The silence in the glass house stretched into eternity. Elara held her breath, virtually waiting for Lisa's response, for the resolution of the uncertain pact Silas had proposed. The girl, oblivious to the tension looming over her, sat in her velvet chair, the porcelain doll on her lap, her gaze lost in nothingness.
Silas, too, remained silent, expectant, watching Lisa and Elara with his empty eyes, like a deformed spectator at a macabre play whose ending was yet to be decided. The atmosphere in the doll garden had become even more oppressive and charged, as if time itself had stopped, awaiting the crucial decision.
Suddenly, Lisa blinked. A slight, almost imperceptible movement, but enough to break the spell of immobility that imprisoned her. She slowly raised her head, and for the first time since Elara had seen her in the glass house, her eyes focused, leaving behind the lost, empty stare.
Her eyes stared straight through the glass at Elara with surprising intensity, a spark of awareness and determination lighting her pale, lifeless face. In her gaze, Elara saw fear, yes, but also resolve, an inner strength that seemed to defy the darkness surrounding her.
Lisa opened her mouth, and with a faint but clear voice that echoed in the virtual silence of the glass house, she uttered a single word: "Garden."
Elara felt her heart swell with relief and hope. Garden. Lisa had chosen the garden. She had rejected Silas's "glass perfection," opting for "broken freedom," for an imperfect and risky life, but a life nonetheless. She had chosen freedom.
A subtle change occurred in the mental environment. The oppressive atmosphere lightened slightly, as if a shadow had been lifted from the doll garden. The reddish light flickered more intensely, and a low murmur, like a collective sigh, ran through the rows of mutilated dolls, as if celebrating Lisa's decision, as if the "broken liberation" was, in its own way, a form of hope in that place of despair.
Silas remained motionless for a moment, slowly processing Lisa's words. Then, a complex expression, a mixture of disappointment and resignation, crossed his distorted face. He nodded slowly, his head bowed, as if accepting the girl's decision, even if he didn't fully understand it.
"Garden…" Silas repeated, his whisper barely audible, "She chooses… the garden." ¿He reached out again toward the glass house, and this time, his gesture wasn't one of possession, but of… surrender? Release? With a slow, deliberate motion, he withdrew his hand from the glass, and instantly, the transparent house began to fade, to blur, to dissolve into the reddish gloom, as if its very existence depended on Silas's will, and that will had been withdrawn.
Lisa blinked again, and this time, ¿a look of confusion and… awakening? appeared on her face. She looked around, as if becoming aware of her surroundings again, and her eyes fell on Elara, a silent question in her gaze.
Elara smiled softly at her, immense relief washing over her. "You're free, Lisa," she said, her tone soft and comforting. "You've chosen the garden. Now, we can go home."
She reached out a hand to Lisa, through the mental space, hoping the girl would take it, hoping she could guide her back to reality, away from Silas Thorne's maze of nightmares. The decision had been made. The choice in the crystal had been made. Now, there remained only the even more difficult task of bringing Lisa back to the real world, and facing the consequences of her foray into the mind of a killer.
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