Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRPDH61R6W251ANZNP9QXF

The air in the Fae Grove clung damp and heavy to Rory’s skin as she stepped past the ancient oak standing stones. Her breath came in shallow puffs, visible in the chill of the night. The pendant around her neck pulsed faintly against her chest, a steady warmth that somehow didn’t comfort her. She’d come here on a hunch, chasing whispers and half-remembered conversations overheard in Silas’ bar. Something about this place, they’d said, something about portals. The Grove was unnaturally still. Wildflowers blanketed the ground, their vibrant hues muted in the moonlight. She crouched to touch one, its petals soft and warm despite the cold air. Wrong. Flowers shouldn’t feel like that. She stood quickly, brushing her hands on her jeans as if to wipe away the sensation. The crunch of dry leaves behind her made her freeze. She turned, slow, her heart thudding in her ears. Nothing. The clearing stretched empty, silent. Just her imagination. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep moving. The pendant’s warmth grew stronger, guiding her deeper into the Grove. A low hum began, so faint she wasn’t sure it was real at first. It vibrated in her chest, resonating with the pendant. She stopped, listening. The sound didn’t come from any direction she could pinpoint. It was everywhere and nowhere, sliding into her ears like a whisper she couldn’t quite catch. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the pendant, its glow brighter now. The shadows between the trees shifted. Rory’s breath hitched. She stared, unblinking, but the movement didn’t repeat. Just her eyes playing tricks. Just the wind. Except there was no wind. The air was dead still. She took another step forward. The hum grew louder, more insistent. Her skin prickled, the feeling of being watched crawling up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing. Just the standing stones, dark and imposing against the night sky. She turned back—and froze. A figure stood among the trees. It was too far away to discern details, just a silhouette framed by moonlight. Rory’s pulse raced. Someone else was here. She hesitated, torn between calling out and staying silent. Before she could decide, the figure moved. It didn’t walk. It glided, unnaturally smooth, vanishing into the shadows. She exhaled sharply, her breath trembling. Probably nothing. Probably her mind conjuring shapes in the dark. She forced herself to keep walking, her steps quick and quiet. The pendant’s warmth was almost scorching now, its glow casting faint shadows on the ground. The hum deepened, vibrating in her bones. Another sound joined it—a soft rustling, like fabric brushing against leaves. Rory’s head snapped toward it. The shadows shifted again, quicker this time. She spun, scanning the trees. Nothing. Her throat tightened. She wasn’t imagining this. Something was here with her. The rustling came again, closer now. She backed up, her eyes darting around the clearing. The pendant’s glow flickered, its pulse erratic. The hum crescendoed, filling her ears until she could hear nothing else. She clapped her hands over her ears, but the sound wasn’t external. It was inside her head, throbbing like a second heartbeat. A low chuckle cut through the hum. Rory froze. The sound was unmistakable—deep, guttural, and utterly devoid of warmth. It echoed around the clearing, bouncing off the trees until she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Her fingers tightened around the pendant, its heat almost unbearable. “Who’s there?” Her voice shattered the silence, sharp and brittle. The chuckle came again, closer this time. The shadows shifted, coalescing into a solid presence. Rory’s instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. The figure emerged from the darkness, its form fluid and indistinct. It wasn’t human. Its edges blurred, as if it were made of smoke, and its eyes glowed faintly, twin points of light in the gloom. “Little human,” it purred, its voice dripping with amusement. “What brings you to my Grove?” She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. The pendant pulsed wildly, its glow casting flickering shadows on the figure’s face. It grinned, its mouth stretching too wide, revealing teeth that glinted like shards of glass. “Cat got your tongue?” It stepped closer, its movements unnervingly smooth. Rory stumbled back, her heel catching on a root. She fell, the impact jarring her bones. The figure loomed over her, its grin widening. “I’m—” Her voice cracked. She swallowed, forcing the words out. “I’m looking for something.” “Ah, everyone who comes here is looking for something.” The figure crouched, its face inches from hers. Its breath smelled of decay, sickly sweet and cloying. “But not everyone finds it.” Rory’s hand tightened around the pendant. It burned now, its glow blinding. The figure hissed, recoiling as if the light pained it. She scrambled to her feet, her legs shaking but holding. The figure straightened, its eyes narrowing. “Clever little human,” it sneered. “But the Grove isn’t kind to intruders.” The shadows around her shifted, dark shapes detaching themselves from the trees. They moved with the same fluidity, their eyes glowing faintly. Rory’s breath came in shallow gasps. She was trapped. The pendant’s glow faltered, its warmth fading. The figure laughed, low and cruel. “Run, little human. Run.” She didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted, her feet pounding against the soft earth. The shadows closed in around her, their laughter echoing in her ears. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. The pendant’s pulse matched her heartbeat, frantic and desperate. The trees blurred around her, their shapes twisting into grotesque forms. She couldn’t tell if she was running in a straight line or in circles. The Grove seemed endless, its boundaries shifting with every step. The shadows followed, always just out of reach, their laughter growing louder. She skidded to a halt, her chest heaving. The standing stones loomed ahead, their ancient oaks dark against the sky. She’d made it. She just had to reach them. She took a step forward—and froze. The figure stood in her path, its grin wider than ever. “Didn’t I tell you to run?” it purred, its voice dripping with mockery. Rory’s hand tightened around the pendant. Its glow flared, brighter than ever. The figure hissed, shielding its eyes. She lunged forward, dodging around it and sprinting toward the stones. The shadows converged behind her, their laughter deafening. She crossed the boundary of the Grove, the air changing instantly. The hum ceased, the laughter fading into silence. She collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. The pendant’s warmth returned, steady and reassuring. She glanced back. The Grove was empty.