Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTYWM15MH6VJHEPRQRNYZ69

The air in the Grove was thick, almost syrupy, as if each breath required more effort than the last. Rory stepped over the threshold of the ancient oak standing stones, her boots crunching on the frost-kissed grass. The Heartstone pendant hung heavy around her neck, its faint inner glow casting a crimson halo over her coat. She adjusted the strap of her satchel, the weight of Silas’ cryptic instructions pressing on her mind. “Find the center,” he’d said. “Trust the stone.” She didn’t trust the stone. Not really. It had been warm all day, pulsing softly against her chest like a second heartbeat, guiding her here. Now, under the pale light of the waxing moon, it felt colder than the night air. The Grove was silent. Too silent. The wildflowers lining the path should’ve been alive with the hum of crickets or the rustle of nocturnal creatures. Instead, there was nothing. Just the faint whisper of wind through the trees and the occasional creak of branches overhead. Rory walked slowly, her eyes scanning the shadows. A sound stopped her mid-step — a soft, wet crunch, like footsteps on damp earth. She turned sharply, her hand instinctively clutching the pendant. Nothing. The path behind her was empty, the shadows still and quiet. She exhaled, her breath visible in the cold air, and continued forward. The deeper she ventured, the more the Grove seemed to shift around her. The path, once clear and defined, now twisted and branched in ways she didn’t remember. The wildflowers, vibrant and colorful in daylight, now looked almost black under the moonlight, their petals curled inward like they were hiding something. Rory paused, her fingers brushing against the small crescent-shaped scar on her wrist. A childhood accident, her mother had called it. She’d always wondered how she could’ve gotten it without remembering. Another sound — a faint giggle, high-pitched and mocking, echoing from somewhere to her left. Rory froze, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She turned her head slowly, her eyes scanning the trees. The giggle came again, closer this time, followed by the rustle of leaves. A shadow darted between the trees, too fast to make out any detail. “Who’s there?” she called, her voice steady despite the unease creeping up her spine. The Grove swallowed her words, leaving only silence in their wake. She moved faster now, her boots pounding against the path. The pendant swung against her chest, its glow intensifying, casting long shadows that danced around her. Another laugh, louder this time, sounded from behind her. She spun around, but there was only darkness. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her fingers curling into fists. “Stop playing games,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. The Grove didn’t respond. It only watched, silent and unyielding. The path ended abruptly, opening into a clearing. At its center stood a tree unlike any she’d ever seen — its bark black and smooth, its branches twisted into unnatural shapes. The air around it was colder, the silence heavier. Rory hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to turn back. But the pendant pulsed insistently, urging her forward. She stepped into the clearing, the ground soft beneath her boots. The tree loomed ahead, its branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. She could feel its presence, a weight pressing against her chest, making it harder to breathe. The pendant’s glow grew stronger, casting the clearing in an eerie crimson light. Another giggle, this time from directly behind her. Rory spun around, her eyes wide. A figure stood at the edge of the clearing, its features obscured by shadow. It was too tall, too thin, its limbs elongated and grotesque. Its head tilted to the side, and it stepped forward with a grace that was insect-like, unnatural. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took a step back, her boots sinking into the soft earth. The figure mirrored her movement, its head tilting again, its movements jerky and disjointed. She could feel its eyes on her, though she couldn’t see them, couldn’t make out any details in the darkness. “What do you want?” she demanded, her voice trembling now. The figure didn’t respond. It only giggled again, the sound sending a chill down her spine. She stumbled backward, her foot catching on a root. She fell hard, the impact jarring her teeth. The pendant swung free from her coat, its glow illuminating the clearing. The figure paused, its head snapping toward the stone. For a moment, it seemed to hesitate, its movements less sure. Rory scrambled to her feet, her chest heaving. The pendant’s warmth returned, pulsing faintly against her skin. She clutched it tightly, her eyes locked on the figure. It tilted its head again, its giggle quieter now, almost curious. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves overhead. The figure stepped back, its form blurring into the shadows until it was gone. Rory stood frozen, her heart pounding in her ears. The clearing was silent once more, the only sound the faint whisper of wind through the trees. She glanced down at the pendant, its glow fading back to its usual faint pulse. The tree loomed behind her, its twisted branches casting long shadows over the ground. She turned away, her boots crunching on the frost-kissed grass as she hurried back down the path. The Grove seemed different now, the shadows deeper, the silence heavier. She could feel its eyes on her, watching, waiting. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Not until she reached the standing stones and stepped over the threshold, the weight of the Grove’s presence lifting as soon as she was out. She stood there for a moment, her chest heaving, her fingers still clutching the pendant. The air was colder now, the moon higher in the sky. She glanced back at the Grove, its ancient oak standing stones silent and still. Something giggled behind her, faint and distant. She didn’t turn around.