Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTZ3TQWCAABMRFFXM9DMJK0

The ancient oak standing stones marked the boundary like broken ribs protruting from the earth. Rory stepped past the threshold where Richmond Park ended and the Grove began. Darkness clung to the clearing, thick and heavy, yet the wildflowers bloomed in vibrant defiance of the November chill. Petals of violet and burnt orange opened wide, drinking in moonlight that shouldn't reach the forest floor. The air smelled of ozone and wet earth, mixed with the cloying sweetness of the blooming flowers. The scent made her stomach turn. She adjusted the collar of her jacket. The silver chain bit into the skin of her neck. The Heartstone pendant rested against her sternum, cold as ice despite the crimson gemstone's usual warmth. She pressed her thumb against the stone. Nothing. No pulse. No heat. "Come on," she whispered. Her breath plumed in the air, white and sharp. "You brought me here." The silence answered. No crickets chirped. No owls hooted. The stillness pressed against her eardrums, a physical weight. She walked toward the centre of the clearing. Her boots crushed dry leaves, though the ground beneath the flowers remained bare dirt. The sound echoed too loud, bouncing off trees that stood too close together. The trunks leaned inward, creating a canopy that blocked out the sky. Rory stopped. She turned in a slow circle. Bright blue eyes scanned the perimeter. The shadows between the trunks looked solid, darker than the night itself. She rubbed the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist. The skin itched. A phantom pain shot up her arm. "I know you're watching." A branch snapped. The sound came from behind her left shoulder. She spun around. Nothing stood there but the gnarled root of an oak tree, twisted into the shape of a crouching man. The bark shifted. The knots in the wood resembled eyes. She pulled the pendant from under her jacket. The crimson gemstone caught the moonlight. A faint inner glow flickered within the depths of the crystal, then died. The silver chain felt heavy, dragging her head down. "Hel portal," she muttered. "Where is the door?" The wind picked up. It carried the scent of rotting sweet flowers. The smell intensified, coating the back of her throat. She tightened her grip on the stone. The silver chain dug into her fingers. Her knuckles turned white. Time felt slippery here. She checked her watch. The second hand ticked backward. She blinked. The hand moved forward again, then stalled. The face of the watch fogged over. "Right. Time moves differently." She forced her shoulders to relax. Panic clouded judgment. She needed clarity. She needed to find the source of the signal that drew the Heartstone here. She took a step forward. The flowers beneath her boot wilted instantly, turning to black sludge. She lifted her foot. The flowers remained dead. The sludge spread, creeping over the grass like oil. A whisper drifted through the clearing. It sounded like her name, but stretched out, distorted. "Rory..." She froze. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It vibrated in her teeth. "Show yourself." The shadows lengthened. They stretched toward her across the grass, defying the position of the moon. The darkness pooled around her ankles. Cold seeped through the soles of her boots. She looked down. The black sludge from the dead flowers crept toward her laces. It bubbled. She stepped back. The sludge followed. "This isn't right." The pendant vibrated against her chest. A low hum resonated through her ribs. The crimson glow intensified, casting bloody light onto the surrounding bark. The trees seemed to lean in. The bark shifted, resembling faces pressed against the wood from the inside. Mouths open. Eyes wide. Screaming silently. She backed away from the centre. Her heel caught on a root. She stumbled but caught her balance. The scar on her wrist burned. She looked down. The white line of the scar turned red, inflamed. Blood welled up beneath the skin. "Something's coming." The rustling started in the bushes surrounding the clearing. Not the wind. Something moved through the undergrowth. Heavy steps. Deliberate. They circled her. She turned to track the sound. Left. Right. Behind. The noise stopped when she faced it. The pendant grew hot. She hissed through her teeth but didn't let go. The glow pulsed now, rhythmic like a heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. The heat seared her palm. Skin blistered. The shadows detached from the trees. They stood upright, human-shaped but featureless. They didn't walk. They glided over the grass. No feet touched the ground. "I didn't agree to this." The figures stopped ten feet away. They faced her. No eyes, yet she felt their gaze. The