Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTYQBYPN99NTBG6P9P2F5RR

The crescent moon hung low over Richmond Park as Aurora Carter slipped through the iron gates, the Heartstone pendant warm against her collarbone. She pulled her jacket tighter against the autumn chill, checking over her shoulder one last time before following the crumbling path into the trees. The pendant had been pulsing steadily since sunset, a silent alarm she couldn't ignore. The ancient oak standing stones loomed ahead, their gnarled surfaces gleaming wetly in the moonlight. Something was wrong. The wildflowers that should carpet the grove year-round had withered, their petals curled inward like clenched fists. The air hung heavy and still, devoid of the usual nighttime rustle of small creatures. Even the wind seemed to avoid this place. Rory stepped between the standing stones, the temperature dropping several degrees. The pendant grew hotter, its crimson glow visible against the black fabric of her shirt. She unclasped it, holding it out like a compass. The light pulsed faster, casting bloody shadows across the trampled grass. "Hello?" she called, her voice swallowed by the unnatural silence. "Is someone there?" A twig snapped to her left. Rory spun around, heart pounding against her ribs. Nothing. Just the dark trees pressing in, their branches twisted into unnatural shapes. She told herself it was just an animal, but the pendant's frantic pulse told a different story. She pressed on toward the center of the grove, where the veil between worlds thinnest. The pendant's heat became almost unbearable, forcing her to stuff it back into her shirt. The temperature continued to drop, her breath fogging in the air despite the mild evening. The first whisper came from behind her, barely audible over her own footsteps. Rory stopped, listening. Nothing. She began walking again, faster now. Another whisper, closer this time. Words she couldn't quite make out, layered over each other like static. She broke into a run, heading for the far side of the clearing where the boundary stones marked the way out. The pendant burned against her skin. The whispers grew louder, forming into something almost like her name, but not quite. "Aurora... Aurora..." Rory stumbled over something soft and yielding. She looked down, bile rising in her throat. A perfect circle of dead wildflowers, their stems broken at unnatural angles. She hadn't seen it when she entered. Movement at the edge of her vision. Rory spun around, fists raised. A shadow detached itself from the trees, tall and slender and wrong. It had too many joints, folding in ways that made her eyes ache. The pendant's glow intensified, illuminating the creature's face—or what should have been a face. Instead, there was only a smooth expanse of pale skin, featureless except for a single dark hole where a mouth should be. Rory backed away slowly, her mind racing. The creature mimicked her movements, its limbs bending backward as it mirrored her retreat. The whispers intensified, now clearly calling her name in a voice that sounded like her own but corrupted. The creature lunged. Rory dodged, rolling across the damp earth and coming up near a standing stone. Her fingers scrabbled against the rough bark, searching for the handholds Eva had shown her months ago—the emergency escape route. The pendant seared her skin, its light now blinding. The creature was upon her, its too-long fingers reaching for her throat. Rory found the hidden notch in the stone and pressed. The world tilted sideways, colors bleeding into each other as the grove's magic fought against her escape. The creature's fingers brushed her cheek, cold as death. She tumbled through the opening, the standing stone sealing shut behind her with a sound like grinding teeth. Rory lay gasping on the normal forest floor, the pendant still burning against her skin. The moon looked different here—higher, brighter, somehow more real. But the whispers followed her out, faint now but still present. They curled around the edges of her consciousness, waiting. The pendant's glow faded, but its warmth remained, a constant reminder that whatever she had encountered wasn't finished with her yet.