than before. The visions, he’d said, still came and went, but he’d seen her kill the two men — every gory detail. After that, the images had faded. He figured she’d gone back to the forest.

But there was one thing Bill was certain of.

“She... she’s getting stronger. I can feel it,” he had said between desperate sobs, his whole body shaking yet rigid with terror. “Much, much stronger. Lord help us.”

Ross rubbed her forehead as the car climbed the winding hill toward the edge of the forest, nestled at the foot of the mountain. How Bill could possibly know she was getting stronger was beyond her, but she believed him. She couldn’t explain it, but there was no denying the connection between Bill and the Fauxra. And as much as she dreaded it, the forest might be their only shot at stopping this thing.

They parked near the path at the entrance — a tight space where the pines were less densely packed than elsewhere. Vickers popped the trunk and handed her a shotgun, along with enough ammo to start a war.
“Please tell me you’ve fired one of these before,” he said, his tone almost exasperated.
“Of course I have,” Ross shot back, indignant. “It was part of my training.”
Vickers leaned in, his voice dropping. “Well, I hope I don’t need to tell you this is nothing like training. That thing that tried to kill us in the hospital? It’s out here. And, newsflash, it still wants to fucking kill us. Let’s make sure we kill it first, okay?”
Ross gave a firm nod and cocked the shotgun, more to prove a point than anything. He might be a patronizing asshole, but he sure had a way with words. And the message was clear: kill or be killed.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered. “Lead the way.”

*****

The morning light vanished as they moved deeper into the forest, the pines forming a dense canopy. A thin veil of mist weaved through the trees, closing in on them until they could barely see the path.

The hairs on the back of Ross’ neck tingled as she stared into the thickening fog. It was too quiet here; the only sounds were their footsteps, muffled by the damp ground. Where are all the animals? It wasn’t just the Fauxra that scared her; it was this whole place. It was impossible to decide if the forest was watching them, or keeping something from them — something she didn’t want to discover.

Vickers nudged her, causing her to jump. “Keep moving, and stay close to me,” he muttered. His voice was low but stern. His mood had changed too; his eyes were wide, unblinking, and she noticed his grip on the shotgun had tightened. Was his hand shaking?

The sooner they got out of here, the better.

Ross walked on, her boots sinking into the rain-soaked ground. She kept her eyes on the narrow strip of path, what little she could make out. No more staring into the trees. She couldn’t help but think of the victims — their eyes missing, their insides scooped out.

The thought of ending up like them terrified her, but there was something worse: letting it happen to anyone else. They had to find a way to kill this thing before it slaughtered half the town. Either a clue to defeat it, or a trail leading to its lair so they could take it down together. That’s what they were here for — that was their job.

Something caught her eye, shimmering on the ground. She marched over and picked it up, wiping the dirt and leaves from it. A pair of glasses — old and worn, with thick, black rims.

“Did Derek or Bill wear glasses?” she asked, turning to Vickers.

But Vickers was gone.

For a second, she stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat. Her imagination spun wildly — the Fauxra, watching them from high up in the trees, snatching Vickers in an instant, and now waiting to turn its attention to her.

No. Calm down.

She blinked hard, pushing back the panic. Vickers couldn’t have gone far; he’d been right beside her, only a few feet away on the path. The path? She looked down, her heart skipping a beat.

The path was gone, swallowed by the mist.

“Vickers?” she called, trying to sound steady but barely daring to raise her voice. The trees loomed over her, swaying slightly in a breeze she couldn’t feel. No, not swaying. Moving.

She rubbed her eyes, convinced she was imagining it. But no — the forest was alive. Trees were shifting, their roots quietly pulling up and crawling over the ground, branches twisting and bending as if they were alive. And then, just as suddenly as they moved, they stopped, freezing in place like they’d been caught.

This place didn’t want them to find the Fauxra.

And she wasn’t sure it wanted them to find their way out either.

Ross’ pulse raced as she inched forward, her senses screaming at her. Twigs snapped underfoot, and every noise felt too loud. She glanced over her shoulder, certain the trees were watching, waiting to seize her the moment she made a mistake. Staying in one spot wouldn’t help though; she had to keep moving, find the path, and find Vickers.

“Vickers?” she called again, a bit louder.

“Ross?” Vickers shouted, his voice distant but clear.

Relief washed over her. She picked up the pace, hurrying through the shifting trees toward the sound of his voice. Her movements became more frantic, the uneasy feeling of being hunted gnawing at her insides.

“Vickers! I’m over here!” she called, louder now, her heart hammering.

“Ross!” came Vickers’ voice again, much closer this time. But something wasn’t right.

She rounded a bend, expecting to see him standing there, but there was only more mist and trees. No Vickers. Her breathing quickened. The forest pressed in tighter, as if it had swallowed him whole.

Smack!

Something slammed into her side, knocking her hard against a tree. She gasped, scrambling on the ground for her weapon, vision blurred. Her fingers brushed against cold metal — her gun. She tried to grab it, but something stopped her.

A foot.

A bare, dirty foot.

“Ross...” The voice came again, but it wasn’t Vickers. It was distorted, raspy, inhuman.

Before she could react, the Fauxra was on her. Ross cried out in agony as its claws sunk into her arms, hauling her to her feet and pinning her against the tree.

