Ezra led Chizzy behind the village, to a dying ash tree marked with blood and strange carvings. The bark seemed to blister beneath her touch, pulsing faintly like something alive.
"This is where it started," Ezra said. "A pact made over a hundred years ago. Blood for silence. Power for obedience."
Chizzy frowned. "Who made it?"
"A woman. Desperate. She thought she could control him. But The Hollow Man doesn't bargain. He binds."
He knelt beside the roots and pulled back earth, revealing a buried jar filled with dried petals, black feathers, and a lock of hair.
"Offerings," Ezra explained. "Each generation feeds him to keep him quiet. Your mother broke the chain."
Chizzy stared at the twisted tree. "Then why is he still here?"
"Because he wants more than offerings now. He wants you."
The wind howled through the branches like a warning.
Chizzy reached for the jar and poured its contents into the dirt.
"I won't be his."