Thomas’ heart pounded in his chest as the Hollow Mother’s voice echoed through the air, demanding him to make a choice. The mist swirled around the three doors, each one a dark promise, a gamble he couldn’t afford to lose. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to take the right one—the gold one, surely, it was the most beautiful. But something deep inside told him that nothing here was as it seemed.
The seconds seemed to stretch out endlessly.
Ten.
The golden door gleamed too brightly, too perfectly, almost as if it were trying to deceive him with its light.
Nine.
The cracked door whispered to him, the ancient runes shifting in the mist like a chant from another world. It felt wrong—like it held something dark, something that might swallow him whole.
Eight.
And the wooden door, gnarled and twisted like the roots of the forest itself, felt familiar. It felt like home. But that was the danger, wasn’t it? The Hollow Mother was a master of deception, and this could easily be her way of pulling him into a trap, leading him into the deepest darkness of the woods.
Seven.
"Choose!" the Hollow Mother growled, her voice a sharp crack of thunder in the air. "Or the game will be over, and everything will be lost!"
Thomas’ mind raced, the weight of the decision crushing him. He thought of Elaine—his wife, the woman he loved—trapped inside that cursed doll. Was this his chance to bring her back?
And then, a voice—soft, familiar, and desperate—whispered through his mind.
“Daddy… please.”
It was Lily’s voice. It was faint, as if it were being carried on the wind from far away, but it was enough to push him forward. She was waiting for him. He couldn’t fail her, not after everything they had gone through. Not after everything he had promised.
The wooden door.
Without another thought, Thomas rushed forward and placed his hand on the twisted handle, feeling the jagged edges beneath his fingers. He turned it.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing an overwhelming darkness beyond. For a moment, Thomas hesitated. The shadows beckoned, and the air felt cold, unnatural. But there was something else too—something familiar—a faint, comforting warmth that called him to step forward.
He stepped inside.
The door slammed shut behind him, and the world was swallowed by darkness. He was plunged into the depths of the forest, where the air felt damp and heavy. His breath quickened, his pulse racing in his ears as he stumbled forward. He could barely see—just the faintest hint of light far ahead, leading him deeper into the woods.
Then, something shifted.
From the darkness, a figure appeared—a figure that made Thomas’ blood run cold.
It was Elaine.
But not the Elaine he remembered.
Her skin was pale, too pale, her hair wild and tangled, falling in damp strands around her face. Her eyes—those eyes—were empty, hollow, as if the woman he loved had been replaced by something else. She was standing in the center of a clearing, her back to him, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
“Elaine!” Thomas cried, his voice shaking with desperation. “Elaine, it’s me. It’s Thomas. I’ve come for you. I’m taking you home.”
She didn’t respond.
The air grew colder, the mist thickening. Thomas approached her cautiously, his heart in his throat.
“Elaine, please…” His voice cracked.
Then she turned.
Her eyes were black, endless voids, and when she spoke, her voice was not her own. It was the Hollow Mother’s voice, warped and twisted.
"You should have chosen differently, Thomas. The game is over."
Before Thomas could react, the ground beneath his feet shook. The forest seemed to pulse with dark energy, and Elaine—no, the Hollow Mother—reached out, her fingers cold and bone-like, gripping his wrist with an iron-tight hold.
“You think you can defy me? You think you can take what’s mine without paying the price?” she hissed, her voice dripping with malice.
Suddenly, Thomas felt a sharp, icy pain in his chest. His breath caught, and he looked down to see the doll—Elaine’s doll—pressed against his heart. It was no longer lifeless. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural, green light, and its form twisted as though it was trying to break free of its confines.
“No…” Thomas gasped. “No, I won’t… I won’t sacrifice her.”
The Hollow Mother laughed, the sound echoing through the forest like the crack of breaking wood.
“You already have,” she purred. “You see, Thomas, the woods require a price. I gave you the chance to choose, to save her. But you lost.”
The doll in his chest throbbed again, and with a sharp pain, Thomas was torn between his love for Elaine and the cold, cruel truth. He was trapped.
And in that moment, he knew what he had to do.
“Elaine,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you. But I won’t let Lily lose both of us.”
With a final breath, he tore the doll from his chest and pressed it into the Hollow Mother’s hands.
The air grew still, as if the forest was holding its breath. The Hollow Mother’s eyes flickered with dark amusement.
“You’ve made your choice,” she said, her voice growing distant. “But remember, Thomas, every choice comes with a sacrifice.”
Suddenly, the world around him shifted. The forest began to tremble, the trees groaning as if they were alive. The Hollow Mother’s form wavered, cracking and splintering like rotting wood. The forest seemed to consume her, the shadows closing in around her as she vanished into the darkness.
And in the sudden silence that followed, Thomas stood alone, holding the doll.
Elaine was gone.
But Lily… Lily would still have a mother.
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