Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFNSGVM0899DG6EM5VK5ZB

Aurora Carter pulled her hood up against the chill as she stepped off the path and into the shadowed grove. The faint crunch of dry leaves beneath her boots was the only sound in the stillness. She paused just inside the ring of ancient oaks, where moonlight filtered down through the dense canopy in dappled patches. The Heartstone pendant resting against her chest felt warm, almost alive, its crimson depths pulsing faintly with a soft, inner glow. She didn’t want to be here. Not tonight, not ever, really. But Eva had been insistent, her voice trembling over the phone earlier that evening. *"It’s urgent, Rory. You have to go to the Grove. Tonight. Bring the pendant."* The conversation had ended abruptly, leaving Aurora with more questions than answers. Now, standing in the eerie quiet of the Fae-touched clearing, she wished she’d pressed Eva for more details. The Grove looked different at night. The wildflowers that usually bloomed in riotous colors seemed muted, their petals closed like fists. The air was thicker here, heavier, laden with a scent she couldn’t quite place—something earthy and sweet, like decaying fruit. She adjusted the strap of her bag and took a cautious step forward, the Heartstone’s warmth a small comfort against the creeping unease that gnawed at the edges of her mind. "Eva?" she called softly, her voice swallowed by the trees. No response. She glanced around, her bright blue eyes scanning the shadows. Nothing moved, but the sensation of being watched prickled the back of her neck, raising the fine hairs there. She shook it off, attributing it to nerves. Still, her hand drifted instinctively to the pendant, her fingers brushing the smooth stone. The Grove’s strange time dilation was unnerving at the best of times. She could spend hours here and emerge to find only minutes had passed in the outside world—or the opposite. Time didn’t flow here; it lurched and staggered unpredictably. She checked her phone, but the screen was blank, the battery dead. Of course. Tech always failed in places like this. She moved deeper into the clearing, her boots sinking slightly into the soft earth. The faint glow of the Heartstone was enough to light her way, casting flickering shadows that danced at the edges of her vision. She kept her pace steady, her breathing even, though her heart thudded loudly in her chest. "Eva?" she called again, louder this time. Still nothing. Then she heard it—a soft, rhythmic sound, like footsteps echoing faintly from somewhere behind her. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she turned, scanning the darkness. The standing stones loomed like silent sentinels, their gnarled bark catching the moonlight in strange patterns. There was no one there. "Just the wind," she muttered, though the air was still. She forced herself to keep moving, her fingers tightening around the pendant. The warmth from the stone seemed to intensify, a reassuring presence against her palm. The Grove was unnaturally quiet now, as though holding its breath. Even the rustle of leaves was absent. Aurora’s footsteps sounded impossibly loud, each crunch of twigs and leaves echoing unnaturally. She glanced over her shoulder again, her pulse quickening. *Just keep moving.* She reached the center of the clearing, where a shallow pool of water reflected the moonlight like a shattered mirror. Eva had told her to come here, but there was no sign of her—or anyone else. Aurora knelt by the pool, her reflection staring back at her with wide, wary eyes. The Heartstone’s glow rippled across the water’s surface, its crimson light deepening. Then she heard it again—the footsteps. Closer this time. She straightened abruptly, her gaze darting around the clearing. "Eva?" Her voice wavered, betraying her fear. The footsteps paused, as though in response. Her breath came in shallow gasps now, her chest tight. The warmth from the pendant was almost scorching against her skin. A low, guttural sound reached her ears, barely audible but unmistakable. It wasn’t human. Aurora backed away from the pool, her eyes fixed on the shadows between the trees. Her mind raced through possibilities—wild animals, the Fae, something worse. The Grove was a liminal space, a place where the boundaries between worlds blurred. Anything could be here. The footsteps resumed, slow and deliberate, circling her. She turned, trying to track the sound, but it seemed to come from every direction at once. Her fingers clenched around the pendant, its pulse quickening in tandem with her heartbeat. "Who’s there?" she demanded, her voice stronger than she felt. No answer. Just the footsteps, closer now, and that low, growling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye—a flicker of shadow darting between the trees. She spun toward it, her heart pounding, but there was nothing there. The air grew colder, the scent of decay sharper. Aurora’s breath fogged in front of her face as she backed toward the edge of the clearing, her eyes never leaving the shadows. The trees seemed to press in around her, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes. She stumbled over a root, catching herself just before she fell. The footsteps stopped, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a whisper. Her name, spoken in a voice that wasn’t Eva’s—or anyone’s she recognized. It was rasping, guttural, the sound of something inhuman trying to mimic speech. "Aurora..." She turned and ran, her boots pounding against the uneven ground. The Heartstone swung wildly against her chest, its glow a beacon in the dark. The trees seemed to close in around her, their branches clawing at her hoodie as she dashed past. The whispers followed her, echoing through the grove in disjointed fragments. "Come back..." "We see you..." She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Her lungs burned with the effort, her legs aching as she pushed herself harder. The standing stones loomed ahead, their gnarled forms a lifeline. If she could just reach them— Something caught her ankle, sending her sprawling into the damp leaves. She scrambled to her feet, her hands slick with mud, and pulled herself upright. The whispers were louder now, overlapping in a cacophony of voices. She stumbled forward, her vision blurring, the Heartstone’s warmth searing against her skin. Then, finally, she burst through the ring of standing stones and into the cool night air beyond. The whispers ceased abruptly, replaced by the distant hum of traffic and the rustle of wind through the trees. She collapsed against a tree trunk, gasping for breath, her trembling fingers clutching the pendant. The Grove was silent behind her, its shadows still and unmoving. Aurora glanced down at the Heartstone, its crimson depths glowing faintly. Whatever was in there—whatever had been watching her—she couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t done with her. Not yet. She pushed herself upright, her legs still unsteady, and started down the path toward the city lights. The night was young, but she already knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. She’d have answers tomorrow—and a stern word for Eva. For now, all she wanted was to get as far from the Grove as possible. But even as she walked, the whispers lingered in her mind, faint and insidious, like the echo of a nightmare she couldn’t quite forget. The Heartstone pulsed once, a warning or a promise, and Aurora quickened her pace, the shadows at her back stretching long and dark in the moonlight.