Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTYG1Q4FZ4V2RFZCQ6W6PWH

Rory's breath misted in the cold night air as she stepped through the gap in the ancient oaks. The standing stones loomed on either side, their rough bark black against the starless sky. She'd been to the Grove twice before—once with Isolde during daylight, once at dusk with Silas—but never alone. Never at midnight. The Heartstone pendant hung heavy against her chest, its usual warmth absent. She pressed her palm against it through her jacket, seeking reassurance in its familiar weight. The message had been clear: come alone, bring the pendant, learn the truth about what happened to Eva. Her boots crunched on frost-brittle grass as she moved deeper into the clearing. The wildflowers that bloomed eternal here drooped with unnatural stillness, their petals drained of color in the darkness. No wind stirred the leaves overhead. No insects chirped. Even the distant hum of London traffic had vanished the moment she'd crossed the threshold. "Hello?" Her voice fell flat, swallowed by the oppressive quiet. "I'm here. I brought what you asked." Nothing. She checked her phone—no signal, the clock frozen at 00:00. Time behaving strangely was normal for the Grove, Isolde had warned her, but this felt different. Wrong. The very air tasted stale, like breathing inside a sealed tomb. A branch snapped behind her. Rory spun, hand instinctively reaching for the pepper spray in her pocket. The trees stood motionless, shadows pooling between their trunks like spilled ink. "I know someone's there." She forced strength into her voice. "You asked me to come. Here I am." The clearing stretched before her, perhaps fifty meters across. She'd entered from the north side, she thought, though direction felt meaningless here. In daylight, a small stream had bubbled through the center, feeding the perpetual flowers. Now she saw no water, heard no gentle burble. Just bare earth where the stream should run, the soil dark and damp-looking. She took three steps forward and froze. The ground squelched beneath her boot. Not water. Something thicker. Don't look down. Keep moving. But she looked. Of course she looked. The earth glistened black-red in the faint light that seemed to emanate from nowhere and everywhere at once. Not soil. Not water. She jerked her foot back, bile rising in her throat. A low chuckle drifted from somewhere to her left. Not quite human. Not quite not. "You came." The voice slithered between the trees, seeming to speak from multiple directions at once. Male, female, neither, both. "Good. We have been waiting." "Where's Eva?" Rory's hand closed around the pepper spray. Useless, probably, against whatever inhabited this place, but the solid cylinder gave her something to grip. "Your message said you knew what happened to her." "Eva." The voice savored the name like wine. "Such a pretty thing. So trusting." Anger flared hot in Rory's chest, burning away some of the creeping dread. "If you've hurt her—" "Hurt?" Laughter again, closer now. "We don't hurt. We preserve. We keep. Forever and ever, world without end." Movement in her peripheral vision. Rory whipped her head right, caught a glimpse of something pale sliding behind an oak. Too tall to be human. Too fluid in its motion. "Show yourself." "But we are showing ourselves. Look closer, Aurora Carter. Look with eyes that truly see." The pendant flared sudden heat against her skin. She gasped, hand flying to her chest. The crimson stone pulsed through her jacket, its glow visible even through the fabric. In its light, the Grove transformed. The trees still stood, but now she saw what hung from their branches. Not leaves. Bodies. Dozens of them, suspended by threads so fine they might have been spider silk. They swayed gently though no wind blew, heads lolling, limbs slack. Men, women, children—ages and eras blending together. Their eyes were open. Staring. Aware. Rory's knees buckled. She caught herself, forced herself to remain standing. Don't show weakness. Don't— "Eva's not here." Her voice came out steadier than she felt. "I've looked at every face." "Haven't you?" The thing emerged from behind the oak, and Rory bit down on a scream. It wore the shape of a woman, but wrong. Too many joints in its arms. Skin that shifted like water, revealing glimpses of something else beneath—scales, fur, raw meat, naked bone, cycling through possibilities. Its face was beautiful one moment, rotted the next, ancient the next. Only the eyes remained constant: black, depthless, hungry. "Perhaps you don't recognize her. Time moves strangely here. A day outside..." It gestured languidly at the hanging bodies. "A century within. Or perhaps a century outside, a heartbeat within. We lose track." The creature glided closer. Rory backed away until rough bark pressed against her spine. Trapped between the monster and whatever tree held her. No. Not whatever tree. She forced herself to look up. Eva hung directly above her. Still twenty-two, still wearing the red dress from her birthday party three months ago, still perfect except for her eyes. Those bright green eyes Rory had known since childhood now stared at nothing, pupils dilated so wide the irises had all but vanished. "Eva." The name tore from Rory's throat. Her friend's head turned. Looked down. Blinked. "Rory?" Eva's voice, but distant, hollow. "Is that you? I've been waiting so long. So long. They said you'd come. They promised." "I'm here. I'm getting you down—" "No." Eva's face contorted in terror. "No, you have to run. You have to—" Her words cut off in a strangled gasp. The silk threads tightened, jerking her head back to its previous position. "She tried to warn you." The creature circled Rory like a shark, each step splashing in the blood-soaked earth. "Sweet girl. We offered her a bargain, you see. Her suffering for your safety. She chose you. Touching, really." "Let her go." "Oh, we couldn't possibly. Contracts are binding. But we could make another arrangement." It stopped directly in front of Rory, close enough that she could smell it—roses and rot, honey and bile. "You have something we want." The pendant burned hotter. Rory's hand closed over it protectively. "This? Why?" "Because it's not yours to have." The creature's face cycled faster now—child, crone, beast, beauty. "Because it calls to those who should remain sleeping. Because its very presence here is an abomination we cannot tolerate." "Then take it." Rory yanked the chain over her head, held the pendant out. "Take it and let Eva go." The creature recoiled as if burned. "We cannot touch it. Only the bearer may surrender it. Only the bearer may—" It stopped. Smiled with too many teeth. "But you would trade it? Truly? Your protection for her freedom?" Rory looked up at Eva's vacant eyes. Three months. Three months of this nightmare while Rory had lived above Silas' bar, delivered Chinese food, pretended life was normal. Eva had been here. Suffering. Waiting. "Yes." "Rory, no—" Eva's protest strangled off again. "Then we have a bargain." The creature extended one impossible hand. "The pendant for the girl. Freely given. Freely received."