Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMQXCZJ7GES2RCRKYVZF1CS

The moon hung high over Richmond Park as Aurora Carter slipped through the iron gate, its hinges groaning in protest. She adjusted the strap of her backpack and checked her watch—11:47 PM. Another delivery shift at Golden Empress finished, another late-night trek to the Grove. The pendant beneath her sweater grew warm against her skin as she approached the ancient oak standing stones that marked the boundary. Rory hadn't planned to return tonight, not after what happened last time. But the dreams had been getting worse—whispers in a language she almost understood, shadows that moved with purpose. And the pendant, the damn Heartstone, had been pulsing steadily since sunset, a silent demand she couldn't ignore. She passed between the standing stones, their bark rough and gnarled like the faces of old men. The air shifted, grew thick with the scent of wildflowers that had no business blooming in November. That was the thing about the Grove—nature didn't follow normal rules here. Time itself played by different rules too. Rory pulled a flashlight from her pocket, clicking it on. The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the clearing. Everything looked as it should: the ring of mushrooms, the ancient tree at the center, the carpet of impossible flowers in colors too vibrant to be natural. And yet, something was wrong. The silence was too complete. No owls, no rustling of small creatures, no wind through the branches. Just a profound, heavy quiet that pressed against her eardrums. She reached beneath her sweater, fingers closing around the Heartstone Pendant. It was warmer than before, almost hot. The deep crimson gemstone pulsed with a faint inner light, casting red shadows across her palm. "Okay," she whispered to herself. "Just a quick check. In and out." The pendant had been reacting strangely for weeks, its warmth growing stronger, its glow more persistent. Yu-Fei had noticed it during their last late-night conversation, her wrinkled face tightening with concern. "That's not right, Rory," she'd said. "Stones like yours, they don't just get warm for no reason." Rory moved deeper into the clearing, her flashlight beam sweeping across the ground. The wildflowers seemed to lean toward her, their petals shimmering in the light. Or was that just her imagination? A twig snapped behind her. Rory spun around, heart hammering against her ribs. The flashlight beam trembled as she scanned the trees. Nothing. Just shadows and stillness. "Hello?" she called out, her voice too loud in the oppressive silence. "Is someone there?" No answer. Of course there wasn't. Who would be out here in the middle of the night? She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She was being paranoid. The Grove was isolated, hidden. Most people didn't even know it existed. But Rory did. And something else did too. The pendant grew hotter in her hand, almost uncomfortably so. She dropped it, letting it fall back beneath her sweater as she rubbed her palm against her jeans. Another sound, this time from the opposite direction—a soft, scraping noise, like something being dragged across the ground. Rory tightened her grip on the flashlight. "I know you're there," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Show yourself." A whisper of movement at the edge of her vision. She whipped her head around, but whatever it was had already gone. Or was it just the wind? But there was no wind, not here, not tonight. She approached the ancient tree at the center of the clearing, its bark twisted into shapes that almost resembled faces. In the daylight, they seemed benign, even friendly. Now, in the moonlight, they looked like something else entirely—hungry, watchful, waiting. The pendant pulsed against her chest, a steady rhythm that matched her own racing heart. It had never reacted this strongly before, not even when— A child's laughter echoed through the clearing. Rory froze, the blood draining from her face. It was impossible, utterly impossible. There were no children here, not ever. And yet the laughter came again, clearer this time, followed by the sound of small feet running through the undergrowth. "Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain calm. "Who's there?" The laughter stopped. The silence that followed was worse, filled with the weight of anticipation. Rory scanned the tree line, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. And yet she could feel them—multiple presences, watching her from the shadows. The pendant was practically burning now, its heat spreading through her chest like a fever. This had been a mistake. A terrible, foolish mistake. She should never have come back here alone, not after last time. Rory took a step back, then another, her eyes fixed on the tree line. The wildflowers beneath her feet seemed to reach up, their stems curling around her ankles like fingers. She yelped, stumbling backward. The flowers released her immediately, returning to their innocent appearance. Had they really moved, or had her mind finally snapped under the pressure? A figure emerged from between the trees—tall, slender, its form indistinct in the darkness. Rory raised her flashlight, but the beam seemed to bend around it, refusing to illuminate its features. "Stay back," she warned, backing away slowly. The figure tilted its head, a gesture of curiosity or mockery—she couldn't tell which. More figures emerged behind it, their forms shifting and blurring at the edges of her vision. Rory turned and ran, her feet pounding against the soft earth. The pendant pulsed wildly against her chest, each beat sending a jolt of pain through her body. The standing stones that marked the boundary of the Grove were just ahead, her only escape. The child's laughter echoed all around her, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was joined by other sounds—whispers, sighs, the soft padding of footsteps following her. She risked a glance backward. The figures were gaining on her, their elongated limbs moving with impossible speed. Their faces remained indistinct, but she could feel their hunger, their need. Rory pushed herself faster, her lungs burning. The standing stones were closer now, just a few more yards. She burst through the boundary between two stones, stumbling out of the Grove and back into the normal world of Richmond Park. She collapsed onto the grass, gasping for breath. The night air felt cold against her skin, and the sounds of the city—distant traffic, the barking of a dog—were a welcome relief. Rory looked back at the Grove. The standing stones stood silent and still in the moonlight, giving no indication of the horrors they contained. The pendant beneath her sweater had cooled, its faint inner glow dimmed to almost nothing. She reached up to touch it, her fingers tracing the silver chain. Whatever was in there, whatever had been awakened, it wasn't finished with her yet. And Rory knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that she would have to go back.