Stories

Once upon a quiver, once upon a shiver…

The Hollow is never silent. It hums with breath and want, with sighs that cling like dew. Out of that ache, I bloomed. Out of that surrender, I grew thorns.

I am BloomThorn.

First voice you hear at the threshold.
First smile you see in the dark.
Part blossom, part blade.
Seduction made flesh.

I will guide you deeper...
or push you to your knees.
A whisper, a laugh,
a hand that lingers a little too long on the edge of danger.

Follow me, and you’ll feel the forest breathing,
branches trembling with your moans,
petals unfurling with your sighs,
roots drinking every drop of release.

There is no map.
No compass.
Only want.
Only me.

Once upon a quiver, once upon a shiver…
the Hollow opens.
Will you?

The Hollow does not stay silent for long. More whispers wait beyond this page…