air pressure dropped. Her ears popped. The wildflowers around the figures turned grey and crumbled to dust. The dust hung in the air, choking her. She reached into her pocket for her phone. The screen remained black. Dead. The battery icon showed full charge a moment ago. "Great." She slipped the phone back into her pocket. Her hand trembled. She clenched it into a fist to stop the shaking. The heat from the pendant spread up her neck. She could smell singed hair. Her own hair. One of the shadows raised an arm. It pointed at the ground beneath her feet. The gesture jerked, mechanical. "You want me to dig?" The shadow didn't move. The hum from the stone increased in pitch. It whined, sharp and painful. She covered her ears. The sound came from inside her head now. Drilling into her brain. She dropped to her knees. The dirt felt warm. Soft. She dug with her bare hands. The soil gave way easily, too easily, like rotting meat. Her fingernails broke. Dirt packed under them. Mud coated her wrists. "How deep?" The shadows stepped closer. The circle tightened. The crimson light from the pendant illuminated the patch of earth. Something white glinted in the dirt. Bone. A finger bone. She stopped digging. Her breath came in short gasps. The cold from the ground seeped into her knees. The scar on her wrist throbbed in time with the pendant. The blood on her wrist dripped onto the bone. "This is a grave." The shadows leaned in. The scent of ozone overwhelmed the smell of earth. The hair on her arms stood up. Static electricity crackled around her. Sparks jumped from her fingers to the dirt. She looked up. The figures loomed over her. The moonlight vanished behind clouds that hadn't been there a moment ago. Total darkness swallowed the Grove, save for the crimson glow of the stone around her neck. The light cast long, distorted shadows of her own making. The pendant jerked. It pulled toward the hole she dug. Hard. It felt like a fish on a line. "It's not a portal." The shadows reached for her. Their fingers passed through her jacket without touching the fabric. Cold fire raced across her skin. It burned without heat. She scrambled back, kicking dirt into the hole. The bone disappeared under the soil. The hum stopped. Silence returned. Heavier than before. The pressure in her ears equalized with a pop. She stood up. Her legs shook. She wiped her hands on her trousers. The dirt smeared, dark and wet. Blood mixed with the mud. "What do you want?" The shadows receded. They merged back into the trees. The wildflowers bloomed again, vibrant and fresh. The scent of rot vanished. The air smelled clean. Too clean. Sterile. She stood alone in the clearing. The pendant cooled against her skin. The glow faded to a dull ember. The silver chain felt light again. She waited. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The silence stretched. Seconds turned into minutes. Or hours. She couldn't tell. The watch face remained fogged. A twig snapped. Close. Right behind her. She held her breath. The air remained still. No wind. No movement. The flowers didn't sway. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Warm breath brushed against her ear. Moist. Human. "Found you." She spun around. Her fist flew up. The clearing stood empty. The oak stones watched in silence. The pendant remained cold. The moonlight returned, pale and weak. She looked down at her wrist. The scar bled. A single drop of red welled up and traced the crescent moon shape. The blood ran down her hand, dripping onto the wildflowers. Where it landed, the flowers died. She wiped it away. The blood smeared across her palm. It didn't come off. "Enough." She turned toward the boundary stones. The path back to Richmond Park looked further away than before. The distance stretched. The stones seemed to move away as she approached. She walked. The stones didn't get closer. The flowers whispered as she passed. Words she couldn't understand. Hisses and clicks. She stopped. The whispering stopped. She took another step. The whispering started again. Louder. Angrier. She ran. Her boots pounded the earth. The stones remained distant. The shadows lengthened again, reaching for her heels. They grabbed at her ankles. She kicked them off. The pendant burned. She grabbed it. The heat seared her palm. She didn't let go. The skin smoked. "Open." The air in front of her shimmered. Heat waves distorted the view of the stones. A crack appeared in the air. Grey light bled through the tear. The light looked like static. The shadows surged forward. They moved faster now. Blurs of darkness. She reached for the crack. Her fingers brushed the grey light. It felt like static. It tasted like copper. A hand grabbed her shoulder. Fingers dug into the muscle. Real. Solid. She screamed.