BAMBI

The Hollow Beckons

The Crimson Hollow unfolded like the jaws of a sleeping beast. Vast, silent, and waiting.

From the ridge above, Bambi studied the sunken valley that had haunted the edge of her grandfather’s maps and journal entries. A place of myth and whispered warnings. Mist crept along the jungle floor, curling like fingers across fallen statues and broken stone roads.

In the heart of the Hollow, the ruins of an ancient temple stood, half-swallowed by vines and time. Its spire was broken, shattered by something powerful long ago. Whatever had been buried here didn’t want to stay buried.

“They’re ahead of us,” Samson said, adjusting his pack as he observed the rival crew’s tents near the treeline. “But they’ve set up camp. That gives us a chance to enter the ruins unseen.”

“There’s no way Elena doesn’t know we’re coming,” Bambi muttered. “She knows me too well.”

“She thinks she knows you,” Calder corrected. “Time to prove her wrong.”

Bambi gave him a look, one that lingered a moment too long before turning away. Calder had been getting under her skin lately, in the worst and best ways. And Samson, with his haunted calm and quiet wisdom, was no less tangled in her thoughts. It wasn’t just about choosing who to trust anymore.

It was about choosing who she was, and who she wanted to be when this was all over.

If she made it out.

They reached the cave entrance just before noon, hidden beneath a moss-covered slope behind a fallen obelisk. The mouth was narrow, almost invisible from above, and marked with another etched crimson hourglass. Only this one was broken down the middle.

Bambi brushed her fingers across it.

“What does it mean when the hourglass is cracked?” she asked.

Samson crouched to inspect it. “Time’s run out.”

“Charming,” Calder muttered. “After you, fearless leader.”

The descent into the cave was steep and silent. The deeper they went, the colder it became, unnaturally so. The kind of cold that clung to your bones and made your breath feel too loud.

Their lanterns revealed old carvings on the walls: spirals, eyes, bleeding stars. Warnings, if Samson’s muttering translations were correct.

Bambi felt the pressure build the further they moved.

Something was waiting down here.

After nearly an hour of navigating narrow corridors and treacherous ledges, the tunnel opened into a chamber. A domed, underground vault filled with statues of cloaked figures with no faces.

Calder exhaled slowly. “Okay. I’ve seen creepy. This is next level.”

Samson stepped forward, inspecting the walls. “They were guardians. Silent monks of the Carmine Order. Legend says they took vows of silence so the treasure wouldn’t tempt their thoughts.”

“And now they’re stone?” Bambi asked.

“Or worse,” Samson muttered.

She didn’t want to know what “worse” meant.

As they crossed the chamber, a soft click echoed beneath Bambi’s boot.

“Stop!” Samson shouted.

But it was too late.

A section of the floor dropped beneath them.

Bambi fell into darkness.

When she landed, it wasn’t hard, more like she slid down a chute and rolled into a narrow corridor. Her shoulder throbbed from the impact. She groaned and reached for her flashlight.

“Bambi!” Calder’s voice echoed above.

“I’m okay!” she called up.

“I’ll find another way down!” Samson shouted.

Bambi stood, brushing off dirt, and looked ahead. The corridor stretched forward, covered in cobwebs and dust, untouched for centuries.

As she walked, symbols along the wall began to glow faintly red.

Not from her flashlight. From within.

The hourglass. The star. The bleeding eye.

And then she heard it.

A voice.

Low. Male. Whispering.

Not speaking to her.

Speaking through her.

“You were never meant to find it. You were meant to guard it.”

She froze. “Who’s there?”

Silence.

And then a glow flared ahead, an antechamber lit by a brazier that shouldn’t still be burning. At the center was a stone altar and atop it, a scroll sealed in red wax.

Cautiously, Bambi stepped forward. Her hand hovered over the scroll.

The wax bore the same symbol from her grandfather’s journal.

The Crimson Hourglass.

With a deep breath, she broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

It wasn’t just ancient scripture. It was a letter.

And it was addressed to her.

“My dearest Bambi,

If you are reading this, then time has already begun to collapse around you. I never wanted you to be part of this. I left clues hoping you’d stay away. But I also knew your heart. Stubborn, brave, searching.

You were always meant to be the key. Not to power. But to judgment. The Carmine isn’t just a treasure. It’s a door. One that should never be opened by hands greedy or unsure.

You must choose the guardian. You must know that not all who walk beside you are worthy.

Forgive me for everything.

Grandfather”

Her breath caught in her throat.

He hadn’t abandoned her. He had been trying to protect her.

A loud crash echoed behind her.

She spun

And came face to face with Elena.

They stared at each other in the flickering light of the brazier. Elena’s face was dirt-streaked and cold, but her eyes glittered with triumph.

“Been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” Elena said, stepping closer.

Bambi backed toward the altar. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you,” Elena snapped. “But here we are. You and your precious birthright.”

“You stole from me.”

“You abandoned me,” Elena snarled. “When your grandfather shut me out, you didn’t even ask why. You just assumed you were special and I wasn’t.”

“I didn’t know!” Bambi said, her voice rising. “I didn’t know he even”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Elena hissed. “The treasure will choose me.”

She stepped forward, reaching for the scroll on the altar.

But Bambi was faster.

She grabbed the parchment and pulled a small blade from her belt. “Don’t. You don’t know what this is.”

“I know enough,” Elena said, eyes burning. “I know the Carmine power answers to blood. And I’ve bled more than you ever have.”

Suddenly, Calder burst through a collapsed side tunnel, panting, weapon raised.

“Back away from her,” he said, stepping between the women.

“Cute,” Elena said, rolling her eyes. “Still playing the hero, Blaze?”

Samson entered behind him, weapon drawn, but his eyes locked on the scroll in Bambi’s hands.

“What is that?” he asked.

Bambi looked at them all. Elena, Calder, Samson.

The memory of her grandfather’s words echoed in her mind: “You must choose the guardian. Not all who walk beside you are worthy.”

She knew what it meant now.

This treasure didn’t need to be claimed.

It needed to be protected.

And one of the people here with her wasn’t who they said they were.