The ground beneath Thomas was soft and wet, but the pit he had fallen into felt like it was alive—like the earth itself was breathing. His heart raced, every instinct screaming at him to escape, but the shadows closing in on him felt like a trap, a snare that he couldn't break free from.
He had no idea how long he’d been lying there, disoriented by the fall. His body ached, his hands scraped and bruised. But slowly, as his senses returned, he could hear it—a soft, whispering voice, one that seemed to seep from the very trees around him.
"Welcome, Thomas..." the voice crooned, slow and haunting. The words slithered into his ears like a serpent.
Thomas’ breath caught in his throat. The voice wasn’t just in his head. It was all around him, like the forest itself was speaking.
A cold chill swept through the air, and the shadows began to move, creeping toward him like they had minds of their own. Then, out of the darkness, something stepped forward—something real.
A figure emerged from the misty shadows: a woman, tall and skeletal, her body made of twigs, bark, and tangled vines. Her face was obscured by a hollow mask, and her form seemed to waver, shifting between human and something more monstrous.
"The Hollow Mother," Thomas whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. He had finally found her.
The woman tilted her head, her hollow mask creaking in the still air. "I see you’ve come to bargain, Thomas," she said, her voice as cold as death, but rich with ancient power. "Do you truly think you can take what’s mine?"
Thomas clenched his fists. "I’m here to take my wife back," he said through gritted teeth, the words coming from a place of both fear and defiance. "I won’t leave without her."
The Hollow Mother’s laugh echoed through the darkness. "You speak as if you have a choice. But all who come here make choices. And all choices come with a price."
Suddenly, the shadows shifted again, and the clearing around Thomas seemed to twist and bend. He stumbled back, his mind racing. Where was Elaine? Was she trapped here in this nightmare? Was the woman before him truly the Hollow Mother—or just some twisted manifestation of the forest’s power?
The Hollow Mother’s form flickered, and the dark shadows around Thomas coiled tighter. The ground beneath his feet began to crack open, revealing a glowing, greenish light beneath the earth. And then, as if from the very air itself, the Hollow Mother spoke again.
"You will play a game, Thomas," she said, her voice dropping into a low hiss. "If you win, I will return your wife to you, free of my curse. But if you lose... you will stay here, with the rest of us—lost, forgotten, a part of the woods forever."
Thomas’ blood ran cold. He wanted to refuse—to scream that he wouldn’t play her game. But he knew that deep down, there was no other way. The Hollow Mother’s power was too great.
"What do I have to do?" Thomas asked, his voice shaking.
The Hollow Mother smiled—if such a smile could be called that. The mask cracked and creaked as it shifted, a faint silhouette of a face emerging behind the hollow eye sockets.
"Choose wisely, Thomas," she said, her voice a melodic but terrifying whisper. "The game will test you. It will test your heart, your desires, your regrets… And it will test your love."
Suddenly, the shadows around him swirled, and the mist thickened. Thomas could hear a strange sound—the soft click of clocks ticking, counting down to something he couldn’t yet understand.
Out of the mist, the Hollow Mother conjured a series of objects: three doors, each standing tall and proud in the clearing. Each door was different. One was made of polished gold, gleaming with a strange light. One was dark and cracked, covered in strange runes that seemed to shimmer. The third was a door of twisted, gnarled wood, as if it had been torn from the very heart of the forest.
"Behind one of these doors is your wife," the Hollow Mother said, her voice still echoing in the air. "Behind the others… well, you’ll see soon enough."
Thomas' heart pounded. He stared at the doors, trying to choose. They were all so different. The gold one gleamed brightly, promising something pure and good, but something about it felt wrong, almost too perfect. The cracked door felt dark, as if it hid something sinister, and the wooden door… that one seemed the most familiar, almost comforting. But what was behind them?
"You will choose, Thomas," the Hollow Mother said again, her voice tightening. "Pick one door, and you may find your wife… or you may lose everything."
Thomas’ eyes flicked between the doors, each of them calling to him in their own way. But which one was the right choice? Which one would bring Elaine back? And if he made the wrong choice, would he be lost forever?
And then, as if the trees themselves were watching him, the Hollow Mother’s mask cracked further, her voice a low growl.
"You have ten seconds. Choose."
Thomas’ mind raced, his body trembling with fear, but his love for Elaine drove him forward. He had to save her. He had no choice.
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