Page 69 of Hollow

Rain falls lightly against the windowpanes, and the candles I have lit in a row on the sill flicker slightly in a draft, a shield against the dark. The clock on my desk ticks loudly as it has all night, counting down the hours and yet never seeming to move. It was one in the morning, and then it was three in the morning, but now it is two in the morning, and I can’t tell if I’m awake or dreaming.

I dig my nails into my hand until it hurts.

I’m awake.

I am awake, too awake, my brain bouncing around from thought to thought to thought. I think about Brom walking into my classroom this morning. How it pained me more than I thought that he didn’t remember who I was—me, the man who opened his bed to a stranger in need for a few weeks, a stranger on the run. And how now, whatever Brom had been running from had brought him back here somehow, I was sure of it. None of this makes any sense unless you involve witchcraft, but if the Sisters brought him back here for some reason, then the question is why? And why did he leave Sleepy Hollow in the first place?

When I can’t come up with any answers, I move on to Kat. My favorite thought. Lovely, beautiful Kat, whose body and soul I feel preternaturally drawn to. I feel like I’m just getting started with her, that I was just about to plunge headfirst into the abyss for her, ready to drown in all she was offering.

But now I don’t know how to proceed. I want to proceed—I want her in all my dark and deviant ways—but with Brom now stepping back into the picture, that surely complicates matters. There’s no doubt this was the man who once brought her pleasure, just as he had for me, and perhaps a man she was in love with. Maybe still is. Would she even want me now that he’s back? Will I be discarded? It wouldn’t be the first time.

And then I think about Sarah. I think about Kat’s strange witch of a mother and how different she is from the other sisters. She barely even looks like them, doesn’t seem to have much love for them, seems separate from them in nearly every way. But she’s a woman with secrets nonetheless.

Staying at her house overnight, I was bombarded by so many emotions, ones that seemed to belong to the house itself, a house with a soul. I felt love, a strong love between a father and a daughter, so unlike the one I had with my own father. But I also felt fear. I felt so much fear hidden in the dust that’s swept under the beds. I felt the fear Kat’s father had for Sarah, something that didn’t surprise me considering Sarah’s cold and controlling demeanor, but also fear that belonged to Sarah. Whether that fear is for Kat or for her sisters, I’m not sure. But there is something off about the Van Tassels. Something very, very off. And I’m not even sure Kat is aware of it.

My eyes finally close, and my thoughts drift back to Brom’s dark eyes, to Kat’s blue ones, to the inhuman voice inside Brom that was ready to do one’s bidding.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I open my eyes, sitting up straight.

It’s back.

Am I dreaming?

I dig my nails into my skin again, droplets of blood welling to the surface.

I’m not dreaming.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I hold my breath and listen, shaking my hand, a splatter of blood falling to the bedcover.

Thump.

It’s right outside the door. I can feel it there, the energy seeping in. I can almost see it like black tar flowing underneath the doorframe, coming across the floor toward me. Wanting me. Craving me.

Knock.

I jump, my heart bucking wildly.

She’s here. She’s here.

Vivienne Henry is here, and she’s knocking on my door.

Knock.

“Oh Jesus,” I murmur, my words sounding far away, like I spoke them in another lifetime.

Knock.