Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPADVXNW24CYEDP00EXN0V

The moon hung low over Richmond Park, a silver coin cast against the velvety black of the night, illuminating the edges of the trees. Aurora Carter tightened her jacket around herself, the crisp air biting through the thin fabric. She had come to this secluded area of the park, a place that had always felt somewhat untouched, isolated from the enormity of the world around it. But tonight, beneath the haunting glow of the moon, the Fae Grove felt different—more alive, more watchful. She hesitated at the ancient oak standing stones, their gnarled surfaces etched with patterns that seemed to twist and writhe in the darkness. These monoliths marked the boundary between her world and another, a place she had only heard whispers of in folklore. Strings of wildflowers coiled around the stones, blooming defiantly against the encroaching chill of autumn. But tonight, the flowers’ colors appeared muted, drained of the brightness that usually captivated her. Aurora took a step forward, the crunch of leaves underfoot echoing in the stillness. The air shifted as if it held a collective breath. She paused, her heart racing. Something felt off, as if the Grove were watching her, recognizing her intrusion. She could have turned back, returned to the familiar chaos of London streets buzzing with life, but her purpose compelled her onward. The Heartstone Pendant nestled against her chest, its faint crimson glow pulsing gently, offering a peculiar warmth that was both comforting and unnerving. A distant rustle broke the silence, sending a shiver along her spine. She glanced around, momentarily losing herself in the darkness between the trees. Her breath quickened as shadows danced, stretching and contracting near the edges of her vision. Nothing was there—at least, nothing she could see. Yet the unease clawed at her, rising with every crack of a twig or flicker of movement. The Grove pulsed with a life that suggested presence, something lurking just beyond the brink of her perception. Aurora shook her head, chastising her growing anxiety. She was here for a reason, after all. The tales of her childhood had always drawn her to this place, a desperate yearning overshadowed by the unease she tried to ignore. Evan had always dismissed her interest, belittled her stories as childish fantasies. But here, amongst the standing stones, she could feel a connection to something larger than herself—a weight of history living and breathing alongside her. She reached for the Heartstone Pendant, fingers brushing the cool surface of the silver chain. With each heartbeat, the warmth intensified, guiding her deeper into the Grove. Perhaps this was what she sought: solace from a past that wrapped itself around her like the suffocating grip of a shadow. Or was she simply trying to escape the remnants of Evan’s cruelty that still lingered? She wasn’t sure anymore. Then came the whispers—soft as a breeze but carrying a distinct resonance that sent her pulse into a frantic rhythm. The sound seemed to swirl around her, weaving through branches, caressing leaves. Aurora shivered, glancing back toward the light of the park in the distance. It felt almost like—like someone was calling her name. “Rory,” the wind seemed to echo, the sound beckoning, familiar and unsettling all at once. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Just the wind.” But the certainty in her voice wavered as she took another step forward, pushing through the rising sense of wrongness surrounding her. The grove stretched into inevitable shadows ahead. Aurora squinted, trying to dispel the darkness, yet the deepening night only grew thicker, swallowing the light around her. She gripped the pendant tighter, its glow offering little reassurance now. Suddenly, a rustling broke through the lingering silence, sharper and more insistent than before. It reverberated through the Grove, punctuating her unease. She whirled around, her heart pounding in her ears. “Is someone there?” Her voice betrayed her with a tremor. No answer came, though the air thickened with a palpable tension that wrapped around her like ivy constricting a tree. More movement—this time, just beyond the branches. A flicker, a shadow darting away before she could focus on it. She felt the cold brush of air across her neck, the prickle of more than just chill. A warning, perhaps. The hair on the back of her neck stood as if electric, as if the grove itself sensed a conflict brewing. There was a heavy weight suffusing the air around her, and the night felt thicker somehow, like treacle agitating in her lungs. “Stop it,” she murmured, half to herself. “You’re just being paranoid.” But the realization clawed at her insides—something was wrong. The Grove was indeed alive, and it felt hungry. A gust rustled the leaves above her, weaving a song of whispered words that only heard echoes of. Diverting her gaze from the comforting glow of the pendant, Aurora squinted into the dark. She stepped deeper into the clearing, her feet moving as if drawn by an unseen current. The sense of time warped; minutes blended into hours, each second strained under the heavy anticipation of the unknown. There, at the edge of her vision, something flickered—an ethereal form, human yet not. It paused just out of sight, watching her. She could feel its gaze on her, an envelope of inquisition that chilled her to her core. The darkness closed around her, claws of feral anticipation pushing against her resolve. “Who’s there?” she demanded, this time her voice stronger, though it shivered with uncertainty. The wind picked up, howling through the trees. Shadows danced closer, elongating as the moon’s silvery fingers struggled to pierce through the canopy. Promptly, the whispers returned, this time louder, more tangible. “Rory...” they called, wrapping around her thoughts, tugging insistently. No, she thought, clenching the pendant, its warmth comforting yet fiery, reminding her of who she was and who she had left behind. “I’m not afraid of you!” Yet even as the words left her mouth, she stumbled backward, eyes darting from shadow to shadow. The Grove shifted rhythmically, blurring together, a kaleidoscope of dark and light that spun her perceptions, slipping them into a surreal whirl. She turned abruptly, seeking the path back, but everywhere she looked felt irrevocably altered, disoriented by the warped nature of the grove. And then she saw it again—an outline, more defined this time. Cloaked in the dark, it stepped from the trees, its features obscured yet somehow familiar. The air thickened with tension, creating a butterfly knot in her stomach. It watched her with a patience that induced a shiver through her bones. “Who are you?” she shouted, her voice stronger but edged with panic. “What do you want?” The figure took a step forward, revealing a signature that conjured memories—not of the Good or Light, but of the malevolent grip of her past. The contours of Evan etched into her mind, woven like a nightmare. Her fingers entwined around the Heartstone, its warmth blossoming as hope and fear collided within her. “Come home, Rory,” it breathed, a voice smooth as silk but carrying the weight of a thousand daggers. “It’s time to embrace what you’ve forgotten.” Heart racing, she backed away. The grove closed in, the whispers spiraling into a frenzy, urging her onward, but her spine straightened even as she felt the weight of his influence hovering like a cold mist. No, she wouldn’t let it pull her back into darkness, into despair. The pendant pulsed more insistently, flooding her with warmth—a defiant echo of life. “No!” she cried, her voice shattering the cadence of whispers. She turned, breaking into a sprint as the Grove exploded with sound—the trees groaning, shadows stretching, desperation and urgency thrumming beneath her feet. And as the world around her began to spiral away, the Heartstone’s glow illuminated her path, guiding her through the encroaching shadows that dared to claim her. The wrongness surged at her heels as she fled, heart pounding, soul alight, seeking the way back to the light.