Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRPWSQEAW341FPD1DH8DQV

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over Richmond Park as Aurora slipped through the ancient oak standing stones. Each step felt heavy, her breath catching as the air transformed. The chill prickled her skin, and she tightened her grip on the Heartstone pendant, its silver chain cool against her palm. An unfurling unease slithered up her spine, urging her to reconsider her decision to venture into the Fae Grove. She had read about this hidden clearing, a pocket between worlds where time meandered like a lazy stream, but the stories had omitted warnings of the shadows that lurked just beyond perception. Aurora strained to listen, the soft crunch of leaves beneath her feet the only sound in the thickening silence. The wildflowers that populated the grove waved gently, but their movements never sought an explanation. The night swallowed her words before she could utter a greeting to the unseen. “This is just a wildflower patch,” she murmured, her voice low. A lightness accompanied the statement, an attempt to shake off the creeping dread that encased her like fog. But the uneasiness lingered, whispering hints of something amiss. Rustling, barely perceptible, pricked her ears, drawing her attention. She turned abruptly, scanning the darkness, but saw nothing. Her pulse quickened. She pressed deeper into the grove, searching for any sign of life while keeping a careful balance between curiosity and caution. “What the hell am I doing?” She chuckled nervously, though the sound held no warmth. It echoed back to her with a chill, wrapping around her like a shroud. Something flickered in her periphery. Aurora’s heart raced, and she spun again. The shadows rippled among the trees, too quick to identify. A branch cracked behind her, loud in the pervasive quiet. She clenched the pendant harder. The faint warmth pulsed from it, the glow deepening to a ruby hue, illuminating her trembling hands. A memory resurfaced: Eva's warning about the grove, the tales of those who had wandered too far and returned marked by lingering shadows. Aurora shook her head as if the gesture could dispel the thought, momentarily bullying the fears down. But the sounds increased, a chorus of soft whispers brushing against her mind. She squinted into the void, straining against the invisible threads pulling at her, testaments to the unseen presence walking her trail. She took a step back, a shot of adrenaline steering her instincts. “If you’re there, show yourself!” Her voice cracked, wavering like a brittle twig. Silence enveloped her, thick and suffocating. The wind picked up, swirling through the grove, carrying whispers she couldn’t decipher. Then, a flash in the corner of her eye. She turned slowly, dread pooling in her stomach as a figure drifted between the trees, barely more than a wisp. It halted just at the tree line, motionless. The air thickened, a tight band around her chest. “Hello?” Aurora’s whisper slipped from her lips like a lost thing. Her heart jumped, straining against her ribcage, waiting for a response, yet nothing emerged. The figure shifted, the glint of moonlight catching on something metallic, a flash of brilliance before it vanished again, swallowed whole by shadows. Aurora stepped closer, driven by instinct and a sense of foolish curiosity that perhaps may lead to understanding. “Is anyone there?” Her voice climbed in pitch as she edged towards where she thought the figure stood. Soil crumbled beneath her foot, and she stumbled, the pendant’s heat intensifying against her chest. It beat like a heart—alive, pulsating, in time with her quickening pulse. Then, laughter. High-pitched, echoing through the grove, reverberating off the stone-like trees. It sliced through the air, a taunt. Aurora whipped around, wide-eyed, every nerve crackling. “Stop!” she shouted, but only the wind answered, rustling through the foliage like a mocking response. Then, silence. The shadows thickened; they leaned closer, hands almost brushing her skin as though craving warmth. Aurora felt the wrongness constrict around her like a tightening noose, the sense of being watched gnawing at her sanity. Her breath came rapid and shallow. The shadows flickered in and out of existence. Shapes darted in and out of the grove's periphery, lurking just beyond the flickering light of her pendant. It leaped violently as though it recognized something she did not, the warmth now bordering on burning—a warning. A voice emerged, soft and honeyed, weaving through the air, wrapping around her thoughts. “Why do you come here, Wretched One?” It harmonized with the laughter, the words heavy with something akin to pity. “Wretched?” Aurora straightened, the defiance in her voice a fragile shield against the encroaching dread. “I came searching for something.” She felt foolish admitting it, aware the reality of her journey felt small beneath the weight of this place. “Can you find it?” the voice chimed, now laced with mockery. “What you seek shall remain buried here, tethered to whispers of old.” Beneath her feet, the ground shifted. The roots of the ancient oaks twisted and coiled, contorting as if they conversed with the shadows. Dark tendrils snaked into her vision, grappling for clarity as the air thickened. The laughter rolled on, mingling with the hushed whispers that promised forgotten knowledge. “Leave while you still can, Aurora Carter,” another voice chimed in, distinctly laced with malice. “Who are you?” Aurora shouted, her voice stronger than she felt. The fear bubbled dangerously close to the surface. The shadows moved closer, their singular forms melding into something incomprehensible. Nothing met her question. A silence enveloped her once more, thick as fog. She felt the landscape shift, the fabric of reality swirling, bending the darkness tight against her skin. A figure detached itself from the shadows, its face obscured, but the blue flecks in its darkness struck a chord of familiar recognition in her chest. “Rory…” it sang, the name hanging heavily in the air, resonating with promises and warnings. Aurora staggered back, the pendant searing against her skin, illuminating the grove and revealing the creeping forms. There were eyes—many pairs—shifting, studying her. In the uncertainty that wrapped around her, Aurora knew one thing for certain: she was not alone. The grove pulsed with a hunger, ancient and insatiable. Time trudged on, dragging her deeper into its clutch. “Leave,” the figment whispered. “Leave, and take your heartstone with you.” A hand stretched, decaying fingers contrasting the beauty of the pendant. Aurora turned on her heel, the surroundings compressing around her as she fought against the weight of their gaze. Each footfall echoed - a retreat from destiny or a challenge inviting pursuit? With every breath she took, the suffocating knowledge that whatever lay ahead sought more than just a simple encounter crushed her hopes for escape. The laughter lingered in the grove, an echo of secrets that slid deeper into the unseen world. She ran, the pendant’s glow slowly fading behind her as she fled the horrors cloaked in shadows.