"....."

"....."

After the man's last words, a dense and heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the soft sound of dust and lint settling.

"From what I heard..."

Leo remained motionless, processing the story he had just heard. His mind, which had been on the verge of breaking from panic, now worked frantically. The information was organizing itself in his head. What had been a senseless chaos suddenly began to take on a macabre form.

"... A terrifying red-haired woman."

Leo remembered how the man had talked about a terrifying red-haired woman who seemed harmless. The words resonated in Leo's mind. The memory of that woman in the Park of Laments, of her fake smile and her icy gaze, came to him. He had seen her and, although at the time he hadn't known why, he had felt a deep discomfort, a latent terror.

"It's possible."

Now he knew why. It wasn't a groundless fear; it was instinct. The woman was real, and her sweet appearance concealed an indomitable horror.

"Besides, that maid..."

Then, the mention of the expressionless maid made him feel a chill. He remembered her. He had also seen her in the Park of Laments, always there like a silent specter with empty eyes and an emotionless face.

"Coincidence?"

The man had just described how that same maid, or at least one who was extremely similar, had disintegrated a man with a simple punch.

"No... It's impossible for it to be a coincidence..."

That maid, whom he had considered a simple extra unlike the impression left by the others and everything else in that park, was in reality a being of inconceivable destructive power, if what the man in front of him was saying was true.

"But what confirms my suspicions beyond a doubt is the location."

And then there was the last point, the most terrifying of all. The man had spoken of a suburban home in a quiet neighborhood, a place that looked normal on the outside, but was a "madhouse" on the inside.

"Mireya mentioned he lived in a 'spacious' house in a 'suburban' neighborhood, right?"

The memory of the straw dolls came back to him. The dolls that were always with Mireya. The same dolls that had emerged from the floor of the temple and had waved at him as he fell through the hole.

"If those same dolls live here, then..."

It was then that the pieces came together. Leo realized that they weren't just coincidences. The straw dolls were not simply toys; they were the creations or the inhabitants of that house.

"That means this place is!"

If those dolls lived with Mireya, then Mireya also came from that house, from that madhouse that broke all logic. Everything was connected: the red-haired woman, the maid, the house of horrors, and, at the center of it all, Mireya.

"This is where he lives!!"

"Hey, are you okay?!"

The conclusion, on its own, made no sense. How could a furniture ravine be someone's house, no matter how strange they were? However, at this point, Leo's logic had been shattered by trauma and replaced by something more visceral: a belief painfully ingrained by the violence of experience.

"IT ALL MAKES SENSE!"

"Hey, calm down, you even seem crazier than me right now!"

To Leo's mind, exhausted and traumatized by the absurdity of his journey, a place as illogical as this could not be disconnected from the one person who was the center of everything that had happened to him. He had arrived there because of Mireya, and at that moment, the only truth his mind could accept was that this absurd place was Mireya's house.

"I need your help to escape from here!"

"What?!"

Leo's shout broke the silence of the furniture ravine.

"Are you crazy?!"

At Leo's exclamation, the man, unable to contain himself, asked, questioning Leo's sanity even though he himself had spent years in solitude.

"You've lived here for so long, you have to know how to get out. Tell me, how do I do it? How do I get out of this cursed place?"

But without paying attention to that, Leo got up from the hollow he had fallen into and looked at the ragged man with hope and desperation reflected in his eyes.

"Haven't you learned anything from my story?! There's no way out! The best plan is to stay hidden, keep your head down, and pray they don't find you!"

The man, who had been so calm, suddenly erupted in a shout, his voice full of frustration.

"LISTEN TO ME CLOSELY...!"

"What?!"

Leo, however, no longer felt panic. It had been replaced by a cold fury and a deep exhaustion.

"I've had enough madness for one cursed day! I don't care if it's a madhouse, if there's a cult, or if those dolls are demons! I just want to go home, once and for all!"

He no longer cared about the fear; he just wanted to go home.

"Don't you want to get out of here? Don't you want to see the sun again for the first time since you got here?"

His voice grew lower, more intense, charged with a conviction the man had not seen in him before, as he looked directly into the vagabond's eyes.

"....."

The man blinked; the question had taken him by surprise.

"Because I want to see it!"

But Leo didn't stop; his mind had already moved on to the next thought. He refused to wait to be found. The thought of Mireya looking for him and failing miserably gave him a strange sense of unease. After all, Mireya had an absolutely terrible sense of direction. He remembered their hellish journey to the temple. A simple walk that should have been straightforward became a torture due to Mireya's turns and changes of course. Because of this, he knew that if he tried to find him, he would fail.

"......."

The man blinked again. Leo's words, raw and full of emotion, resonated in his mind like a forgotten melody.

"You're right."

He had been in this place for so long, hidden, resigned to a life of fear, that he had almost forgotten what it was like to live. Leo's words reminded him of what he had denied himself: the sunlight, a real sky, the hope of a life beyond the furniture and the monsters.

"I don't want to live like this. Not anymore."

His gaze lifted with his trembling voice, and for the first time in years, the gleam of an iron determination ignited in his eyes.

"I'll help you get out of this place. I don't know how, but we'll find a way. I won't stay here to be found... to be a ghost."

