The Hollowed / Season 1, Episode 9
Echoes of Unease
Jake’s boots scuffed against the polished concrete of the Wellness Hub’s lower corridor, the echo swallowed by the hum of unseen machinery. His knee throbbed, a dull pulse that matched the flicker of the overhead fluorescents, casting sharp shadows across the sterile white walls. Sweat beaded on his neck despite the chill seeping from the floor, and his fingers flexed instinctively, itching for something to hold—a hammer, a pick, anything to ground him against the creeping wrongness of this place. He’d slipped out of Group 3’s observation room ten minutes ago, feigning a bathroom break after the injection standoff with Dr. Calloway. Her eyes had bored into him, cold as the steel needle she’d held, and he’d felt the weight of the wristband tighten, its tiny red light blinking like a predator’s eye. He wasn’t going back. Not yet. Not until he figured out what the hell was happening to him—to all of them. The pain in his knee had shifted since he’d stopped the pills, less a joint ache now and more a crawling sensation, like something burrowed deep was trying to claw its way out. And the mirrors… Christ, he couldn’t think about the mirrors without his stomach turning. Last night, in the communal washroom, his reflection had smiled—a slow, lopsided grin while his own mouth stayed flat....