Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR99QWP9WX5RC53RNY46EH

Aurora Carter, known to few here as Rory, stepped out of the chill Richmond night and into the musty silence of The Fae Grove. The ancient oak standing stones, sentinel markers of the grove's boundary, loomed before her like specters, their gnarled branches etched against the moon's silver glow filtering through the canopy above. The wildflowers, oblivious to the season, swayed gently in the breeze, their colors muted in the dim light, like a muted palette of a mad artist. Rory's eyes, bright blue and ever alert, scanned the clearing, her gaze lingering on each element as if searching for something out of place. Her hand, adorned with the deep crimson Heartstone Pendant on its delicate silver chain, instinctively sought the reassuring pulse of the gemstone, a habit she'd developed since its mysterious arrival. Tonight, however, the warmth emanating from it seemed fainter, as if dampened by the very atmosphere of the grove. "I'm here," she whispered, the sound swallowed by the grove's silence. The words were meant for no one in particular, a ritualistic declaration of her presence in a place where time itself was notoriously capricious. Her靴 boots crunched on the gravel path as she moved deeper, the sound jarring in the stillness. Rory's mission was straightforward: to wait. Wait for whatever, or whoever, was supposed to meet her here at the stroke of midnight. The invitation, scrawled on a piece of parchment left on her doorstep without a return address, had been cryptic, speaking only of a "resolution" to her past troubles. The thought of Evan, her abusive ex, flared momentarily in her mind, but she quashed it, focusing instead on her surroundings. Something felt off. Not the grove itself — she'd been here before, under less ominous circumstances — but tonight, the air seemed heavy with an unspoken menace. Rory halted in the center of the clearing, her breath misting in the chill air. She listened. The night sounds were all wrong. Crickets provided a steady background hum, but there were gaps, silences that seemed to pulse like the Heartstone Pendant should. She turned slowly, her eyes probing the darkness beyond the silver-edged trees. "Is anyone here?" Her voice, a little louder now, sought to fill the void, to provoke a response from the oppressive silence. The only reply was the soft creaking of branches, a sound that could have been the grove itself shifting in the wind, yet seemed almost... deliberate. She took a step forward, her movements cautious, as if she feared disturbing a balance. The movement seemed to trigger a cascade of tiny sounds: a pebble rolling down a hidden slope, the snap of a twig, each sound distinct yet somehow muffled, as if filtered through a dense veil. Rory's grip on the pendant tightened. It was then she saw it — a flicker of movement, a shadow darting just beyond the edge of her vision. Her heart quickened, a slow, cold dread seeping into her bones. "Who's there?" The challenge cracked through the air, sharp and defiant. The response was immediate. Silence. Not just the absence of sound, but a palpable, heavy stillness, as if the grove itself was holding its breath in anticipation. The realization dawned on her, crawling up her spine like a cold, wet shroud: she was not alone in The Fae Grove. And whatever shared this space with her was watching, waiting for its moment, its presence as undeniable as it was unseen. The moon dipped below the canopy's horizon, plunging the grove into a darkness so profound, it seemed to have a life of its own. Rory, her back straight, her eyes straining into the void, whispered a single word, "Eva?" though she knew, deep within, that her friend was not the presence haunting the shadows. The darkness remained, unbroken and unresponsive, a living, breathing entity that enveloped her, a reminder that in The Fae Grove, under the cover of this oppressive night, she was at the mercy of forces beyond her understanding. And still, Rory waited, suspended in a sea of darkness, the Heartstone Pendant's warmth against her chest the only comfort in a place where time had lost all meaning, and terror lurked, unseen, just beyond the edge of every flickering shadow.