January 1, 1986.
It came in the dead of night, a rhythmic creaking sound that only the children could hear. Jackie and Johnny tried not to listen but it called to them, whispering of evil, luring them into the darkness of the attic.
With its brightly colored saddle and painted-on eyes it was the most beautiful rockinghorse they had ever seen. But as they took turns riding it, they didn’t see its tail twitch or its lips curve into a terrifying grin. They couldn’t hear the faint whimper that echoed among the shadows. They couldn’t know that their own innocent eyes had taken on a strange new gleam.