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The thing froze. It gaped at me with a slack mouth and wide eyes.

A silent gurgle cut through the silence and I watched as those stunning eyes opened.

“Owain,” I called and he looked toward me for a split second before snapping back toward the mare. His hand reached up weakly. “Don’t move. I’ll save you, just don’t…”

His fingers ran over the thing’s side. Gently. Almost like a pet. What the fuck was he doing?

“Owain, this isn’t a game.” I froze as the words left my mouth.

A game.

A mare.

Fuck. It couldn’t be.

It was a stupid fucking children’s game Noel’s grandma had told us about. We used to mess around with it on sleepovers when we were teenagers when Bloody Mary got old and we were trying to impress potential love interests.

“Get Barth,” I said as I dove for the slippers Owain had left beside the bed. I flipped them over so their soles faced the ceiling, feeling like a fucking idiot when nothing happened to the mare.

But the full name thing woke him up. That part worked.

So some of the other shit… Maybe…

Barth popped his head through a wall, teeth chattering in fear as he stared at the mare.

“Do you have an iron horseshoe?” I asked, and they all looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

“I might,” Barth said.

“Go find it. NOW!” I turned. “Bronwyn, get me a sieve. The biggest you can find.”

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked, and I ran my hand over my head.

“I have no fucking idea.” I caught Owain’s eyes and he blinked at me, still barely breathing. Still trying to convince me he wasn’t in pain. Suffocating. Dying right in front of me.

His fingers still carded over the mare’s side and the thing seemed intent on doing the same, because it wove stubby fingers into Owain’s hair and started twisting the strands into weird locks that stuck out from his head like spears.

A horseshoe flew through the doorway and clattered against the floor near my shoe, Barth nowhere in sight. I picked it up and dove under the bed, placing it directly underneath Owain, hoping against hope it would drive the mare away like it did in the game.

I pulled myself out and looked up, only to find the exact same scene waiting for me when I stood.

The mare was still there.

Owain was still blue and sweaty and barely breathing.

I was still lost and useless.

Bronwyn phased back in, a sieve with the tiniest holes clutched in her hand.

“Only one I could find.” She handed it to me and I lifted it above my head so everyone could see it despite the darkness.

“What are you doing with it?” Andrew asked, and I had to shake my head like a moron.

“Taking cues from teenage fuckboy me,” I said vaguely, standing with the sieve brandished like a sword.

I prepared myself for nothing to happen again, but the moment a stray ray of moonlight caught the metal of the sieve the mare snapped its head towards it. Those beady eyes glowed and its entire body tensed on Owain’s chest.

I froze for a second because I didn’t think it would work. I didn’t think I had any chance of getting this thing away from Owain but…I gave the sieve a little wave. The mare followed the movement like it was hypnotised. It’s round head swayed back and forth in the same slow rhythm I moved the sieve. I snatched it out of the air and put it behind my back. The mare growled, frustrated and agitated. It looked around with quick, almost panicked turns of the head, letting out a low whine when it couldn’t see where it went. But then it must have realised I still had it, because its eyes focused on me. Dark and menacing. Evil. They looked so fucking evil.