Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRKRQ5571075AJYH8EG4Z9

The cold wind skimmed over Aurora Carter's skin, its chill seeping through the fabric of her hoodie as she stepped into the Fae Grove. The ancient standing stones that marked its boundary loomed in the gathering darkness, gnarled shadows that seemed to whisper secrets to those who dared to venture past their watch. An eerie stillness cloaked the grove, broken only by the occasional thunk of her boots against the forest floor. She flicked her eyes around, taking in the bloom of wildflowers that stood vibrant even under the modest cover of night. Why am I here? Rory thought to herself, clutching the Heartstone Pendant around her neck. Its faint warmth offered a ripple of solace against the biting cold. Eva's words echoed in her head, urging her to investigate the soft crimson gem and its peculiar properties. "Here, in Richmond Park? You better not be joking, Eva," Rory muttered to herself, stepping gingerly between the eerie masses of oak. Eva had been adamant that Rory explore the grove, convinced the pendant held some murky connection to the fae-touched land. Rory had agreed, despite the unease gnawing at her when she contemplated the trip. Time behaved oddly within the grove, an unsettling notion Rory could already sense. Her breath sawed in and out of her chest, the rhythm slightly off, like her body danced to an unseen beat foreign to that of her own world. She halted abruptly, the soft murmur of leaves rustling against the inner-boundary of the grove sounding less like nature’s symphony and more like a conspiratorial hush between unseen creatures. She squinted into the dimly lit grove. Did something move? Just beyond the reach of her vision, something slithered out of sight. The pendant pulsed in the hollow of her throat, its inner glow casting faint crimson light on her fingers as she gripped it. Rory scanned the grove once more, her eyes straining to think she might catch another glimpse of movement. A twig snapped. She jolted, spinning to her right. Nothing but encroaching darkness and tendrils of mist seeping through the spaces between trees. “Hello?” Rory's voice wavered as she called out, betraying the collected demeanor she prided herself on. No answer came, only the whispering winds carrying her words deeper into the grove where they dissolved into nothingness. Her instincts flared – this place was all wrong. She reconsidered her plan to leave. Yet, curiosity and a nagging sense of unfinished purpose rooted her to the spot. This couldn't all be for nothing. There was something here, something the pendant meant to show her. She trudged onward, her footfalls muffled by old moss and fallen leaves. Shadows thickened, poured over each other like liquid darkness, concealing whatever lurked within the depths. Each step seemed to stretch time, minutes bleeding into hours, dread intertwining itself into thoughts, pricking like anxious needles. Every so often she paused, heart hammering, tense muscles strung tight as a bowstring, and scanned her surroundings. She couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched, an unfathomable gaze tracking her movements through the grove. Once or twice she could've sworn she heard the soft patter of feet trailing behind her, always stopping just as she turned her head. “Eva better have a damn good explanation,” Rory muttered, pressing deeper into the grove. As she went, the once-vivid wildflowers seemed to take on a more morose, wilting character, petals drooping as she passed. Dread pooled in her gut, yet her steps didn’t falter. Another whisper of movement at the edge of her vision. Rory willed herself not to look. Instead, she pressed on, focusing on the faint warmth and pulse from her pendant, letting it guide her through the encroaching dark. A shuffle of fabric against bark. A breath too quickly retracted. With a steely resolve, Rory flicked a glance to her left. There it was again - a flicker of movement, too swift to be natural. The remaining light cast devilish forms among the trees, their branches transforming under her fraught gaze into skeletal hands. She picked up her pace, boots scraping the earth with determined ferocity. Every nerve in her body screamed at her, pulse racing in concert with her rising panic. A soft chuckle. Rory stopped dead, her eyes wide and breath ragged as she scanned the grove. The laughter was neither close nor distant, yet it sent ice dripping down her spine. She clenched her fists, keeping the warmth of the pendant close to her palm, a flicker of sanity in the growing madness. “Who's there?” she demanded, forcing strength into her voice. “If you think this is funny, you’re mistaken!” Silence answered her – thick, oppressive, swallowing her words whole. She resumed her march, teeth grit as she focused on nothing but the path in front of her and the promise of finding an exit. A shriek pierced the air, high-pitched and blood-chilling. Rory bolted, adrenaline coursing through her veins, urging her to go faster, escape the unseen predator. Her feet struck the ground in rapid succession, heartbeat roaring in her ears. Minutes felt like hours in the time-warped grove. She sprinted past ancient oaks and wilted flowers, the malaise of the clearing closing in tighter with every step. The laughter came again, this time closer. Rory veered wildly, disoriented in the labyrinthine grove and its shifting shadows. The pendant's glow intensified, painting her path in a ghostly red. It pulled her, guiding her around bends and through dense clutches of trees with instinctive precision. She burst through the foliage, nearly colliding with the standing stones that marked the boundary. Chest heaving, she stumbled against one of the ancient oaks, the bark rough beneath her trembling hands. The warmth from her pendant ebbed, the crimson glow fading as she crossed the threshold and left the grove behind. Rory glanced back at the grove, the terror within finally setting into shaking realization. Whatever inhabited Isolde's grove was far more malevolent than she'd anticipated. She pressed a hand against the pulsing pendant and vowed that answers would be found, but not tonight. Tonight, she would regroup and try to make sense of the darkness she had escaped. The wind howled through the grove behind her, a feral wail that followed Rory as she made her way out of the park, reluctantly returning to the safety of her familiar world.