diner, a large german shepherd was waiting for them when they came out. It wore the harness of a seeing eye dog.
“That’s it.” Jake finally snarled, climbing back into the cab of the truck. “Enough is enough.”
“What are you gonna do?” Asked Hank nervously, craning his neck to watch the shepherd disappear into the distance.
“I’m gonna end this.” Jake replied with a note of finality in his voice.
The sun was beginning to set by the time the pair returned to the shabby little house of the old woman. The yard was bare of dogs, but Jake & Hank both felt their skin crawl with the weight of invisible stares.
Scowling furiously, Jake parked the truck & marched to the door. Hank followed nervously behind his brother, looking around timidly. The door offered no resistance to Jake’s furious grip, and he threw it open. The house had been tidied up a little since the pair had trashed it, but not by much. In the middle of a mostly sparse room, Annabelle sat in a wooden rocking chair, the little white dog still cradled in her arms. She was speaking softly to the small animal & occasionally reaching up to stroke his small head, which lifted to stare at the men as they entered the house.
“So they came back, I see.” Annabelle crooned softly to the dog, continuing to rock back & forth slowly. “Maybe they came to apologize for hurting you, my baby.”
“Fuck you, you old witch!” Jake spat angrily. “We know what your doing & we’re here to tell you to cut it the fuck out! Stop sending you’re stupid mutts!”
“I guess you were right, my baby.” The old woman said, still gently petting the small dog curled in her lap. “You were right. I was hoping they could be redeemed, but I suppose not.”
“Now look, you stupid old hag-” Jake began, taking a step forward, but a long howl from just outside the door cut him off.
“I suppose there’s no choice.” Annabelle continued, rising to her feet & looking up at the men for the first time. One eye was half closed, the puffy flesh surrounding it deeply bruised. Several other blossoms of purple bruised flesh colored her face, but her eyes stared with a clear minded intensity. “You didn’t kill my baby, he just got a little bump on the head but he was ok. So I gave you a second chance. But I can see now that it was a mistake.” Another howl sounded from outside, swiftly joined by a chorus of others.
“My children have found you.”
Jake turned toward the open door, the old woman’s words ringing in his ears. Time seemed to slow to a crawl & he witnessed the last few moments of his life through the dream-like haze of terror-induced shock. Hank, who was farther back in the doorway, was pulled down first. A muzzle appeared at his ankle, biting down. Another grabbed on just below the knee. One of his hands disappeared into the mouth of a large husky. Jake could do nothing to stop his brother being dragged backwards, out of the open door, disappearing into the night. And then they came for him. A wall of fur and flesh and teeth. The last thing Jake saw as he felt himself dragged outside, sharp teeth already tearing at his flesh, was the old woman, standing in the center of the room, the little white dog held in her arms, and both of them staring.
“You hear about those boys that went missin?” a voice spoke from the darkness, a small ball of floating red appearing as he took a drag off his cigarette.
“You mean the pair that rented the old McDuffle place?” came a reply.
“Yeah.” Said the first voice. “Strangest thing. Truck was still in the driveway, and they had some packed suitcases in it. Rumor has it they had some motel room rented in the next county there, but ain’t no one seen no sign of em for a week now. McDuffle figures they were gonna skip out on the rent, but all their stuff’s still there.”
“Strange.” came a bored reply.
A shadow darted across the weak pool of light cast by the decrepit street lamp. “What was that?” asked the first voice, the red spot once again indicating a drag on the cigarette.
“That’s just the Dog Lady.” The second voice said dismissively. “Ignore her, she’s harmless.”
© Melody Hewson 2012
Author’s Note: This is my first attempt at writing a horror story. It’s inspired by but not based on reality. All characters, names, and occurrences are purely from my imagination, or used fictitiously. Any similarities to real persons, places, or things (besides myself) are purely by accident.
Your respect and support of the work of this author are greatly appreciated.
The Dog Lady Page 3
