AI The moon hung low over Richmond Park, casting long shadows through the ancient oaks. Aurora clutched the delivery bag tighter against her chest, its contents still warm despite the late hour. The restaurant had sent her to an address deep within the park, a place marked only by coordinates that made the dispatcher's voice tighten with unusual concern.
"Richmond Grove," he'd said. "Drop it at the standing stones. Don't go in. Just leave it."
Aurora had nodded, though the request made no sense. Golden Empress rarely delivered to locations off-road, let alone to parklands after curfew. Still, she needed the extra hours, needed the distraction from the memories that still surfaced when the city grew quiet.
The path to the grove twisted through unfamiliar territory, moonlight filtering through the canopy in fractured patterns. Her boots crunched on fallen leaves, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. She checked her watch —eleven forty-seven. Plenty of time before midnight, when park regulations strictly prohibited entry.
When she reached the clearing, the standing stones rose like silent sentinels , their surfaces slick with moisture despite the dry weather. They formed a rough circle, taller than a man, with ancient symbols carved into their weathered faces that seemed to shift when Aurora wasn't looking directly at them .
The instructions had been clear: leave the bag at the stones. But as she approached, something pulled her forward, a curiosity that felt less like choice and more like compulsion. The air grew thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, though Aurora knew no such flowers grew in London in November.
She set the bag down between two stones, her fingers brushing against the pendant around her neck. The Heartstone—normally just a warm weight against her skin—grew cool, then warm again in rapid pulses. She'd noticed it behaving strangely all evening, growing warmer whenever she passed certain alleyways or stood near specific buildings.
As she turned to leave, a sound made her freeze. A child's laughter, high and clear, echoed through the trees. Aurora spun around, searching the darkness, but saw only shadows dancing in the moonlight.
"Hello?" she called, her voice sounding thin and distant. The laughter came again, this time closer, followed by the whisper of bare feet on leaves.
Aurora's breath hitched. The park was deserted this late. Everyone knew that. She took a step back, her heel catching on an exposed root. She stumbled, catching herself against one of the standing stones. The surface was unnaturally warm, almost alive beneath her palm.
When she looked up, the symbols on the stone seemed to pulse with a faint inner light, matching the rhythm of the pendant against her chest. She pulled away, her fingers instinctively going to the scar on her wrist—a crescent-shaped mark from a childhood fall that suddenly felt raw and new.
The laughter came again, closer this time, accompanied by the sound of a skipping rope hitting the ground in steady rhythm. Aurora's eyes darted around the clearing, but she saw nothing. The wildflowers that supposedly bloomed year-round seemed to writhe in the moonlight, their petals twisting into unnatural shapes.
Aurora backed away from the stones, her heart pounding against her ribs. She needed to leave, needed to put distance between herself and this place that felt increasingly wrong. But as she turned, the path she'd walked minutes ago had disappeared. In its place stood trees she'd never seen before, their bark twisted into faces that watched her with blank, eyeless sockets.
"Hello?" she called again, her voice trembling. "Is someone there?"
The skipping stopped. The silence that followed was heavier than any noise could have been, pressing down on Aurora's chest until it became difficult to breathe. She could feel eyes on her, not just from the trees, but from the very air itself .
Then, a voice whispered from the darkness, soft and familiar . "Rory?"
Aurora froze. That was Eva's voice. Her childhood friend who'd convinced her to leave Cardiff, who'd helped her escape Evan. But Eva was miles away, in her flat across town.
"Eva?" Aurora called, taking a hesitant step forward. "Is that you?"
The voice chuckled, but it wasn't Eva's laugh. It was too sharp, too cold. "You shouldn't have come here, Rory. The grove doesn't like visitors."
The pendant around Aurora's neck grew warm again, burning against her skin. She reached for it, her fingers closing around the cool metal of the chain. The gemstone pulsed with a faint crimson light, illuminating the trees around her in an unnatural glow.
From the corner of her eye, Aurora saw movement—a figure stepping from behind one of the standing stones. It had the shape of a woman, but its limbs were too long, its head too large. Its face remained in shadow as it raised a hand toward her.
