Tears sting my eyes. “That’s not my fault!” There’s a giant shadow floating over their bodies now. I look up — there’s a massive skylight in the ceiling I didn’t notice before, and a giant shape is hurling toward it. The bride grabs me by the arm and pulls me out of the way just in time for the glass panes to break and shatter over the crowd. The dancers get up from the floor in a screaming frenzy, but they are caught in the rain of shards. I slam into a table and fall to the floor. My instincts kick in and I dash under the table to avoid the glass and the impending rush of feet I now hear all around me.

Something gigantic and heavy lands on the floor with a crash. I lift the tablecloth, just to peek. Within that inch of space, I can see everything happening in the room. The floral centrepieces on the tables explode into dancing flames that streak through the air, singeing decorations and the guests’ clothes and hair as they swoop down on them. The wedding cake also explodes; fireballs pop out of it like they’d been hiding inside and waiting to make their appearance. The music is eaten up by the sounds of high-pitched cackling laughter. In the middle of the dance floor, the dark, giant shape takes form.

It’s a boar. A giant boar with blood on its tusks and flaming, neon green eyes. It rises to stand on its hind hooves. “GET ME THE DREAM EATER.”

In front of my table, two women run right smack into each other. Like cats fighting, they claw at each other, grabbing and ripping off one another’s faces, exposing torn flesh and veins. They point and laugh at each other.

“No, you are not the yokai we are looking for! Oops!”

“Let’s look for her together!” Arm in arm, they attack another guest, ripping off the man’s face, laughing again. Another rebuff, they laugh and the three go off in search of another face, and another. A gruesome game of Zombie Tag.

I duck back under the table. The tablecloth moves, exposing me, but somehow no one spots me underneath and comes to collect my face. I feel like I’m in full view of the demonic creatures running around, but for whatever reason they don’t see me. Perhaps they are too engrossed in catching the people running for their lives to look down here. I can see the bride — my sister? She looks so familiar now — and her new husband hiding under another table nearby. She turns and sees me. The bride scurries past the thundering feet to my table and pulls the tablecloth down behind her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I … it’s your wedding,” I reply. I can hear the tears in my own voice.

“No, it isn’t! Cybelle, you’ve turned this into a nightmare!”