“Ross...” it whispered, almost playfully, toying with her. Its face was hidden beneath a tangled mass of long, dark hair, but its jagged smile was unmistakable — wide, gleaming, and filled with a hunger that made Ross’ stomach churn. A clawed hand reached for her eyes.

Hex’s bizarre advice flashed through her mind. It felt absurd — insane, even — but it was the only chance she had.

“You… you’re so… beautiful,” Ross stammered, barely able to force the words out. They felt wrong, clumsy, pathetic.

The Fauxra’s hand froze, inches from her face. Its smile faltered, mouth hanging open in confusion.

Ross’ heart pounded. Did that actually work?

“So… so gorgeous,” she said, voice shaking. “Sexy, even.”

The creature’s eyes softened. It lowered its gaze, almost bashful.

Was Hex right?

“I think you’re amazing,” Ross whispered, disbelief creeping into her tone.

The Fauxra hissed. And then, to Ross’ horror, the its smile returned, wider than before. It lifted a finger, gently stroking her cheek, the claw leaving a thin, stinging scratch. It licked a drop of her blood from its finger, its long, reptilian tongue dancing in delight.

Please, she thought, just let me go.

A voice, this time a welcome one, rang out behind her. “Hey!” Vickers yelled.

Relief washed over her as Vickers emerged from the mist, his aim dead-set on the creature. “Let her go, you creepy cunt!”

The Fauxra’s smile vanished. With a low growl, it released Ross… and dived at Vickers.

Vickers was ready. He fired, missing the creature by an inch, the shotgun blast tearing a hole in a nearby tree. The Fauxra dodged another shot, its lithe body twisting as it vanished into the mist, scurrying back into the shadowy depths of the forest. They were safe for now.

Ross got to her feet as Vickers stormed over to her, his face fuming. “I fucking told you to stay close to me!” The anger in his voice was mixed with panic and fear.

“I tried to!” Ross protested.

“Yeah, not hard enough. Too busy daydreaming, staring into the trees, waiting for that fucking thing to kill—”

“The forest was moving!”

Vickers' face softened, but his jaw remained tight, and his grip on the shotgun didn’t loosen. He stepped closer, his voice quieter but carrying the same sharp intensity. “What do you mean?”

Ross sighed, feeling as stupid as she did when she tried to flirt with the Fauxra. “I… I saw the trees move around me.” She shrugged. “I know it sounds stupid, but I swear I saw it.”

Vickers stared at her, his eyes unblinking, searching her face for something. Ross couldn't tell if he was about to laugh at her or admit he'd seen it too. The silence dragged, making her feel more and more like she was going nuts.

At last, Vickers let out a breath through his nose and turned, muttering as he started walking away. “Come on, let’s head back to the car before that thing decides to take another pop at us.”

The Fauxra

She watched the sun set from the branches of a tall pine, licking her fingers and savoring the delicious tang of blood on her tongue. The words of the human, the one they called Ross, played over and over in her mind like a sweet melody.

You’re so beautiful.

Beautiful. The word struck a chord inside her, one she hadn’t known existed. Warmth — alien, uncomfortable warmth — filled her chest, and her eyes grew wet. A human had called her beautiful.

But as the hours passed, doubt crept in. Ross was beautiful herself, the most beautiful human she’d ever seen. Her golden hair, her emerald eyes, the soft curves of her body…

Had she really meant it? Fear had tainted the human’s scent when she said it. How could something so perfect find her attractive? I’m hideous… an abomination.

It was time to get closer to the humans. Not to hunt, but to learn more about their ways. Integrate with them. She could mimic their appearance now, enough to fool them. Their language still tripped her up, but she had time to improve. And her clothing — this long white coat wasn’t right. Maybe the garments from that hiker she’d killed would suffice.

Her stomach fluttered at the thought of Ross. Maybe she’d get the chance to speak to her again. Find out if she really meant what she said.

*****

The sign above the door read “The Hollow Inn.”

She stepped inside, immediately overthinking her movements. Was she walking too fast? Was her expression friendly? Did her hair look okay? She’d washed it in the stream, and tried to imitate Ross’ style, but it would never be as beautiful.

The place was empty. Just one human, female, behind a counter. The woman smiled. “Hey, sugar. If it’s food you’re after, the kitchen’s closed, I’m afraid.”

She grinned awkwardly, trying to mimic her expression. “No! Food.” she blurted, the tone coming out wrong, too harsh.

The woman’s brows furrowed but she kept smiling. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No.” She paused. That was the first word she’d learned from humans. She remembered their shrieks, echoing through the forest. Closely followed by 'help.' Maybe she should try that one. “Help?”

The woman blinked, leaning forward. “Oh… you’re looking for work?”

Work? The word was unfamiliar, but she nodded. Humans seemed to like that gesture.

“Well, I’m sure we can get you a few hours here. Cash in hand, of course. We’re always busy, and the tips aren’t bad. I’m Loretta, by the way. What’s your name?”

Name? She thought quickly. “Ross.” No, not the same as the beautiful human. “Ross…a. Rosa.”

“Nice to meet you, Rosa,” Loretta said, offering her hand. “Welcome to The Hollow Inn.”

She mimicked the gesture, taking Loretta’s hand stiffly. “Welcome to The Hollow Inn,” she parroted.