Aurora stumbled backward, her heel catching on another root. She fell hard, the bag of food spilling open beside her. The containers clattered against the stones, their contents spilling onto the mossy ground.
The figure advanced, its steps silent despite its size. Aurora scrambled backward, crawling on her hands and feet, her eyes locked on the thing that moved toward her. As it drew closer, she could see that its face wasn't in shadow—it was featureless, smooth and pale as porcelain , with only faint lines where eyes and mouth should have been.
The pendant burned against her chest, its glow intensifying. The creature paused, its smooth head tilting as if studying her . Then, it smiled—a wide, unnatural stretching of featureless skin that revealed nothing but darkness within.
"Why did you bring it?" the creature whispered, its voice a dry rasp that sounded like leaves scraping against stone . "Why did you bring the offering?"
Aurora shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The creature advanced another step, its shadow stretching across the clearing. "The food. The warmth . You brought it to the grove."
"The delivery," Aurora stammered. "I was just making a delivery."
The creature's smile widened. "No one delivers to the grove. Especially not on the night of the blood moon."
Aurora looked up at the sky. The moon hung full and heavy, its light staining everything crimson. She hadn't noticed before, but now she saw—every leaf, every stone, every blade of grass was bathed in the same bloody light.
The pendant pulsed against her chest, growing warmer with each beat. As she watched, the creature's featureless face began to shift, its smooth skin stretching and reforming into something that made bile rise in Aurora's throat.
The trees around her seemed to lean closer, their branches reaching toward her like skeletal fingers. The wildflowers at her feet began to sway in time to a rhythm only they could hear, their petals opening and closing like hungry mouths.
Aurora pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling. She needed to run, needed to get away from this place that defied all logic. But every direction looked the same—trees standing sentinel , their faces watching her with silent judgment.
The creature took another step, its movements fluid and unnatural. The pendant burned against her skin, its crimson glow intensifying until it cast the entire clearing in bloody light.
"Why do you wear it?" the creature asked, its voice now a chorus of whispers that seemed to come from all directions at once . "Why do you carry the heartstone?"
Aurora's fingers tightened around the pendant, its metal warm against her skin. "I don't know what it is."
The creature's smile widened. "Liar. You know what it is. You know what it does."
Aurora looked down at the pendant, then back at the creature. The blood moon illuminated the clearing, casting long shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own . The wildflowers swayed, the trees watched, and the creature stood before her, its face shifting between forms too fast for her eyes to follow.
The pendant pulsed against her chest, growing warmer with each beat. As it did, the creature recoiled, its smooth face contorting in what might have been pain or surprise.
"What is that?" the creature hissed, taking a step back.
Aurora looked down at the pendant, then back at the creature. The blood moon illuminated the clearing, casting long shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own . The wildflowers swayed, the trees watched, and the creature stood before her, its face shifting between forms too fast for her eyes to follow.
"I don't know," Aurora whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was speaking to the creature or herself. "I don't know what's happening."
The creature's smile returned, wider than before. "But you will," it whispered. "You will learn soon enough."
The pendant pulsed again, its crimson glow flaring so bright that Aurora had to shield her eyes. When she lowered her hand, the creature was gone . The clearing stood silent, the trees watching with blank faces, the wildflowers swaying in a nonexistent breeze.
Aurora stood frozen, her hand clutched around the pendant that burned against her skin. The delivery bag lay spilled at her feet, its contents ruined. The standing stones stood silent, their symbols pulsing with faint light.
From the trees, a child's laughter echoed through the clearing. High and clear, it sent chills down Aurora's spine. She turned toward the sound, her eyes searching the darkness, but saw nothing but shadows and trees that seemed closer than before .
The pendant pulsed against her chest, growing warmer with each beat. As it did, the wildflowers at her feet began to glow with the same crimson light, their petals opening like hungry mouths.
Aurora took a step back, her heel catching on the spilled food. She stumbled, catching herself against one of the standing stones. The surface was warm beneath her palm, the symbols pulsing in time with the pendant against her chest.
From the edge of the clearing, a figure emerged. It had the shape of a woman, but its limbs were too long, its head too large. Its face remained in shadow as it raised a hand toward her.