The air was cool as she walked through the streets toward the center of the city. The usual hum of traffic and chatter had dulled, replaced by an eerie quiet as the garden loomed ahead. The flowers were more vibrant in person, their colors practically glowing against the backdrop of urban decay. People were gathered at the edges of the garden, some in awe, others with grim expressions on their faces.
Elara's steps slowed as she approached, and she felt a chill run down her spine. She had heard the stories of people vanishing - children, teenagers, adults, entire families - without a trace, as though they had been swallowed by the earth itself. The garden was a strange, beautiful monument to the missing, but it held something more than beauty. There was something in the air, a palpable sense of unease that seemed to pulse from the flowers.
Each one was different, as though they had grown in the shape of their origins. Some were tall, with delicate petals that curled at the edges like fragile lace, while others were squat and bushy, their flowers opening wide like faces caught in eternal surprise. The colors ranged from soft lavender to deep blood-red, and some even appeared to shimmer in the fading twilight.
A sudden flash of recognition struck Elara as she observed one particularly striking flower - its petals were a deep violet, tinged with silver. She had seen those petals before, in her studies of rare plants. The flower's structure was unlike anything she had encountered in her textbooks or journals. Its base seemed to pulse with life, as though it were breathing.
It wasn't until she looked closely that Elara realized the flower's form was not purely botanical.
A chill swept through her as she saw the subtle movement of the flower's petals - like the fluttering of a distant memory. She felt an odd compulsion to reach out, to touch it, even as her mind screamed at her to turn away. The closer she came, the more she recognized the figure etched into the delicate curves of the petals.
It was the face of her brother.
Elara's steps slowed as she approached, and she felt a chill run down her spine. She had heard the stories of people vanishing - children, teenagers, adults, entire families - without a trace, as though they had been swallowed by the earth itself. The garden was a strange, beautiful monument to the missing, but it held something more than beauty. There was something in the air, a palpable sense of unease that seemed to pulse from the flowers.
Each one was different, as though they had grown in the shape of their origins. Some were tall, with delicate petals that curled at the edges like fragile lace, while others were squat and bushy, their flowers opening wide like faces caught in eternal surprise. The colors ranged from soft lavender to deep blood-red, and some even appeared to shimmer in the fading twilight.
A sudden flash of recognition struck Elara as she observed one particularly striking flower - its petals were a deep violet, tinged with silver. She had seen those petals before, in her studies of rare plants. The flower's structure was unlike anything she had encountered in her textbooks or journals. Its base seemed to pulse with life, as though it were breathing.
It wasn't until she looked closely that Elara realized the flower's form was not purely botanical.
A chill swept through her as she saw the subtle movement of the flower's petals - like the fluttering of a distant memory. She felt an odd compulsion to reach out, to touch it, even as her mind screamed at her to turn away. The closer she came, the more she recognized the figure etched into the delicate curves of the petals.
It was the face of her brother.
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