GRACE POV
The thing pulled itself the rest of the way out of the crack in the ground, and for a moment I couldn’t tell if it was forming or unraveling. Its body shimmered like mist trapped inside a beam of moonlight, limbs too long, torso too thin, edges bleeding into the air around it. Its head lifted without any real movement, like gravity wasn’t interested in participating.
Sarah’s breath hitched beside me. “we're f****d,” she whispered.
Right. Great. Wonderful. Because what I really needed after a worm the size of a bus was a glowing nightmare spirit that looked like a migraine given physical shape.
Timothy clung to my sleeve. “No. No no no—no. That is not what they look like in the texts. Will-o’-the-wisps are supposed to be tiny floating lights. Little glowy blobs. Little friend
