Run: 2026-05-22-01KS876R0SW9BNH7P1AK0Q2VAM

The ancient oak standing stones loomed against the midnight sky, their bark twisted into agonizing spirals. Rory ducked beneath the lowest branch and stepped across the boundary into the Grove. The air shifted. The distant rumble of London traffic and the faint hum of aircraft vanished, replaced by a pressurized vacuum. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, illuminating patches of wildflowers. Bluebells and foxgloves bloomed in thick clusters, their petals vibrant and wet with dew despite the winter chill. She pulled her mobile from her jacket pocket. The screen displayed zero bars. The battery indicator, full when she left her flat above Silas's bar, now showed a sliver of red. "Come on, Eva. You meant midnight." Rory tapped the glass. The digital clock read 00:01. She blinked. The digits scrambled and settled on 23:45. She looked up. The moon hung directly overhead, casting sharp shadows. A second later, the shadows stretched long across the grass, the moon dipping toward the horizon in a single, violent lurch. Time moved differently inside the Grove. The local legends spoke of minutes turning into days, but experiencing the temporal slip made her stomach tighten. She shoved the phone away and clicked on her torch. The white beam cut through the dark, sweeping over the carpet of flowers. "Eva?" Silence answered. Not the quiet of an empty park, but a heavy, deadened void. No owls called. No wind rustled the leaves. Rory adjusted her grip on the torch. Her left thumb brushed the small crescent-shaped scar on her wrist. A grounding habit. She walked deeper into the clearing, her boots sinking into the soft, damp earth. Eva had left a voicemail three hours ago. Frantic whispers, a demand to meet at the Richmond grove, then a dead line. Rory pressed play on the saved message, holding the phone to her ear. Eva's voice crackled through the speaker, breathless and high. "Rory, the stones. They are singing. Do not let the roots touch you. Just come to the grove." A wet tearing sound followed on the recording, then static. Rory stopped walking. The silence of the clearing pressed against her eardrums. A twig snapped behind her. Rory spun, bringing the torch up. The beam illuminated the trunk of a massive oak. The bark was scarred and weeping a thick, amber sap. Nothing moved in the shadows. "Very funny, Ev." The shadows between the roots remained still. She lowered the torch. The silver chain around her neck shifted. The Heartstone pendant rested against her collarbone. A faint warmth seeped from the deep crimson gemstone. She pinched the thumbnail-sized artifact. The heat pulsed in a steady rhythm. One beat. Two beats. The warmth indicated a Hel portal. Rory scanned the tree line. The folklore warned of thin veils between realms, but a portal meant something had already crossed over. A low scrape echoed from the left. Rory pivoted. The light caught a patch of crushed bluebells. The stems were flattened, oozing a dark, foul-smelling liquid. "Who is there?" The air grew frigid. The scent of rotting meat and ozone washed over her. The wildflowers at the edge of the clearing shivered, their petals curling inward. Rory stepped backward, keeping her back to the central standing stone. Her mind raced, calculating distances and exit routes. The boundary stones were twenty paces east. A soft hum vibrated through the soles of her boots. The ground felt spongy, yielding too much under her weight. "Eva, if this is a prank, I am leaving." A giggle drifted from the canopy above. The pitch was too high, grating against her teeth. It sounded like Eva, but stretched and distorted, like a tape playing at the wrong speed. Rory aimed the torch into the branches. The light failed to pierce the dense foliage. "Come down here." The pendant burned. Rory gasped and dropped the gem. It swung against her chest, emitting a faint inner glow that cast a bloody hue over her jacket. The heat seared her skin. A Hel portal was close. Too close. Something dropped from the trees. It landed ten feet away with a heavy, wet thud. Rory swept the light over the ground. A mass of tangled roots and dark soil shifted. It rose, unfolding into a vaguely humanoid shape. Mud and decaying leaves clung to its limbs. It lacked a face, presenting only a smooth expanse of pale, polished wood where features should be. She backed away. Her heel struck a stone. The creature tilted its head. The wood split open with a sound like tearing canvas, revealing a hollow cavity filled with glowing white spores. Eva's stolen voice echoed from the hollow chest. "Rory. You came." "Tell me where she is." Rory kept her voice level, her thumb rubbing her wrist scar. The creature took a step forward. The wildflowers beneath its feet withered, turning to black ash in seconds. The pendant flared, the crimson light illuminating the thick fog rolling off the creature's shoulders. "She is in the roots. She is in the dark." Rory tightened her grip on the torch. The beam flickered, the batteries draining in the unnatural cold. "Stay back." The entity raised an arm. The joints popped, elongating. The fingers stretched into sharp, wooden spikes that dripped with the same amber sap weeping from the trees. "We are all in the dark, Rory." The torch died, plunging the grove into complete blackness, save for the bloody pulse of the Heartstone against her chest. The spores in the creature's chest flared brighter. The white light cast long, twisting shadows across the grass. The entity lunged, its wooden spikes slicing through the air. Rory threw herself to the right. The spikes buried themselves into the ancient oak standing stone with a sharp crack. Splinters rained down on her shoulders. She scrambled to her feet, her boots slipping on the crushed, decaying flowers. The Heartstone swung wildly, its chain biting into the back of her neck. "You cannot run from the soil." The sound vibrated in Rory's teeth, a chorus of a dozen different pitches layering over Eva's stolen tone. It ripped its arm from the stone. The wood groaned. The entity turned its faceless head toward her, tracking the crimson glow of the pendant. Rory backed toward the eastern boundary. Ten paces. The air grew thicker, resisting her movements like deep water. The pendant seared her collarbone, the heat blistering her skin. She ignored the pain, keeping her eyes locked on the pale wooden silhouette. "Give her back." The creature dropped to all fours. Its limbs bent at impossible angles, joints snapping and reforming to accommodate the new posture. It scuttled forward, closing the distance in rapid, jerky movements. "She is part of the Grove now." Rory reached the edge of the clearing. The ancient oak boundary stones stood just a few feet away. The air shimmered between them, marking the threshold back to Richmond Park. The creature leaped.