Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPD4D57C7WK6QPJM7ND8XV

In the hushed quiet of a London night, Aurora Carter pedaled her bicycle through Richmond Park, the cold October air nipping at her heels. She'd left Silas' bar hours ago, the last patron's laughter fading into the hum of the city. Now, she was drawn to the park, to the Fae Grove, by a force she couldn't explain. Her heartstone pendant, a deep crimson gem on a silver chain, pulsed faintly against her chest, a warmth that seemed to echo her own heartbeat. The ancient oak standing stones marking the boundary loomed ahead, their gnarled branches reaching like skeletal fingers towards the moon. Rory slowed her bike, her breath misting in the chill. She'd been here countless times, but tonight, the grove felt different. The wildflowers that usually bloomed year-round seemed to huddle close to the ground, their petals closed tight. The air was heavy with an unseen tension, like the calm before a storm. She leaned her bike against an ancient oak and stepped into the grove, her boots sinking into the soft earth. The moon cast dappled shadows through the canopy, turning the clearing into a dance of light and dark. She walked deeper into the grove, her fingers tracing the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist, a habit when she was nervous. A twig snapped behind her. Rory spun around, her heart pounding. "Hello?" Her voice echoed in the silence. She was alone. Or so it seemed. A faint rustling came from the bushes, too large to be a squirrel or a bird. She took a step back, her eyes scanning the darkness. The grove was never this quiet. Usually, it hummed with life, with the whispers of the Fae. But tonight, it was as if the grove itself held its breath, waiting. For what, Rory didn't want to know. She turned back, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. The grove was playing tricks on her, that was all. She was letting her imagination run wild. But then, she saw it. A figure, standing by the old oak where she'd left her bike. It was tall, too tall to be human, its form obscured by the shadows. It seemed to be watching her, its eyes reflecting the moonlight like a cat's. Rory's breath hitched in her throat. She took a step back, her heart pounding in her ears. The figure didn't move, but its presence seemed to grow, filling the grove with an ancient, malevolent power. She could feel it, a cold pressure against her skin, a whisper of something old and hungry. She turned to run, but it was too late. The grove seemed to shift around her, the trees closing in, the path disappearing. Panic surged through her, but she fought it down, her mind racing. She was Aurora Carter, cool-headed, intelligent, the girl who'd left an abusive ex and fled to London. She wouldn't panic. She wouldn't run. She took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the grove. The figure was gone, but she could still feel it, watching, waiting. She reached up, her fingers closing around the heartstone pendant. It pulsed warm against her skin, a comforting presence. She took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the spot where she'd left her bike. The grove seemed to resist her, the air growing colder, heavier. But she pushed on, her steps steady, her breath even. She was almost there when she heard it. A whisper, like dry leaves rustling, but with words. "Stay, child. Play with us." Rory froze, her heart pounding. The voice was everywhere and nowhere, a cold wind that seemed to seep into her bones. She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the pendant. "I'm not a child," she said, her voice steady. "And I don't play games." A laugh echoed through the grove, a harsh, grating sound that set her teeth on edge. "Everyone plays, child. Even you." Rory ignored the voice, her eyes fixed on her bike. She was almost there when the grove seemed to explode into life. Shadows darted between the trees, the wildflowers bloomed in a riot of color, their petals opening wide, revealing eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. The air was filled with whispers, with laughter, with the sound of something large moving through the undergrowth. Rory's heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't run. She grabbed her bike, her fingers closing around the handlebars. She could feel them, the Fae, their ancient power pressing against her, their hunger a cold, malevolent presence. But she wouldn't run. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She turned her bike around, her eyes scanning the grove. The figure was back, its eyes reflecting the moonlight, its form still obscured by the shadows. It seemed to smile at her, a cold, mocking smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "Until next time, child," it whispered, its voice like dry leaves rustling. Rory didn't respond. She pedaled away, her eyes fixed on the path ahead, her heart pounding in her ears. She didn't look back, not even when the grove seemed to sigh behind her, the wildflowers closing their petals, the shadows retreating. She didn't stop until she reached the boundary, the ancient oak standing stones looming ahead. She leaned her bike against one, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was safe. She was out. But the grove... the grove had changed. And she had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time.