The structure of bone and flesh loomed before Elara, twisted and menacing. She hesitated for a moment, but urgency drove her forward. Lisa was still out there, somewhere, depending on her to decipher the labyrinths of this diseased mind.
He moved forward cautiously, circling the grotesque sculpture. As he drew closer, he noticed new details. Hanging from the bony branches were not only dark, indefinite shapes, but also… cages?
Yes, small cages of rusty wire, precariously suspended from the fleshy branches. Inside some of them, something stirred slightly, faint shadows fluttering behind the rusty metal.
She approached one of the cages and squinted to see better in the reddish gloom. A stifled gasp escaped her virtual lips. Butterflies. Dying butterflies, fluttering weakly against the bars of their metal prisons. Their wings, once vibrant with color, were now withered and torn, covered in a dark, opaque dust. Some already lay motionless at the bottom of the cages, dried-out and fragile corpses.
A wave of nausea and sadness washed over her.
This place… was a chamber of horrors, a repository of suffering and cruelty. Silas Thorne's mind was a sick place, a withered garden where beauty was corrupted and life slowly extinguished.
Suddenly, a sudden movement startled her. One of the fleshy structures that formed the "walls" of the space shook violently, as if something were trying to break through from the other side. A guttural sound, a low, threatening growl, echoed in the space.
Elara instinctively stepped back, her heart pounding. What was happening? Was Silas… reacting to her presence?
The fleshy structure tore, opening like a festering wound. From the gap emerged a grotesque, deformed figure, a monstrous caricature of a human being. Pale, sickly skin, veins bulging beneath a translucent epidermis, sunken, dark eyes like empty wells. It was a representation… of Silas? But distorted, corrupted by the darkness of his own mind.
The creature stared at her, its head tilted unnaturally to one side. Then, a slow, eerie smile spread across its distorted face, revealing needle-sharp, yellowish teeth.
"You have entered my garden," the creature said, its voice a raspy, sickly whisper, "Welcome, intruder. ¿Do you like my butterflies?"
Elara felt a chill run down her virtual spine. This was Silas. A manifestation of her tortured mind, a reflection of her cruelty and madness. And he was staring straight at her, with a smile that chilled her blood.
She couldn't show fear. She shouldn't. Lisa depended on her. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure.
"I'm here to find Lisa," Elara said, her voice firm despite the internal tremor. "Tell me where she is."
The creature let out a quiet, stifled laugh, a sound that made her skin crawl. "¿Lisa… My butterflies are more interesting, don't you think? They're so… fragile." It reached out a misshapen hand, with long, bony fingers, toward one of the butterfly cages.
Elara felt impatience and anger begin to boil inside her. She wasn't going to let this monstrosity distract her. She had to focus on her goal.
"Lisa is an innocent child," Elara said, raising her voice. "She's not a butterfly for your collection. Tell me where you have her."
The creature tilted its head thoughtfully, as if considering her words. Then the creepy smile widened even further. "Innocent… Everyone is innocent, at first. Then… they break. Like my butterflies."
He turned back toward the cages, completely ignoring her. Elara felt a pang of frustration and despair. She was trapped in a mental maze, talking to a deformed shadow of a real man. How would she find Lisa here?
But she couldn't give up. She had to keep exploring this garden of horrors, searching for any clue, any hint that would lead her to the missing girl. Even if she had to face the monsters lurking in Silas Thorne's mind.
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