AI Aurora stepped into The Fae Grove, her breath catching in her throat. Dark trees loomed over her, twisting branches clawing at the inky sky. The air, thick with humidity, wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. Deep crimson flowers glistened in the dim light filtering through the leaves. They stood like ominous sentinels , silently judging her presence.
She clutched the Heartstone pendant at her neck, feeling its warmth pulse against her skin, sending a reassuring thrum through her body. It beckoned her deeper into the Grove, closer to the ancient oak standing stones that marked the boundary between this world and the unknown. A chill ran down her spine despite the warmth of the Heartstone.
Rory always found solace in nature, but tonight, something felt distinctly off. She peered into the underbrush, the darkness seemed thicker, almost sentient. A rustle startled her, and she swung around, eyes darting. Just shadows—only shadows.
“Get a grip,” she murmured to herself, her voice swallowed by the silence . "It's just the wind."
As she forged ahead, the faint sounds of the city—distant sirens and murmurings—faded, replaced by an eerie stillness. The trees whispered, leaves shivered under an unseen breath. Aurora remembered Eva’s warnings, the strange tales woven over pints in smoky bars: “Don’t linger too long in the Grove, Rory. Time’s different there.”
Ahead, something flickered —a hint of movement? She squinted, but it vanished before her eyes could make it out. Rory took a tentative step closer, the unease tightening in her chest. She instinctively reached for her wrist, where the crescent scar from a childhood accident still throbbed faintly, a reminder of vulnerability.
“Hello?” she called out, voice steady despite the quavering of her core. The woods swallowed her words, leaving the tension to thicken. No reply. Nothing but the rustle of leaves, and the creeping sensation that something watched her.
Shrugging off her discomfort, Rory pressed on, determined to find what she came for—a glimpse of the portal. The stories said the Heartstone revealed it, but she hadn’t expected to feel so…exposed.
Then there it was—a soft glow, shimmering just beyond the standing stones. Rory’s heart raced . This had to be it. She stepped closer, the Grass crunching underfoot. The pulsating warmth from the Heartstone escalated as she crossed into the circle of standing stones, each ancient oak towering above her like a protective guardian—or perhaps a prison warden.
She gasped as the portal came into view, a swirling mass of colors, vibrant yet dark. It beckoned, promising secrets and what-ifs.
Another noise reached her, a low growl, echoing in the stillness. She froze, eyes wide, scanning the surroundings. Shadows shifted on the edges of her vision, darting from one tree to another. Everything grew heavier, a weight pressing against her chest.
“Who’s there?” Rory asked, voice steady . “You can show yourself.”
Silence enveloped her once more. Maybe she was being foolish, letting the stories get to her. The Heartstone pulsed regularly now, synchronizing with her quickening heartbeat. Ignoring the prickling sensations crawling along her skin, she stepped closer to the portal, reached forward.
A sharp snap echoed , like a twig breaking underfoot. Rory recoiled, heart thumping violently against her ribcage. She turned slowly , searching.
“Show yourself!” she shouted, defiant .
Silence.
Just as she thought she might turn back, a figure darted between the trees. It was quick—rapid movement barely catching the corner of her eye.
Rory gulped but pressed onward. The pull of the portal consumed her thoughts. She needed to know what lay beyond. A branch snapped again, louder this time, and she turned her gaze wildly.
“Alright, enough games!”
Then it happened—the air shimmered , expanded, as if breathing . The Heartstone hung heavy, a beacon in the night pulling her closer.
“Rory...”
A voice—soft, almost a whisper —drifted through the trees, warm and inviting, yet laced with an unshakable tension .
She blinked, looking around. “Who’s there?”
Silence followed again, thick with anticipation . The trees swayed, an unseen wind with no origin. A flash of movement caught her eye, too quick to discern, but a feeling of dread gripped her.
“Rory...” The voice rolled through the grove once more, beckoning her, wrapping around her thoughts like a vine.
Her pulse quickened—was it a trick, a lure? Had she stepped into a game she didn't understand?
Shaking her head, she took a step back from the glowing portal. Instinct warned her. The shadows crept closer, swirling against the backdrop of the trees.
“Stop!” she yelled, hoping the command would somehow halt whatever it was stalking her.
The shadows shifted, no longer mere tricks of the light. They formed shapes, grotesque and elongated, shifting under the canopy. She turned, heart racing , and took another fearful step back. The pendant’s pulse quickened , warning her of their approach.
“Don’t,” she heard, barely a breath in the air. It sounded like a warning, or perhaps a plea .
“No,” she countered, feeling her back hit the rough bark of a tree. “You’re not taking me…”
The shadows writhed as the figures moved closer, their features indistinct, pooling darkness. They elongated, twisted limbs reaching toward her. Fear surged through her, her instincts screaming for her to run, but she stood frozen.
A flash illuminated the grove—a crackling burst of energy shot from the portal, bright and blinding. The shadows paused, retreating slightly , hissing like smoke caught in a flame. She felt a strange disconnect; the air trembled with a strange current, urging her to choose.
“Rory,” the voice sang again, gentle yet terrified of what loomed in the dark.
The portal pulsated, a poignant reminder of possibility and danger. Her fingers tightened around the Heartstone, a last tether to this world. If she stepped through, would she be lost to shadows?
Suddenly, a deep, malevolent growl echoed , sending a jolt through her spine. The shadows coiled back, rippling like water disturbed, and she gritted her teeth.
“Get away from me!” she shouted, finally breaking the paralysis gripping her limbs.
With a deep breath, she turned, footfall loud and wild on the earth, and fled. The shadows hissed, the voice calling after her, desperate, almost pleading.
“Rory!”
But she wouldn't stop. Not tonight.
Under the canopy of twisted trees, she darted, heart racing and footsteps pounding . The grove whispered and shouted, the echoes of the portal behind her fading into the wind. The cacophony of shadows left her breathless, but the familiar cityscape echoed in her ears, drawing her ever forward. She pushed through the tangled branches, tearing at her clothes and skin, but the thrill of fear kept her going.
She would not be taken. Not tonight. Not ever.
As the wildflowers swayed with her escape, she burst through the standing stones and into the night, gasping for the cool air that swept over her. The dread lingered, coiling around her like a lingering mist, as the grove receded behind her, but she had escaped— for now.