the monstrous dahlia, with its petals as dark and ominous as a moonless night, unfurls in the center of a dimly lit room. its golden heart glows like a sickly sun, drawing attention to the sharp thorns that encircle it like an impregnable fortress. the flower's purple petals seem to pulse with a life of their own, each one bearing a faint whisper of a chilling whisper. the air is thick with an unearthly aura, casting long, distorted shadows that dance and writhe across the walls. as if controlled by an unseen puppeteer, the dahlia slowly turns towards the viewer, revealing a hollow core where a thousand eyes stare out in a silent plea for mercy.