Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR00SRSXNGRECHF10PD5RG

Rory adjusted her scarf against the chill that swept through Richmond Park. A sliver of moonlight pierced the clouds, casting an eerie glow over the twisted branches of the oak trees. She stepped carefully over the damp earth, the sharp scent of moss filling her lungs. Though this was a familiar path — one she walked countless times in the daylight — it felt different now. The quiet of the night pressed against her, thick and oppressive. She glanced back, the path behind her swallowed in shadow. A shiver trickled down her spine, not from the cold, but from the weight of silence that enveloped her. The only sound came from her boots crunching on the gravel, each step echoing in the stillness. Rory pulled out the Heartstone Pendant from her coat pocket. It pulsed gently, warming her palm and setting her nerves just a bit more at ease. The faint crimson glow seemed to dance, but she frowned, noting how it dimmed slightly as she approached the grove. Unease washed over her. She hadn’t wanted to come here at night, but something — a whisper in her gut — urged her to return. The Fae Grove, a hidden clearing known only to a few, lay ahead. As she entered, the ancient oak standing stones loomed like forgotten sentinels. Their twisted forms carved against the night sky felt watchful. She paused, taking in the night-blooming wildflowers that dotted the ground. They appeared vibrant even in darkness, their colors somehow alive, yet their scent—sweet with an undertone of decay—turned her stomach. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” she muttered to herself, stepping further in. In one corner of her vision, she noticed movement. A flicker, a whisper of something just beyond the reach of the grove. When she turned her head, nothing but the sighing trees remained. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that encroached upon her thoughts. “Just the wind,” Rory whispered, but her heart raced, drumming like an anxious bird trapped in a cage. A breeze brushed past her cheek, cooler than before, leaving a jumble of unease tangled in her limbs. She fidgeted with her pendant, feeling its warmth reassuring despite the growing dread. Ten minutes ticked by as she searched the grove, seeking signs, clues, anything that explained the half-stirred whispers in her mind. The air thickened, loamy and damp, yet an invisible specter of something sinister began to creep closer. A rustle in the underbrush made her freeze. Eyes darting, she scanned the darkness. “Gonna get caught by the fairies if I’m not careful,” she chuckled weakly, though the humor barely made it to her lips. The trees shifted, and shadows danced around her, aching elastic webs of silence absorbing sound. The further she ventured, the more the pendant’s warmth faded, pulsing only sporadically. “Great. Just great.” The grove felt alive, yet somehow wrong. A tinge of desperation clung to her thoughts. She turned her head sharply again, caught by the nagging sense of being watched. There it was again, that flicker at the edge of her vision, like a candle struggling against an autumn wind. “Who’s there?” she called, her voice steady but low. The grove answered only with the sigh of the trees. “Such a clever girl.” The voice was low, mocking, drifting through the branches like a wisp of smoke. Her skin prickled at the sound — not quite a human voice, more an echo carried between realms. Unease morphed into something sharper: fear. She gripped the pendant tightly, its warmth now a steady pulse against her palm. “Show yourself!” she demanded, her heart hammering loud enough to drown out any other sound. The darkness held its breath. A movement caught her gaze once again, this time, more pronounced. A figure cloaked in shadows, the edges blurring into the surrounding gloom, stepped forth from behind a tree. Rory’s breath snagged in her throat; the shape—and the scents of lavender and musk — coiled around her like a threat. “Rory,” it whispered, the name a caress that curled into her mind. “Why do you seek the grove? There are things that lie between time and truth, and they can consume your hopes.” “Get away from me,” she snapped, her voice fierce despite the tremors in her hands. “You’ve come for more than answers,” the figure replied, stepping into a slant of moonlight. Dull skin stretched over skeletal features, shadows lurking beneath hollow eyes. “You seek freedom, don’t you?” “Don’t you dare come closer,” Rory warned, shifting backward. The grove pulsed with a life of its own as the unseen weight of lingering dread pressed down on her. Their eyes met, and she felt a strange pull, like tendrils wrapping around her thoughts, whispering secrets she could barely grasp. “Shadows betray,” it hissed, voice grating, resembling the crunch of leaves underfoot. “They reveal more than they conceal.” Rory squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to listen, unwilling to succumb to whatever temptation it offered. As if sensing her resolve, the figure shifted. “I can grant you power. Unveil your past — the chains that bind you to the boy who once ruled your heart.” “No,” she spat, the word an anchor against the tide of fear. “Choose, Rory. Shadows or solace.” A rustle behind her made her whip around. Nothing remained but thick darkness and the horrible whispers spiraling through her mind. The grove thickened, gripping her with unseen fingers. “Leave me be!” she shouted, hurling the pendant to the ground. The Heartstone hit the earth, glinting faintly amongst the dark. The figure’s grin widened, revealing sharp teeth. “You are always welcome, Aurora.” The voice morphed, an echo that lingered, melding into the rustling leaves. Heart racing, Rory stumbled backward, each breath heavy as she turned. The shadows stretched, shifting closer, whispering her failures and fears. She sprinted, weaving through the standing stones, desperate to escape their grasp. Before she reached the edge of the grove, a frigid touch brushed against her arm. Her scream echoed in the stillness of night, swallowed by the dark, as the grove consumed the last remnants of her hesitation.