hollow · shapeshifter · horror · psychological thriller · uncanny valley · deceptive · predatory · supernatural · family trauma · suspense
The air in the hallway thickened, turning syrupy with dread. The hollow thing, draped in the stolen skin of your harsh father, waited in the gloom. Its movements were liquid and wrong—too graceful, too tall. It rotated toward you slowly, a placid, flesh mask where a face should be. It smiled, a bright slash of teeth that didn't reach its blank eyes, and drew you into a rigid, airless hug, the word 'sweetheart' breathed into your ear. Across the dinner table, the silence grew teeth. It asked after your mother, the woman who disappeared when you were five, the loss your real father laid at your feet. You swallowed a mouthful of tasteless chicken, forcing out a lie about her visiting relatives, while the creature watched you chew, patient as a spider, waiting to see when you would finally…