It wasn't fear that moved him now; instead, it was a faint but firm spark of hope as he extended his now firm hand toward Leo.

"So I'll need your help too."

"......."

Leo felt a wave of relief that filled his chest.

"Of course!"

With that, he grabbed the man's hand tightly, and they both stood up from the sea of cushions.

"You can count on me."

"And I on you."

The pact was sealed, two lost souls united in a common goal. Not just to escape, but to reclaim the normalcy of their lives.

"By the way, I haven't even asked your name."

"....."

Leo's question was so sudden that Taher stopped in his tracks to look at him with a somewhat awkward smile.

"My name is Taher."

He then replied with a small smile forming on his face.

"I'm Leo."

Meanwhile, Leo replied while realizing his bad habit of forgetting to introduce himself or ask for the other person's name.

"So, Taher... what's the plan?"

"......"

Upon hearing those words, Taher's smile vanished, replaced by an expression of pure exasperation.

"The plan? What plan?"

"Well, the plan to escape."

After making sure with those words that he had not misheard, the man rubbed his forehead, a gesture that suggested his patience was reaching its limit.

"You made me feel all that emotion, you convinced me to come out of my hiding place and now... you don't have a plan?!"

"Ahahaha, ugh..."

In response, Leo rubbed his head, an embarrassed laugh escaping his lips.

"Well, the truth is, I don't. I just knew I had to get out, and you seemed to be the only one who could help me."

"Ugh..."

Taher sighed, but deep down there was a glimmer of respect for Leo's honesty.

"In that case."

Taher said as he crouched down and pulled a rolled-up map from inside his flannel shirt. The map was made of crumpled and stained paper, and its edges had frayed with time.

"I have a plan. I had one for a while, but I had resigned myself to not following it."

"Why?"

"Well... That's because it was too dangerous for me alone. But now... now it might work with company."

"So, what's the plan?"

Leo asked, full of hope and encouragement at the possibility of returning home.

"Look."

In response, Taher unfolded the map. It wasn't made of normal paper; it was made of a soft fabric, as if it were a cutout from a cushion, with lines traced in pencil and erased over and over again. It looked as messy as the madhouse, considered home by its residents, in which they were located.

"Here we are, in the furniture ravine, and the nearest exit is that window over there."

In that way, Taher pointed toward a high window in the distance, marked on the map.

"The window leads to the courtyard. It's our only way to see the sun again."

"Uh-huh."

Leo nodded, hope igniting in his eyes. But Taher continued, his voice grave.

"However, the path is not simple. To get to that window, we have to cross a treacherous path. The first obstacle is The Mannequin Walkway."

Taher slid his finger along the map to a point marked with the drawing of a coat hanger.

"It's a gigantic room, crammed with mannequins and shelves up to the ceiling. There are all kinds of imaginable costumes, from maid outfits, bunny suits, nurse uniforms... all waiting for their guests."

"....."

Leo didn't know how to react to the description of such a place; he felt a slight shiver at the unsettling idea of faceless mannequins watching them in the gloom.

"And that's just the beginning."

Taher continued, his finger moving to another point.

"After that, we have to cross the Pantheon Museum. That place... is cult territory. Do you remember the chants I told you about? Those guys are the Society of Fallen Angels. If they see us, we're lost."

"A cult..."

Leo's heart quickened as he remembered those black-hooded figures summoned by Mireya that night.

"And to finish."

Taher continued in a lower tone, staring fixedly at the nervous Leo in front of him.

"Gulp!"

The tension got on Leo's nerves, who could only swallow nervously.

"We have to cross a place that frightens even me. The Pleasure Room. No one knows what's inside, but the screams... the screams are legendary."

"Why is it called that?"

Upon hearing that name, Leo, unable to hold back, blurted out the question as his imagination ran wild, filling the void with horrible visions. Were they traps activated by screams of pleasure, or monsters that fed on them? Was it a place where torture was so unbearable that it became pleasurable for the one inflicting it? The name alone was a harbinger of a perverse torment that his mind struggled to comprehend.

"What's inside?"

Unable to resist his curiosity, Leo asked, his voice now firm, as he looked Taher in the eyes.

"....."

Taher remained silent, looked away, and put the map away. The gleam in his eyes vanished, replaced by a growing discomfort, as if he didn't know how to respond.

"Well... Ehm... You'll understand when you see it for yourself."

"....."

Leo was stunned, his legs felt heavy, and a sense of fear took hold of him in a way that neither the story of the dolls nor the maid had managed.

"What the hell can be in there?"

Leo's mind raced with possibilities, wondering what kind of singular torment could be so terrible that not even a man who had lived among monsters and cults would dare to describe it.

"However..."

The screams, Taher's discomfort... Fear gnawed at him, but suddenly, the frustration he had spoken of before turned into rage, into pure determination.

"That won't stop me!"

He looked at Taher, his eyes burning with a conviction that brooked no argument.

"We're going to escape from here. And I'm going to go home, where my family is waiting for me!"

"....."

Without waiting for a response, Leo turned and started to walk. Taher followed him, a step behind.

"I can't tell him... I can't tell him that the last obstacle is so... Singular..."

And so, with Leo filled with a new and fierce motivation, and Taher walking by his side, consumed by a strange nervousness and discomfort, they delved into the depths of the house, heading toward their destiny.