Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7K42E961HWHZBN0W36PH8

The air in Richmond Park was thick with the scent of damp earth and something older, something that clung to the trees like a second skin. Aurora Carter adjusted the strap of her backpack, her fingers brushing the cold metal of the Heartstone pendant around her neck. The crimson gemstone pulsed faintly, warm against her skin, but it was the way the light slanted through the canopy that made her pause. The world outside the grove’s boundary was still, the lamplight from the city casting long, jagged shadows across the grass. Here, though, the shadows didn’t just stretch—they *breathed*. She exhaled slowly, her breath fogging the glass of her thermos. The standing stones loomed ahead, their gnarled roots twisting into the earth like skeletal fingers. The grove wasn’t supposed to exist. Not in this way. Not here. But then again, neither was she. A twig snapped. Aurora froze, her pulse hammering in her throat. The sound was too sharp, too deliberate. She turned slowly, her blue eyes scanning the darkness. Nothing. Just the usual rustle of wind through the leaves. But the wind here didn’t feel like wind. It felt like something *waiting*. She stepped forward, her boots sinking into the damp earth. The moment her boots touched the soil, the air around her thickened, pressing in like a second layer of skin. Her breath came faster, her chest tight. The Heartstone pulsed harder, its crimson glow dimming and brightening in time with her heartbeat. Then she saw it. A shape. A flicker of movement at the edge of her vision, just beyond the first row of trees. Not a person. Not a creature. Something *else*. Thin, elongated, its form shifting between solid and mist. It didn’t move toward her. It didn’t need to. It was already here. Aurora’s fingers tightened around the pendant. The warmth of the stone was a lie. It was the only thing keeping her sane. The only thing keeping her from seeing what was coming. The shape turned. It didn’t have eyes. Not in the way humans understood eyes. It had something else—a slit of a mouth, lined with teeth that weren’t teeth at all, but something sharper, more *hungry*. Its limbs were too long, too thin, the bones pressing through the translucent skin like ribs. It moved with a grace that made her stomach twist. Aurora stumbled back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The ground beneath her feet seemed to shift, the earth itself whispering secrets she didn’t want to hear. The standing stones loomed closer, their ancient faces twisting in the dark. They weren’t just markers. They were *watching*. The thing in the trees let out a sound—a wet, clicking noise, like bones snapping together. Aurora’s vision blurred. She clutched her head, her vision swimming. The world tilted. The air around her *moved*, pressing in from all sides, as if the grove itself was closing in. Then—light. A blinding flash, so bright it burned her eyes. The thing in the trees dissolved into smoke, vanishing in an instant. Aurora gasped, her lungs burning. When she looked down, her boots were wet. Not rain. Not dew. Something darker, something *wetter*. She stumbled forward, her legs unsteady. The standing stones were closer now, their gnarled roots twisting toward her like grasping hands. The air smelled of damp earth and something older, something that made her skin crawl. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cold stone of one of the markers. It was warm. Aurora’s breath hitched. The Heartstone pulsed again, its crimson glow flickering. She turned, her gaze fixed on the trees. The shape was gone. But the silence was wrong. Too quiet. Too *empty*. A sound. Not a sound. A *presence*. A whisper in the dark, like leaves rustling in a wind that didn’t exist. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest. She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the grove. Nothing. Just the usual sounds of nature, but they were wrong. Too many. Too loud. She reached for her backpack, her fingers brushing the pendant again. The warmth of the stone was a lie. It was the only thing keeping her from seeing what was coming. The standing stones moved. Not in the way they should. They didn’t shift. They didn’t tilt. They *woke*. Their ancient faces twisted in the dark, their hollows deepening, their edges sharpening. They were no longer markers. They were *eyes*. Aurora’s breath came in short, sharp gasps. She turned, her gaze fixed on the trees. The shape was back. Not the same shape. Something worse. Something that had been there all along, waiting. It moved toward her, its form shifting between