Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRD96KBSDMFSJH9AJBK2BH

The crunch of gravel beneath her boots echoed unnaturally loud in the stillness of the Fae Grove. Rory pulled her jacket tighter against the chill as she made her way down the winding path, the ancient standing stones at the edge of the clearing looming before her. She wasn't sure what had compelled her to return to this place, but a restless feeling had drawn her back, tugging at the edges of her consciousness ever since she'd last set foot in the sacred grove. Even now, the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled with a vague sense of unease. As she neared the standing stones, a faint rustling in the underbrush beside the path made her pause, head cocking to one side. Straining her ears, Rory could hear nothing more, but the uneasy feeling only intensified. She pressed on, the Heartstone pendant at her throat pulsing with a dull warmth. The clearing was bathed in an eerie silvery light, the wildflowers that dotted the ground glowing faintly in the darkness. Rory's gaze was drawn irresistibly to the center, where a large, weathered oak stood, its branches twisting up toward the cloudless night sky. And there, beneath the ancient tree, was a figure. Rory's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't make out the details from this distance, but the sight of another person in this lonely, isolated place sent a shiver down her spine. Steeling her nerves, she approached cautiously, one hand slipping into the pocket of her jacket to grip the small Swiss army knife hidden there. As she drew closer, the figure resolved into the form of a woman, her back to Rory. She was kneeling in the grass, seemingly oblivious to Rory's presence. The Heartstone pendant pulsed with more urgency, its warmth intensifying against Rory's skin. "Hello?" Rory called out, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. The woman started, whirling around to face her. Rory's heart leapt into her throat at the sight of the woman's face — sunken, pale, with eyes that seemed to bore into her very soul. She opened her mouth, but no words came out, only a hollow, keening wail that made Rory's skin crawl. Rory stumbled back a step, fumbling for the knife in her pocket. The woman rose, moving with unnatural grace, and Rory caught a glimpse of what looked like tattered, decaying rags hanging from her frame. As the woman took a step forward, Rory caught a whiff of something foul, like rotting leaves and damp earth. Heartbeat pounding in her ears, Rory turned and ran, her boots pounding against the soft ground as she fled back down the path. But the woman — or whatever it was — was fast, unnaturally so, and Rory could hear the thud of feet behind her, gaining with every step. A branch snagged at her jacket, and Rory cried out as she stumbled, crashing to the ground. The knife clattered from her hand as she threw her arms up to shield her face, bracing for the impact of the woman's attack. But it never came. Cautiously, Rory lowered her arms, peering around warily. The path was empty, save for the rustling of the trees in the night breeze. Rory's heart was pounding in her chest as she pushed herself up, every nerve on high alert. She scanned the shadows, searching for any sign of the woman, but there was nothing. Shaking, Rory retrieved the knife and continued down the path, quickening her pace. She didn't stop until she reached the edge of the grove, the ancient standing stones looming before her. Pausing to catch her breath, she looked back, half-expecting to see the woman emerge from the darkness. But the grove was still, the only sound the faint hum of insects. Rory shuddered, turning her back on the clearing and hurrying toward the safety of the city. It wasn't until she was back in her flat, door locked securely behind her, that the adrenaline finally began to wear off. She sank down onto the couch, hands trembling as she pressed the Heartstone pendant, still warm, against her chest. What was that thing? And why had it been here, in the Fae Grove? Rory's mind raced, trying to make sense of what she had seen. The woman's face, sunken and decayed, had been unlike anything she had ever seen before. And the way she had moved, with such unnatural speed and grace — it was as if she wasn't quite...human. Rory shuddered, hugging herself tightly. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had been in the presence of something truly dark and malevolent. And the Heartstone's reaction... Frowning, Rory rose from the couch and crossed to the window, peering out into the night. The Grove was hidden from view, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was watching her, even now. With a sigh, she turned away, heading for the kitchen. She needed tea — strong and hot — to settle her nerves. As she waited for the kettle to boil, Rory couldn't help but wonder what other horrors might be lurking in the shadows of the Fae Grove.