Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8RP8BXGFZ3BHE0B833XVN

The air in Richmond Park was thick with the scent of damp earth and something older, something like rotting honey, when Aurora stepped through the standing stones of The Fae Grove. The ancient oaks loomed around her, their gnarled branches casting jagged shadows that didn’t quite match the moonlight. She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing the cool silver chain of the Heartstone pendant around her neck. The gemstone pulsed faintly, warm against her skin, but it was the silence that made her pause. No birds. No rustling leaves. Just the occasional whisper of wind through the branches, but it wasn’t wind at all—it was something deeper, something that slithered through the trees like breath. She adjusted her grip on the pendant, her pulse quickening. The grove was supposed to be a place of transition, a threshold between worlds, but the moment she stepped inside, the air felt wrong. Too still. Too *alive*. Aurora had come here for a reason—Eva had told her to, had whispered about the grove in the dead of night, her voice trembling. *Find it before it finds you.* But now, standing here alone, she wondered if she’d been the one to come to the wrong place. The standing stones hummed faintly beneath her boots, a low vibration that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slowly, scanning the darkness. The trees stretched endlessly, their trunks black as coal, their leaves a shifting mosaic of shadows. Nothing moved. No animals. No people. Just the grove, breathing. She took a step forward, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. The ground beneath her felt different here—warmer, almost liquid in places. She froze. Then she heard it. A sound like a breath, caught just before it escaped. Not from the trees. From *inside* the trees. The whisper of something shifting, something that wasn’t there before. Her breath hitched. The Heartstone pulsed harder against her skin, its crimson glow dimming and brightening in unison. Aurora’s fingers tightened around the pendant. She had seen warnings before—Eva’s nightmares, the way her mother’s voice had cracked when she spoke of the grove. *Don’t go in alone.* But she had come alone. And now, as the silence stretched, as the trees seemed to lean in closer, she realized she wasn’t the only one who had come here tonight. A shape moved at the edge of her vision. Not a shadow. Not quite. A flicker of movement, just beyond the first row of oaks, where the light from the moon barely reached. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She turned slowly, her pulse roaring in her ears. There. A figure stood there, half-hidden in the darkness, its form too still, too *wrong*. The air around it shimmered, like heat off pavement, but it wasn’t heat. It was something older, something that coiled around her bones, making her skin crawl. The pendant’s glow flickered violently, its crimson light casting jagged shadows across the ground. Aurora’s breath came in shallow gasps. She had to move. She had to get out. But the trees seemed to press in around her, their branches twisting like fingers, reaching. She took a step forward, her boots crunching on something brittle beneath the earth. The ground shifted beneath her, and she stumbled, her hand flying to her side. The pendant burned against her wrist, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold that seeped into her bones. She didn’t know what she was seeing. What she was *fearing*. But she knew, with a certainty that settled in her stomach like a stone, that she wasn’t alone. The figure stepped into the light. It was tall, too tall, its silhouette stretching unnaturally long against the sky. Its form was wrong—too many limbs, too many angles, like a thing that had been unraveling and then reassembled. Its face was hidden, but Aurora could feel its gaze on her, heavy and hungry, like a predator that had just caught the scent of prey. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. But the trees held her, their roots twisting around her ankles, their whispers slithering into her ears. The pendant pulsed again, its glow dimming as if in warning. Aurora’s mind raced. She had to think. She had to *move*. She reached for her bag, her fingers brushing the cold metal of her phone. The screen was dark, but she could see the time—midnight, just as it had been when she left London. But the grove didn’t work like that. Time here was different. She had been here for hours. Days. She took a deep breath, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her throat. “Who are you?” The figure didn’t answer. It didn’t need to. Aurora could feel its presence in the air, in the way the trees leaned in, in the way the ground trembled beneath her feet. She had to get out. She had to *go*. She turned and ran. The trees parted before her, their branches arching like a welcome—or a trap. She didn’t look back. She didn’t stop until she was back in the clearing, her breath ragged, her hands shaking. The standing stones loomed before her, their ancient faces carved with symbols she didn’t recognize. She pressed her palm against one, the stone cool beneath her skin. The pendant pulsed again, its glow brightening, casting her shadow in jagged lines against the ground. She didn’t know what had happened here. She didn’t know what she’d found. But she knew, with a certainty that settled in her bones, that she wasn’t alone. And she wasn’t leaving. Not yet.