solid and mist, its limbs too long, too thin. Its mouth was a slit, lined with teeth that weren’t teeth at all. It didn’t have eyes. But it didn’t need them. Aurora stumbled back, her legs unsteady. The air around her thickened, pressing in like a second layer of skin. The standing stones loomed closer, their ancient faces twisting in the dark. They were no longer markers. They were *warnings*. The thing in the trees let out a sound—a wet, clicking noise, like bones snapping together. Aurora’s vision blurred. She clutched her head, her vision swimming. The world tilted. The air around her *moved*, pressing in from all sides, as if the grove itself was closing in. Then—light. A blinding flash, so bright it burned her eyes. The thing in the trees dissolved into smoke, vanishing in an instant. Aurora gasped, her lungs burning. When she looked down, her boots were wet. Not rain. Not dew. Something darker, something *wetter*. She stumbled forward, her legs unsteady. The standing stones were closer now, their gnarled roots twisting toward her like grasping hands. The air smelled of damp earth and something older, something that made her skin crawl. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cold stone of one of the markers. It was warm. Aurora’s breath hitched. The Heartstone pulsed again, its crimson glow flickering. She turned, her gaze fixed on the trees. The shape was gone. But the silence was wrong. Too quiet. Too *empty*. A sound. Not a sound. A *presence*. A whisper in the dark, like leaves rustling in a wind that didn’t exist. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest. She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the grove. Nothing. Just the usual sounds of nature, but they were wrong. Too many. Too loud. She reached for her backpack, her fingers brushing the pendant again. The warmth of the stone was a lie. It was the only thing keeping her from seeing what was coming. The standing stones moved again. This time, they didn’t just shift. They *laughed*. A sound that echoed through the grove, deep and resonant, like bones grinding together. Aurora’s stomach twisted. She turned, her gaze fixed on the trees. The shape was back. Not the same shape. Something worse. Something that had been there all along, waiting. It moved toward her, its form shifting between solid and mist, its limbs too long, too thin. Its mouth was a slit, lined with teeth that weren’t teeth at all. It didn’t have eyes. But it didn’t need them. Aurora’s breath came in short, sharp gasps. The air around her thickened, pressing in like a second layer of skin. The standing stones loomed closer, their ancient faces twisting in the dark. They were no longer markers. They were *hungry*. She reached for the pendant, her fingers trembling. The Heartstone pulsed, its crimson glow brightening, warming her skin. She pressed it against her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The shape was closer now. It didn’t move toward her. It didn’t need to. It was already here. Aurora’s vision blurred. The world tilted. The air around her *moved*, pressing in from all sides, as if the grove itself was closing in. And then— The light. A blinding flash, so bright it burned her eyes. The shape dissolved into smoke, vanishing in an instant. Aurora gasped, her lungs burning. When she looked down, her boots were wet. Not rain. Not dew. Something darker, something *wetter*. She stumbled forward, her legs unsteady. The standing stones were closer now, their gnarled roots twisting toward her like grasping hands. The air smelled of damp earth and something older, something that made her skin crawl. Aurora’s fingers tightened around the pendant. The warmth of the stone was a lie. It was the only thing keeping her from seeing what was coming. She turned slowly, her gaze fixed on the trees. The shape was gone. But the silence was wrong. Too quiet. Too *empty*. And then— A sound. Not a sound. A *presence*. A whisper in the dark, like leaves rustling in a wind that didn’t exist. Aurora’s breath hitched. She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the grove. Nothing. Just the usual sounds of nature, but they were wrong. Too many. Too loud. She reached for her backpack, her fingers brushing the pendant again. The Heartstone pulsed, its crimson glow flickering. And then— The standing stones moved. They didn’t just shift. They *woke*. Their ancient faces twisted in the dark, their hollows deepening, their edges sharpening. They were no longer markers. They were *eyes*. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest. She turned, her gaze fixed on the trees. The shape was back. And it was waiting.