Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYBB7476DNQVHDR4S3436K7

The air in Richmond Park was thick with the scent of damp earth and something older—something like wet moss and iron. Aurora Carter adjusted the strap of her messenger bag, her fingers brushing the smooth silver chain of the Heartstone pendant beneath her shirt. The gemstone pulsed faintly, a warmth against her skin, though she hadn’t felt it before leaving the flat above Silas’s bar. She told herself it was just the cold seeping into her bones, the way it always did when she walked too far from the city’s glow. The standing stones loomed ahead, their gnarled oaks casting long, skeletal shadows across the path. She’d come here because the pendant had led her. Not in words, not in whispers, but in a quiet insistence, like a muscle memory she hadn’t known she carried. The Grove. That’s what the benefactor had called it—though she’d never said *where* it was. Just that it would know her when she was ready. Aurora exhaled through her nose, watching her breath curl in the frigid night. The park was empty. Too empty. Tourists didn’t linger this deep after dark, not even in summer. The path beneath her boots was uneven, the gravel crunching underfoot like bones snapping. She should turn back. She *should*. But the pendant burned a little brighter, just for a second, and her pulse jumped. She stepped between the stones. The world *shifted*. Not like a door opening, not like a veil lifting—more like the air itself had been stretched thin, then pulled taut. The trees around her didn’t just lean closer; they *leaned in*, their branches twisting into shapes that made her stomach clench. The wildflowers that should have been dormant in winter bloomed in thick, unnatural clusters, their petals glistening with dew that wasn’t there a moment before. The scent of them was too sweet, too *wrong*, like honey laced with something sour. Aurora’s breath hitched. She forced herself to move forward, one deliberate step at a time. The pendant’s warmth had turned to heat now, pressing against her ribs. She could feel it vibrating, though her fingers didn’t tremble. Then she heard it. A sound like fabric dragging across stone. She froze. The rustling came from the undergrowth to her left, just beyond the dappled light of the standing stones. Aurora’s muscles locked. She didn’t dare turn her head, didn’t dare *breathe*. The sound stopped. The silence that followed was worse—thicker, like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She turned slowly. Nothing. Just the trees. Just the flowers. Just the way the wind—if it was wind—whispered through the leaves in a way that made her skin prickle. Aurora swallowed. “Hello?” Her voice came out too loud, too sharp. She cleared her throat. “Is someone there?” No answer. She took another step. The pendant pulsed again, harder this time, and she flinched. The heat was radiating now, pressing against her collarbone. She could feel it seeping into her skin, warm as a brand. Then the flowers *moved*. Not the wind. Not the branches. The flowers themselves—petals trembling, stems bending in unison, as if something beneath the earth had stirred. Aurora stumbled back, her heel catching on a root. She barely caught herself, her fingers scrabbling for purchase in the damp soil. The pendant *burned*. She yanked it free from beneath her shirt, holding it out between them like an offering. The gemstone glowed now, a deep crimson that cast eerie reflections in her eyes. The heat was unbearable, like holding a live coal. She dropped it to the ground, watching as it rolled toward the standing stones. The moment it touched the bark, the world *screamed*. Not with sound—with a soundless wail that vibrated in her bones, that made her teeth ache. The trees *screamed*, their bark splitting along the seams, sap weeping like tears. The flowers withered in an instant, their petals curling black at the edges. The air turned to ice, then to fire, then back to ice again, her lungs burning with every breath. Aurora fell to her knees, her hands pressed to her mouth to stifle the sound rising in her throat. The pendant lay at her feet, now dark, lifeless. The glow was gone. The heat was gone. And then— A *step*. She didn’t turn. She couldn’t. The sound came again, closer this time. Slow. Deliberate. Like something was walking *through* the earth, not around it. Aurora’s vision blurred. She could see the standing stones now, not as trees, but as *teeth*. Jagged. Hungry. The roots beneath her fingers wriggled like serpents. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t—” The ground *shifted*. Not beneath her. Beside her. To her left. Aurora’s head snapped around. Something was there. Tall. Too tall. Its limbs moved in ways that made her stomach lurch. Its skin was the color of old parchment, stretched too tight over bones that didn’t look human. Its mouth— Aurora screamed. The thing *smiled*. Its teeth were too many. Too sharp. Its lips peeled back, revealing rows of them, glistening in the dim light of the Grove. The scent hit her then—rot and something sweet, like decaying fruit left too long in the sun. She scrambled backward, her heels digging into the earth. The thing took a step forward, its boots—if they were boots—sinking into the soil as if it were water. The standing stones groaned, their roots twisting like fingers reaching for her. Aurora’s breath came in ragged gasps. She had to get out. She had to *run*. But the pendant was gone. She turned in a slow circle, her pulse hammering in her ears. The thing was still there, watching. Waiting. Then she saw it. A glint of silver in the undergrowth. The pendant. Still warm, still pulsing faintly. Aurora lunged for it, her fingers closing around the chain. The moment she touched it, the world *shuddered*. The thing recoiled, its smile twisting into something more like a snarl. The standing stones trembled, their bark splitting further, sap dripping like blood. Aurora didn’t wait. She ran. The Grove was no longer a clearing. It was a maze of twisting roots and towering trees, the air thick with the scent of iron and something older, something *hungry*. The thing followed, its footsteps echoing through the night, closer with every step. Aurora’s lungs burned. Her legs trembled. She could feel it behind her, breathing in time with her own ragged inhales. Then—light. A break in the trees. The faint glow of a streetlamp, the distant hum of the city. She was almost there. Almost— A hand clamped over her mouth. Aurora thrashed, her body going rigid. The pendant burned against her ribs, the heat searing through her shirt. She bit down on the hand, tasting salt and something metallic. “Shh,” a voice hissed in her ear. “It’s me.” Aurora froze. The voice was familiar. Too familiar. She turned her head slowly. Eva stood there, her dark hair wild, her eyes wide with something between terror and relief. Behind her, the Grove *wrenched*, the trees twisting back into place as if the world had been stretched too thin and was now snapping shut. Eva’s grip tightened. “Run,” she whispered. “Now.” Aurora didn’t need to be told twice.