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... round her, the towering hedges twisting and writhing as if alive. The air grew suffocating, thick with the stench of damp earth and decay. Behind her, the black vines surged forward, their thorn-laden tendrils snapping like whips, thirsting for her flesh and blood. Each lash was as precise as it was brutal, slashing through the air with a deadly hiss.

Arabella pushed herself forward, her feet pounding against the uneven ground as the maze roared with unrelenting malice. One of t ...

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