Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMC98DV21YGR7SC8J76GCC

The Fae Grove was silent but for the rustling of the leaves above. Aurora pulled her jacket tighter against the chill as she stepped into the clearing, the gravel crunching beneath her boots. The pendant at her throat pulsed with a faint warmth, guiding her way. She had come here for a reason, though the memory felt hazy, distant. Something about a message, a summons from an unknown source. Her friends had begged her not to go, but Rory had waved off their concerns. She could handle herself. She was always the one they turned to in a crisis, the cool head, the problem solver. But as she glanced around the grove, a shiver ran down her spine. The night felt unnaturally still, the shadows deeper, the trees more gnarled and twisted than she remembered. That had to be her imagination, surely. But the pendant at her throat grew warmer, pulsing in time with the thrum of her heartbeat. Rory's gaze swept the clearing, searching for any sign of what had drawn her here. The standing stones, their surfaces worn smooth by time, loomed at the edge of the grove, a silent and ominous presence. Beyond them, the park lay dark and quiet, swallowed by the night. A twig snapped somewhere in the underbrush, and Rory whirled towards the sound, pulse pounding in her ears. She strained to peer into the gloom, but the trees and bushes blended into an impenetrable wall of shadow. "Hello?" she called out, her voice sounding small and uncertain in the vast stillness. "Is anyone there?" No answer. Only the eerie silence pressing in around her. Slowly, Rory turned back towards the center of the clearing, her gaze drawn to the twisted, gnarled trunk of the old oak tree. It seemed to loom over her, its branches reaching down like grasping claws. She shivered again, and the pendant pulsed with increasing warmth against her skin. Rory's fingers trailed along the chain, her thumb tracing the outline of the crimson stone. It had become a familiar talisman, a comfort in the strange new world she had found herself in. But now, its gentle glow only served to highlight the encroaching darkness, the growing sense of wrongness that pressed in around her. A faint rustling, barely audible, came from the bushes behind her. Rory whirled, heart pounding, but saw nothing. Her breath misted in the chill air as she strained to listen, to catch any other sound that might betray the presence of another. But the grove remained silent, save for the relentless pulsing of the pendant. Rory's eyes narrowed as she scanned the shadows, searching for any sign of movement. The pendant's warmth against her skin was a steady, reassuring presence, but it did little to ease the growing unease that gnawed at her. Something was wrong here, deeply and fundamentally wrong. And she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Carefully, she began to make her way towards the standing stones, her footsteps light and cautious. The gravel crunched beneath her boots, the sound seeming to echo unnaturally in the stillness. Each step felt like a struggle, as if the very air were conspiring to slow her progress. As she neared the stones, the pendant pulsed more insistently, the warmth radiating up her neck and into her cheek. Rory paused, one hand raised to shield her eyes as she peered into the gloom beyond the boundary. There, in the shadows, something moved. A flicker of motion, too fast to make out. Rory's breath caught in her throat, her muscles tensing as she strained to catch another glimpse. But the darkness swallowed it, leaving only the steady thrum of the pendant to break the silence. Rory's fingers tightened around the stone, its warmth a steadying presence as she forced herself to take another step forward. The boundary of the grove loomed before her, the standing stones rising up like silent sentinels. She reached out, her fingertips brushing the rough surface of one of the ancient oaks. A sudden, piercing scream rent the air, so close and so anguished that Rory recoiled, her heart racing. She whirled, searching frantically for the source, but the grove remained silent and still, the shadows as impenetrable as ever. "Hello?" she called out, her voice cracking with uncertainty. "Is someone there? Are you alright?" No response. Only the relentless pulsing of the pendant, the warmth now nearly scalding against her skin. Rory's gaze swept the clearing, her mind racing. She had to get out of here, had to find help. But the boundary seemed to waver and shift, the trees and bushes blending together in an indistinct mass of shadow and unnatural stillness. She took a step backwards, then another, her eyes never leaving the darkness beyond the standing stones. The pendant burned against her skin, its pulse quickening in time with her own ragged breaths. And then, beyond the boundary, she saw it. A hulking shape, darkerthan the shadows, moving with a fluid, unsettling grace. Rory's breath caught in her throat as it turned towards her, two glowing eyes piercing the gloom. She turned and ran, heart pounding, the gravel crunching beneath her boots as she fled. The pendant bounced against her chest, its warmth a constant reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. The trees seemed to reach for her as she ran, their gnarled branches grasping and clawing. Rory ducked and dodged, her lungs burning, but the shadows only seemed to grow thicker, the air heavier and more oppressive with each passing step. Finally, she burst out of the grove, emerging into the relative safety of the park beyond. But as she paused, gasping for breath, a sense of dread settled over her. The pendant still pulsed with warmth, a steady, insistent rhythm. And Rory knew, with a sinking certainty, that whatever lurked in the shadows of the Fae Grove was not yet finished with her.