Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR4X0V3JKWH0MYZF29ZXVS

Aurora Carter pushed through brambles, breath gusting in her chest. The night pressed against her skin, thick as damp cloth. She tugged the Heartstone Pendant free from her jacket pocket, its silver chain cold against her palm. A faint warmth pulsed through the crimson gem—an invitation or a warning. She raised it, watched the inner glow flare and dim, like a heartbeat in shadow. The standing stones emerged from darkness: gnarled oaks carved by centuries of wind. Moss draped their trunks. Wildflowers glowed faintly at their bases, petals impossible pale under the starlight. Aurora’s boots sank into soft earth dusted with fallen leaves. She’d come here because the pendant had led her—guiding her steps through Richmond Park until the world bent and time stretched. Now she stood inside the Grove. The wrongness hit first as silence. No rustle of rabbits, no huff of deer escaping. Only the distant hum of London traffic, too muted, like a dream leaking through a hole. She frowned, chest tightening. “You hear that?” she whispered, though no one answered. A breeze stirred through the trees, but the air tasted stale. Aurora walked toward the largest stone, fingertips brushing its cool bark. Rings and knots tangled under her nails. She squatted, pressing her ear against rough wood. Nothing. No heartbeat, no hum. She straightened and scanned the clearing. The stones formed a circle, uneven like crooked teeth. In the center, blades of grass had been flattened. A shape. Footprints? She stepped closer. The grass reclaimed her steps, rising like it had never been pressed. Leaning down, she smelled something sharp—iron. “God.” She swallowed. The pendant’s glow brightened, an ache in her fingers. She swept the chain through her palm, followed its faint pulse north, toward the thicket. Branches scraped her arms as she plunged deeper. No path. Vines coiled around her ankles. She freed herself and found a hollow between two trees, where moonlight pooled. The ground there lay bare—brown soil darkened with moisture. Something lay half-buried. “Stop,” she told herself. But hunger for answers overrode fear. She knelt and brushed dirt away. A shape like a small bone, curved. She touched its tip. Cold. “What—” She jerked back. The pendant had blazed with heat so sudden she flinched. It swung free, catching moonlight. The gem glowed deep crimson. Aurora’s heart hammered. She flicked her eyes around. Shadows flickered between trees as if something moved at the edge of her vision. She spun, arms wide, ready to run. But the clearing yawned empty. Breathe. She placed a hand over the pendant, chest rising and falling in uneven spasms. She’d tracked a Hel portal here, according to legends. The wrong bones, the missing shards of stone. Whatever drew her would tell her now. A twig snapped. A single note in the hush. She froze. The sound came again—closer, deliberate. She held her breath, listened. Footsteps? No—something heavier; footsteps wouldn’t sound this hollow, like taps on wood. The standing stones… They creaked. Shook. She stumbled back. Behind her, a stone groaned and split. A narrow crack lunged upward, revealing deeper darkness. Lines of wet black seeped from between the fissures. Aurora’s phone slipped from her jacket, clattering to the ground. Its screen fractured but stayed alight. She pulled it close. The flashlight fell across the oozing rock. The blackness inside twitched, as though alive. She dared not look away. Every instinct screamed to run. Her fingers slipped the pendant over her head. The chain snapped taut at her throat. The gem hovered over her heart. Warmth spread from it, reaching through bone and muscle. A memory glimmered: Eva’s words that morning. “Trust it. It will guide you. Promise.” Aurora’s throat closed around a sob. Another sound—barely more than breath. She turned. Between two stones, something crouched. Tall enough for a man, long limbs bent at odd angles. Its head cocked, silhouette jagged. No eyes reflected back. Just a pale shape, like bone carved from moonlight. Aurora froze. The creature moved. A finger tapped the cracked stone, rhythm steady. One… two… three… The tapping circled, echoing through the clearing. She swallowed. “I’m not here to hurt you.” Her voice sounded raw. “I just want to know…” Silence. The tapping stopped. Her pulse thundered. The creature stepped forward. Leaves shivered under its weight. It tilted its head again. Then thrust thin arms outward, palms up. No face. The glow from the Heartstone intensified. Aurora clutched it, feeling heat climb her neck. She watched as the gem’s light spilled onto the creature’s limbs. The edges of its form wavered, as if the light burned it. Something snapped behind her. A branch. She spun, ready to attack. Nothing there. She blinked—and the Coat of Leaves, a fallen bough hung with delicate foliage, shivered. Leaves rattled like bone against bone. Then the thing to her right hissed. She jumped. The creature lunged, swift as a striking snake. Aurora screamed, stumbled back, crashing into a standing stone. Pain flared in her shoulder. She slumped, terror taking her limbs. The gem throbbed. She let its glow flood her vision. Hot light braced her chest. The creature halted, drawn back. Its form warped. The outline grew fainter. It swayed, as though caught in a current. A low groan pulsed through the Grove, rising in pitch, a chorus of whispers sewn into one. Words she couldn’t understand, but meaning was clear: Go. Aurora forced herself upright. She met the creature’s gesture, raising an open palm. “Okay,” she gasped. “I go.” She took a step backward. Light from the pendant traced her path. The creature bent toward her, then withdrew as she retreated. She reached the boundary of stones. One by one, they blinked out under the gem’s glare, until only darkness and moonlight remained. No pale wildflowers. No whispering wind. Just the outside world leaking in—distant horns, distant shouts. She broke into a jog, heart hammering in her throat. Reaching the last oak, she paused. Darkness pooled beyond. She held the pendant up. Its warmth receded, leaving only a faint pulse. The grove vanished, replaced by familiar undergrowth and the trail she’d worn. Branches scraped overhead. She inhaled cool night air, scent of pine and damp earth. Her chest stung where the stone had hit her shoulder, but she ignored it. A soft laugh fluttered through the trees. She whirled, expecting someone—friend or foe—but nothing moved. The path lay empty, moonlight spilling over uneven ground. Heart rattling, she pressed on. At the edge of the Grove she found her bike, wheels sunk into mud. She snatched at the handlebars, pulled it free. The chain clanged as she wheeled it down the trail. The pendant swung at her chest, a steady glow against her black jacket. Behind her, the Grove sighed. The stones shifted. A gap opened between two oaks. Aurora glanced back. The clearing lay empty again. No footprints. No creature. Only silence. She pushed the bike harder. The whispers chased her down the path. They lingered at her back even after she burst into open parkland, headlights from a distant car slicing through pines. Six minutes had passed outside. To her, hours. She rode off into the night, chest heaving. Somewhere in the gloom, a faint glow pulsed once, then faded.