AI “Damn it, Rory, why did you have to pick *this * place?”
The words hung in the damp air, echoing slightly off the ancient stones. Eva's voice, tight with barely suppressed panic, cut through the hushed stillness of Richmond Park. I ignored her, my gaze fixed on the clearing ahead. The Fae Grove. It shimmered, even in the gloom , a pocket of impossible vibrancy nestled within the otherwise ordinary expanse of the park. Wildflowers bloomed in riotous color, despite the approaching autumn.
“It’s Isolde’s grove, Eva. It’s the only place I could find that even *might *… resonate.” My voice felt thin, strained . A necessity, considering the impending task.
Eva hadn’t followed, still standing near the boundary marked by the oak standing stones, her hands gripping her arms as if warding off a chill . A foolish gesture. The cold here wasn’t atmospheric. It seeped from somewhere deeper.
I stepped across the threshold, and the air thickened, heavy with the scent of something floral and unfamiliar, overlaid with a metallic tang that pricked at the back of my throat. The sounds of the city – the distant drone of traffic, the muffled throb of music – vanished, replaced by a silence so profound it felt like a physical pressure .
“Rory,” Eva’s voice was a ragged whisper now. “I really don’t like this . I have a very bad feeling.”
“Just stay there, okay? Until I’m done. Keep watch.” No sense in both of us spooking ourselves.
I moved deeper into the Grove, my hand instinctively tracing the silver chain of the Heartstone pendant beneath my collar. It pulsed faintly against my skin, a reassuring warmth in the growing unease. A relic, given to me by a man I’d never seen, a man who’d spoken of Hel portals and necessary sacrifices.
The moonlight, filtered through the dense canopy of leaves, cast long, distorted shadows that danced at the edges of my vision. It played tricks on the eyes, turning the gnarled roots of ancient trees into grotesque figures. I focused on the centre of the clearing, where a single, towering ash tree stood, its bark etched with symbols I couldn’t quite decipher .
The map – a ludicrously detailed charcoal sketch on aged parchment – indicated the focal point was beneath this tree. That's where the anomaly lay. That’s where I needed to find it.
I circled the ash, my fingers brushing against the rough bark, searching for a sign, a marker, anything. The air grew colder, the metallic tang stronger. My breath plumed white in the stillness.
A twig snapped.
I froze, every muscle tense, my gaze sweeping the shadows. The sound was small, insignificant, but it sliced through the silence like a shard of glass.
“Eva?” I called out, my voice barely a whisper .
No response.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I moved cautiously, my boots sinking slightly into the mossy ground. “Eva, this isn’t funny.”
Another snap. Closer this time.
I whirled around, scanning the perimeter of the clearing. Nothing. Just the trees, the shadows, the vibrant, unnerving flowers. But the feeling of being watched intensified, a weight on my skin, a prickling at the back of my neck.
I fished my phone from my pocket, flicked it open. No signal, of course. Typical.
“Eva, answer me!” I shouted, my voice cracking with growing anxiety.
Then, a new sound. A low, rhythmic hum, barely audible at first, but steadily growing in intensity . It vibrated through the ground, through my bones. A discordant drone that seemed to warp the very air around me .
The flowers began to sway, despite the absence of wind. Their colours deepened, becoming almost unnaturally bright. And then, I saw it.
A movement at the edge of my vision. A flicker of something dark, something shifting amongst the shadows beneath the trees. I strained my eyes, trying to focus, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
I took a step forward, then another, my hand tightening around the Heartstone pendant. The pulsing warmth intensified, radiating outwards, a tangible response to whatever was happening here.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice shaky. “Is someone there?”
The humming intensified, morphing into a chorus of whispers, too faint to understand, yet undeniably present, swirling around me like a suffocating fog.
I spun around, searching frantically for the source of the voices. They seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Another twig snapped. This time, directly behind me.
I whirled around again, but there was nothing there. Just the ash tree, its bark shimmering unnaturally in the moonlight.
Then, a different sound. A soft, sighing sound, like a breath ghosting across my ear.
I shuddered, goosebumps erupting on my arms.
“Eva!” I shouted again, louder this time, panic clawing at my throat.
This time, I heard a reply. A faint, distorted voice, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
“Rory…”
It wasn't Eva's.
The voice was layered , echoing , as if emanating from multiple sources simultaneously . A mask of familiar vocals.
“Rory… come play with us.”
I froze, my blood turning to ice.
The shadows beneath the trees deepened, coalescing into vague, shifting shapes. They seemed to be… *reaching * towards me.
I stumbled backwards, my hand fumbling for the Heartstone pendant. It pulsed violently now, radiating heat, almost burning my skin.
The whispers intensified, swirling around me, coalescing into a single, unified voice.
“Rory… you’re one of us now.”
I caught another movement. This time, it was clearer. A figure, standing amongst the trees, partially obscured by the shadows. But I could still see enough to make out the shape. Tall, gaunt, with limbs that seemed too long, too spindly.
Its face was hidden in darkness, but I could feel its gaze on me, cold and predatory.
And then, I saw something else. Something that made my stomach plunge to my feet.
A flash of silver. Glinting in the moonlight. A familiar , silver chain.
Eva’s chain.
My eyes darted around wildly, frantic. I noticed the vibrant wildflowers had turned black. It was subtle at first, a dark stain creeping across the petals, but now they were completely devoid of color save for the inky black blooms, humming with a low, guttural frequency.
I took a quick step back, down towards a tangle of roots, only to stumble because of an unseen rise of soil. I regained my balance and with a glance down noticed an intricate pattern embedded into the earth. It was some sort of sigil.
The figure began to move, gliding silently through the trees towards me. Its arms extended, its long, skeletal fingers reaching out.
I didn't need to think, hadn't thought since I stepped into the Grove. Instinct took over. I turned and ran, blindly crashing through the undergrowth, ignoring the stinging branches and the snapping twigs.
I risked a glance back. The figure was closer now, its form more distinct. And it was no longer alone.
Dozens of figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding the clearing, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light.
They were all wearing silver chains.