Not quite Lucy

The microwave pinged and I jerked awake. I hadn't really been asleep, just dozing off. The television was still on, showing some political question time, and it was dark outside. I got up off the couch, which was old and leaking stuffing where the fabric on the arms had worn through, and crossed the living in two quick strides to close the curtains. I had just pulled them shut when I realised that I'd not put anything in the microwave.

So it couldn't have pinged.

I wasn't alone in the house, of course. My daughter, Lucy, still lived with me, but she had been caught by the hollow men six months ago and had lost her soul to them. She still existed -- I'd been taught not to say lived at the support group -- but she was like a robot. She breathed, she obeyed instructions, but her eyes were vacant and watched anything that moved only because it was moving. She had no volition, no will of her own, and she could only answer questions about things she had known before she was taken. She had no conversation. She had been 12, and could never mentally age from that.

She couldn't have used the microwave unless someone had told her to.

I went cold all over. It started at the top of my head and seemed to wash down over me like a cold shower. My chest felt tight, and I turned around slowly, holding my breath, scared as to what I would see in the kitchen doorway. It was empty, though the light was on, and I could hear footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor. I exhaled slowly, and made myself walk to the kitchen at my normal pace, tense and ready to strike out at whoever was invading my home. I had to walk past the couch, and I picked up the tv remote control so that I'd have something in my hand. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was something I could hit out with.

I stepped warily into the kitchen, my head flicking from side to side quickly, looking for someone hiding behind a door, looking for a hollow man with his arms stretched wide waiting for me to step into his embrace. They couldn't attack, they never made any attempt to touch someone, but if you touched them they could steal you in an eyeblink. The kitchen was empty, save for Lucy sitting at the breakfast bar, with a cup of steaming milk in front of her.

"Lucy?" I said, dreading the answer. Had my daughter really come back to me? Had her soul returned to her body, and if so, what condition was it in? She looked up at me at the sound of her name, and her eyes focused! She tilted her head back, her brown eyes narrowed very slightly as she appraised me, and she pursed her lips. My heart raced in my chest; she was back!

"Lucy?" she said. "No, I'm afraid not. I'm Adele. Lucy doesn't live here any more."

I heard the words but they didn't really register.

"Lucy, you're back!" I said, dropping the remote control. It clattered on the floor, the back came off and the batteries rolled under the fridge. "You've come back to me!"

"No, I am sorry," said the girl. She picked a teaspoon off the counter and stirred her milky drink. "I don't know what's happened to Lucy, though I can guess. But I'm Adele. And I don't really know what I'm doing here. I thought I was dying. I know I was in hospital less than an hour ago. And a lot older than this."

"Adele?" I said. "You've stolen my daughter's body?"

"I think that would require intent," said the girl. "I've no idea how I ended up here. It's a good body though, I like it. The last one lasted 85 years, and I think this one could do a good century if I look after it."

I leant against the doorframe and started crying.

Hollow Men

As I came home from work the sun was setting and fog was just starting to drift in, adding a haze to the air and making everything in the distance seem a little fuzzy. I was just relaxing, slowing my pace and enjoying the sunset, when I saw the hollow man standing at the edge of the kerb, a little way away from a bus stop. He was watching the road as though waiting for a bus, but everytime someone came close to him he tensed, drawing himself up stiffly, waiting to see if they would brush by him, or accidentally touch him. He had that slightly odd sharpness to him that the Hollow Men have, he stood out from the world slightly more than real people do. I shivered.

Other people had noticed him too and were keeping their distance. Mothers pulled their children in close and held their hands, and people nudged each other, nodding towards him. Several people crossed the road to stay away, and the bus-stop was emptying as people decided they'd rather walk than risk the Hollow Man getting on to the same bus as them. He didn't seem to notice though, he just kept staring off into the distance as though waiting for the bus, and tensing if anyone seemed to be getting close.

I'd walked past him when I heard the sudden screech of brakes and, some moments later, a heavy thump. I turned and saw that he'd gone out into the road and been hit by a car. The driver was invisible in the air-bag that had deployed, a woman in a red coat lolled in the passenger seat, and people were stopping and looking. I saw a middle-aged woman put down her shopping, two white plastic carrier bags, looking concerned, and start out into the road to the scene of the accident.

Blood roared in my ears and my heart thumped in my chest. My legs had locked in place and wouldn't move, and there was a thin grey ring around my vision that seemed to getting thicker and cutting out the world around me. I could hear my breathing, suddenly ragged, and then I could hear a little girl's voice screaming in my head, no words, just incoherent yelps of pain and fear. I could do nothing but stare, unable to shout and warn her, as the middle-aged woman reached out a hand to the Hollow Man, thinking to check on him and see if he was ok. I heard a shout from somewhere behind me, someone pushed roughly past me, cursing me, and my insensible legs collapsed beneath me. It was too late though, she'd touched him, and her face went from tired, lined, and concerned, to slack and vacant in the space of a heart-beat.

As the Hollow Man pulled her soul from her body the paralysis that had gripped me released. I clambered shakily back to my feet. My face was cold and wet with sweat and my hands were trembling. I could still hear the screaming in my head; the little girl had been my daughter before the Hollow Men had taken her. I fumbled in the pocket of my coat for the deck of cards, and pulling it out, I forced myself to walk unsteadily across the road to where the Hollow Man was now standing up.

I couldn't tell he was a Hollow Man anymore, now that he had stolen a soul. He looked normal, looked as tired as the woman had just a few moments ago, and a little confused. This, I knew, was because he was trying to assimilate the memories and experiences of a lifetime; it's much easier for them to assimilate a child with their lesser knowledge of the world. I had about thirty seconds or so before he started discarding everything that wasn't obviously useful and would react to protect himself again.

I pulled a single card from the deck, and pushed it into his hand. He looked down at it, it was the three of diamonds. He looked up at me, his mouth forming a question, but I turned away, putting the cards back into my pocket and wiping my fingers on my coat, rubbing them vigorously until they didn't feel greasy any more. The cards were impregnated with Acromycin, a distillate of a fungus that was lethal to the Hollow Men. It was quite slow acting, and needed time to soak through skin, but he wouldn't think to drop the card until he'd finished the assimilation. By which time another one would be as dead as my daughter.