Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTY4EGKXGF8Z3TCDTAE6KYQ

Aurora pushed through the barrier of ancient oak standing stones. The air shifted instantly, heavy and sweet like rotting lilies. Richmond Park lay behind her, swallowed by the London night, but here the darkness possessed a texture. She adjusted the collar of her jacket. The silver chain of the Heartstone Pendant rested against her skin, the deep crimson gemstone pulsing with a heat that had nothing to do with body temperature. She walked into the clearing. Wildflowers bloomed in the mud, petals unfurled despite the lack of sun. Bluebells and foxgloves stood tall, their colours saturated beyond natural limits. They glowed under the moonlight. Aurora stopped. Her breath plumed in front of her face, white and steady. She touched the scar on her left wrist. The crescent shape felt tight, the skin pulling. A branch snapped somewhere to her right. Aurora turned. The trees stood in a perfect circle around the clearing, their branches interlocked to form a ceiling. No wind moved the leaves. The silence pressed against her ears. She waited. The stillness held. She continued toward the center of the Grove. The ground felt spongy, absorbing the sound of her boots. The pendant burned hotter. She slipped her fingers around the gem. The silver chain bit into her neck. "Eva?" The name hung in the air. No echo returned. The sound died the moment it left her lips. She checked her watch. The second hand ticked backward. She tapped the glass. The hand jerked forward, then stopped again. Time moved differently here. An hour inside could be minutes outside. Or days. She needed to find the source of the signal and leave. Something rustled in the undergrowth. Not the scuttle of an animal. This sounded like fabric dragging over dry leaves. Aurora froze. Her bright blue eyes scanned the perimeter. The shadows between the trunks looked solid, darker than the night should allow. She took a step back. The flowers turned their heads. She blinked. The foxgloves faced her now. Moments ago they faced the center. She rubbed her eyes. Plants did not move. Not like that. The pendant seared her skin. She released it. The heat remained, radiating from the stone into her chest. A whisper drifted from the left. Indistinct. Like voices underwater. Aurora spun around. Nothing stood there. Only the ancient oaks. Their bark resembled twisted faces, deep grooves forming eyes and mouths. She walked toward the nearest tree. The wood felt warm. Vibrating. "Show yourself." Her voice sounded thin. The darkness absorbed the challenge. She moved deeper into the clearing. The path she had taken from the stones vanished. The grass stood uniform, unbroken by footprints. Her own tracks behind her had disappeared. She looked down. The mud smoothed over as if water washed it clean. The temperature dropped. Her breath came faster. She pulled her jacket tighter. The wildflowers released a stronger scent, cloying and thick. It coated the back of her throat. A shadow detached itself from the tree line. It stood human-shaped but lacked definition. No features. Just a void in the shape of a person. Aurora held her ground. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She reached for the pendant again. The crimson glow intensified, casting red light on her hands. The shadow did not move closer. It did not move away. She took a step toward it. The shadow stepped back. She stopped. The shadow stopped. A twig snapped behind her. Close. Within arm's reach. Aurora did not turn. She kept her eyes on the shadow in front. The air behind her neck grew cold. A presence stood at her back. She could feel the radiation of something living. Something waiting. The whispering grew louder. Words formed in the noise. Her name. "Rory." The voice came from everywhere. From the trees. From the ground. From inside her own head. She gripped the Heartstone. The silver chain tightened. Her knuckles turned white. The red light pulsed in rhythm with the whispering. The shadow in front of her raised an arm. It pointed at the ground at her feet. Aurora looked down. The wildflowers around her boots wilted instantly. Petals turned black and crumbled to dust. The decay spread outward in a circle. She stepped back. The decay followed. The presence behind her breathed. The air hit her ear. Warm. Wet. She swung around. Nothing stood there. Only the empty space where something had been. The shadow in front vanished. The clearing stood empty. The flowers remained wilted in a perfect circle around her. The pendant cooled. The warmth faded completely. Aurora stood still. Her muscles locked. She listened. The silence returned, heavier than before. The trees leaned inward. The branches lowered. A sound came from above. Dry wood creaking. She looked up. The branches woven together above shifted. They opened. The moonlight disappeared. The Grove plunged into total darkness. She fumbled for her phone. The screen lit up her face. No signal. The time read 00:00. She lowered the phone. The light died. In the darkness, something brushed her hair. She swung her arm out. Her hand hit nothing. Air. The scent of rotting lilies intensified. It choked her. She covered her mouth. Footsteps circled her. Slow. Deliberate. Boots on mud. Her boots. But she stood still. The circling stopped. The footsteps stood directly in front of her. She could not see them. She could only hear the breathing. Her left wrist itching. The scar burned. She struck a match. The flame flared bright yellow. The light revealed a pair of eyes at her eye level. They reflected the flame. No pupils. Just white spheres. The match burned her fingers. She dropped it. Darkness returned. The eyes remained. Glowing faintly in the black. She backed away. Her heel caught on a root. She stumbled. The eyes moved with her. She scrambled to her feet. The pendant remained cold. The heat was gone. The signal was gone. The breathing stopped. Aurora stood in the center of the Fae Grove. The wildflowers stood tall again. Unwilting. Vibrant. She waited for a sound. Any sound. The trees stood silent. The stones stood silent. A single leaf fell from the canopy. It landed on her shoulder. She brushed it off. The leaf turned to ash in her hand. She looked at the ash. It blew away in a wind she could not feel. The darkness pressed closer. The boundary of the clearing shrank. The oaks moved inward. She walked toward where the entrance should be. Her hand reached out to touch the bark. The wood felt like skin. Soft. Yielding. She pulled her hand back. A imprint of her fingers remained in the wood. Bleeding sap. The sap smelled like copper. Like blood. She wiped her hand on her jeans. The stain remained. The whispering started again. Closer. "Rory." She ran. The ground stretched. Her legs pumped. The trees did not get closer. The clearing expanded. She ran toward the stones. They receded. She stopped. Chest heaving. The stones stood where they started. She had not moved. The pendant vibrated. A low hum. She looked at the gem. The crimson color deepened. Black veins spread through the stone. The eyes appeared again. Ten pairs. Twenty. Lining the tree trunks. Watching. She stood still. Her breath hitched. The eyes blinked. In unison. The darkness lifted slightly. Grey light filtered through the branches. Dawn? Or something else. The flowers opened wider. Mouths formed in the petals. They whispered together. "Stay." Aurora clenched her fists. Her nails dug into her palms. The pendant grew hot again. Burning. She tore at the chain. The clasp stuck. The heat spread down her chest. She grabbed a stone from the ground. Rough edge. She sliced the chain. The pendant fell into the mud. The humming stopped. The eyes closed. The flowers wilted. Silence returned. Aurora stood over the pendant. The crimson gem stared up at her. A hand reached out from the mud. Pale. Long fingers. It grasped the pendant. Aurora stepped back. The hand pulled the pendant down. Into the earth. The mud sealed over. The flowers bloomed again. Instantly. The eyes opened. The whispering grew loud. A chorus. "Stay." Aurora turned. The path behind her remained blocked. The trees stood solid. She walked toward the center. The only place left to go. The ground softened. Her boots sank. The wildflowers brushed against her legs. They felt like fingers. She reached the center. A single oak tree stood alone. Larger than the rest. The bark formed a face. Her face. She touched the wood. The wood felt warm. The eyes on the trees opened wider. The whispering stopped. Only the sound of her own heart remained. Thump. Thump. Thump. The tree's mouth opened.