Hollow

The mansion was old and decrepit; it too retained its hue. The wood planks that formed the wall appeared dark blue and molded. The shingles on the roof were barely attached. It creaked and moaned from the faint breeze. The windows has moss growing on both sides, blocking most of the view from either way.

“I love reminding you of the fact that this is all coming out of your head.” Bad teased, crossing his arms and leaning against a street lamp.

“You’re so comforting.” I announced, not breaking eye contact with the front door of the house.

“I hate to say that he’s right,” Good said from my other side, “but he is…”

“You’re not helping.” I hissed.

“Well,” he said as he looked down the street, where more houses had materialized, “you’re not the only one who wants to meet the new neighbors.”

“So we start with the creepy old house, why?” I asked.

“Girl Scouts always start selling cookies at the creepiest houses so that they don’t have to go back.” Bad said with a matter-of-fact tone. We both looked at him, confused.

“How do you know this?” Good asked.

“I don’t.” Bad smiled. “I’m making this shit up as I go.”

“Fine.” I ignored him. “Let’s get this over with.”

I took a deep breath in, and started walking forward as I exhaled. The stairs leading up the porch moaned underneath my weight. The door had a rusted gold knocker on it. I lifted it up, and it peeled the wood as it detached. I knocked. I waited. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer.

“You came up with it,” Bad stated from the bottom of the stairs, “just open it.”

I grabbed the door handle with hesitation, and pushed it open. The door creaked open, to show that the inside was no cleaner than the outside. The entry hallway went far to the back of the house; a staircase went up the left side, and entryways dotted the right side. But at the far end of the hallway, a green figure hobbled away from me. As the door creaked open, he turned sharply. His eye sockets were empty. He had no hair, and the suit he was wearing was torn and dusty. He opened his mouth far and shrieked. He charged full-speed towards me, and I slammed the door shut, where he ran into the other side.

“What the fuck was that?!” I screamed at Bad.”

“That there,” he grinned, “is Hollow.”

“Like,” Good started, edging away from the door, “Sleepy Hollow?”

“False.” Bad buzzed. “That, well. I actually have no idea how to describe that to you.”

“So I’m guessing that he came out of you then?” I breathed.

“You bet.” He stated. “I actually think that he’s my favorite so far.”

“We’ve only been to one house.” Good corrected him.

“Yeah?” Bad carried on. “What’s your point?”

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell that was or not?!” I shouted.

“Why don’t you just listen?” Bad said through a painted smile.

I put my ear up to the door, and I heard sobbing from the other side. I heard it mumbling under its breath too. I gently opened the door, and peered through the small opening. The top of its head was pushed up against the door, and it looked in my direction. Its mouth was still unusually agape, but it didn’t move with his words.

“Please do not abandon me.” It whispered harshly. He didn’t sound like a beast. He sounded like an actor, trained to perform these lines for years. “For I have already abandoned myself.”

“I told you he was a poetic little shit.” Bad said from behind me.

“For you have abandoned me as well!” Hollow spoke, clearly to try to get to Bad. “Why did you leave me here?!”

“Not my fault.” Bad replied, audibly patting me on the shoulder. “You can blame this one for that.”

“But why must you have abandoned me here, with him?!” Hollow echoed.

“What?” Bad stammered. “What do you mean him?!”

“You abandoned me,” Hollow said once more, “with him…”

We could hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I shut the door, and leaned up against it.

“Okay,” I said to Bad, “you didn’t tell me about that.”

“That time, I genuinely didn’t know.” He stuttered, leaning up against the porch railing.

“Who’s there?” Good called out.

“It’s just me.” A squeaky voice called out from the other side.

“What?” I mumbled.

“I said it's just me.” The voice said once more.

“Oh,” Good stopped, “I think I have an idea of who this is.”

I cracked the door open once more. Hollow was still lying where he was before. But at the bottom of the staircase, was a small child, clutching onto a teddy bear in one hand, and rubbing his eye with the other. It was me. I was looking at my younger self.

“That,” Good started, looking through the window next to the door, “is Youth.”

“Okay,” I grumbled, “that much I could have gathered, but thanks for the help!”

“What are you doing Mr. Hollow?” Youth asked, looking down at the collapsed figure.

“It is simple my dear child;” he bellowed, his mouth still motionless, “I have given up. I have given in with every regard to life.”

“What’s a regard?” Youth asked.

“You will learn, in time child.” Hollow replied.

I shut the door, and looked up at Good and Bad. I raised an eyebrow, and they both shrugged.

“This is the kind of crap I have to expect more of from you two?”

“Uh…” Bad said, looking down the street at the new houses.

“Yes.” Good answered for him. Also looking down at the line of houses. “Legitimately, there aren’t that many more.”

“Oh you’re so full of shit.” Bad cut in. “There are plenty more.”

“Should I be expecting more like this?” I asked the two of them, holding my thumb up to the door I was sitting against.

“Well I know a couple of guys who are total assholes.” Bad answered, placing his hands on his hips.

“I don’t.” Good announced.

I could hear Youth asking an endless stream of questions, and Hollow weeping from behind me. I sighed, got up, and continued to walk down the street.