Farmer Finds Missing Horse After 8 Months—When He Gets Closer, A Chill Runs Down His Spine
Then came the morning, months later, when he finally said the words aloud: “He’s not coming back.”
It had felt like closing a door forever.
And now—here Thunder was.
George stepped closer, breath clouding in the cool air. But the shadow beyond Thunder shifted again, edging toward the barn.
Thunder didn’t flinch. But George felt the weight of something else—something unseen—pressing in.
He stopped a few feet from his stallion, crouching low to see beneath the beam of the barn.
A pair of eyes glinted back at him, low to the ground, unwavering.
His pulse spiked. The air felt thicker, heavier. He rose slowly, taking a step back. Joy and fear tangled in his chest, pulling him in opposite directions.
He couldn’t leave Thunder out here—not after everything.
“Easy now, boy,” George murmured, eyes locked on the shape in the dark. He didn’t know if he was speaking to the horse… or whatever was watching them.
The eyes didn’t blink.
A chill crawled up his spine. He had pictured this moment a thousand times—Thunder galloping home under the golden sun, nuzzling his shoulder in greeting.
But this?
This was not how it was supposed to be.
Thunder flicked his tail, calm and unbothered, his gaze reflecting the last light of the day.
George’s throat tightened. His stallion should have been restless, wary after months away. But he wasn’t. Not even a little.
George’s eyes darted to the shadow behind Thunder. His grip on the rake tightened, the cold steel biting into his palm. The figure stayed low, unmoving, just beyond the edge of the light.
“What in the world are you?” he muttered under his breath.
