Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTYCPDS2YJT7JS3R8JJVJZK

Rory clutched the handlebars of her scooter, the chill of the late autumn air biting at her exposed cheeks. The familiar rumble of London traffic faded behind her as she navigated the winding paths of Richmond Park, the city’s ambient glow a distant apology for the encroaching darkness. Her heart hammered a tight rhythm against her ribs, a counterpoint to the scooter’s engine. She’d come here for Eva, for answers, but the dread that had settled in her stomach hours ago had only tightened its grip. The scooter’s headlight beam cut a shaky swathe through the inky blackness, illuminating damp earth and the skeletal silhouettes of trees. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of wet leaves and something else… something ancient and earthy, like disturbed soil or forgotten roots. Rory’s breath plumed in front of her, then dissolved into the oppressive stillness. Silence pressed in, an almost physical weight, broken only by the rhythmic whir of the scooter. She killed the engine. The sudden absence of sound was deafening. The only noise now was the frantic drumming of her own pulse in her ears. She stood, scooter’s weight grounding her, and scanned the perimeter. Nothing. Just trees, their branches like grasping claws against a starless sky. The ancient oak standing stones, her marker, loomed ahead, darker than the surrounding night. She’d found them before, in daylight, a curious detour on a rare day off. Now, they felt like teeth in a gaping maw. She dismounted, pushing the scooter into the undergrowth until it was hidden from the path. The faint warmth of the Heartstone Pendant pulsed against her sternum, a tiny ember of reassurance against the encroaching fear. It had been glowing faintly for the last hour, a steady thrum against her skin. Hel portal, the little voice in her head whispered, the same voice that always offered unwelcome truths when things went sideways. Rory took a tentative step towards the stones. A twig snapped somewhere to her left. She froze, straining her ears. The park was closed at this hour. No one should be here. She waited, every nerve ending alight, but no further sound came. Just the sighing of the wind through the leaves, a sound that seemed to carry a thousand whispers. She moved again, her boots crunching softly on fallen leaves. The air grew colder as she passed between the standing stones. It wasn’t a natural chill. It was a deep, profound cold that seeped into her bones, stealing the warmth from her skin. The world shifted, subtle and imperceptible, like a breath held too long. The scent of wild roses, impossibly sweet and out of season, bloomed around her. Flowers, her mind supplied, wildflowers that bloomed year-round here. A pocket between worlds. A flicker of movement at the edge of her vision. She whipped her head around. Nothing. Just shadows playing tricks. But the unease solidified, a hard knot of something foul in her gut. It felt like being watched, not by one pair of eyes, but by many, hidden and patient. She tightened her grip on the scooter’s handlebars, her knuckles white. Her breathing grew shallow. The pendant’s warmth amplified, a tiny beacon flaring against the oppressive, encroaching darkness. "Eva?" she called out, her voice a thin thread in the vast silence. No answer. She took another step. The ground beneath her feet felt softer, more yielding, as if she walked on damp moss, though her boots still made rustling sounds. The trees here were different. Their bark seemed to twist and writhe, their branches interlocked overhead, forming a canopy that swallowed the faint starlight. The air thrummed with a low, resonant hum, a sound that vibrated not in her ears, but deep within her chest. A rustle, closer this time. From the dense thicket to her right. Rory spun around, her gaze fixed on the spot. A pair of eyes, pale and luminous, gleamed in the darkness for a fleeting instant before vanishing. Not animal eyes. Something else. Something intelligent and ancient. "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice shaking despite her best efforts. The hum intensified, growing louder, more insistent. It felt like the world was vibrating around her, the very air thick with an unseen presence. Her blood ran cold. This was beyond anything she had experienced before. She thought of Evan, his cruelty, but this was a different kind of terror. Evan had been human. This was… not. A faint glow emanated from the woods ahead, a soft, ethereal light that pulsed with the rhythm of the hum. It drew her, a moth to a flame, against every instinct screaming at her to flee. The pendant throbbed against her skin, a frantic heartbeat mirroring her own. She pushed forward, towards the light. The trees shifted, parting as she approached, revealing a clearing. Wildflowers of impossible colours carpeted the ground, their petals glowing with their own internal luminescence. In the centre of the clearing stood a single, gnarled oak, its branches reaching upwards like supplicating arms. And beneath it, half-hidden in the luminous bloom, something stirred. Rory’s throat went dry. The air crackled with an unseen energy. She could feel it pressing in on her, a tangible force. The pendant pulsed with a fierce heat now, a frantic warning. The whispers returned, louder than before, a cacophony of sibilant voices that seemed to coil around her, slithering into her mind. They spoke in a language she didn’t understand, yet their meaning was terrifyingly clear. She was not welcome. She was prey.