Dogs III


The dogs called me over.

I was on my way to Boston to hunt for books, and the farm was in good hands for the day.

As it was, my mood was fine, and I suspect the dogs sensed that and took their chance as I passed by their home.

“Stranger,” the larger of the dogs whimpered.

The tone caught my ear, and I paused in my journey. I could sense the relief in the dog’s voice when next he spoke.

“Will you help us?” he asked. “You seem as though you might.”

I was about to answer when a pair of women exited the building. Neither of them looked especially pleased at my presence. The older of the two sat down between the dogs while the younger lingered in the doorway.

“Are you hungry?” the young woman asked, a playful smile appearing on her face. I believe it was meant to be seductive, but it failed by a long shot.

“No, but I thank you,” I replied.

“But you must be thirsty,” the young woman pressed, and I saw her older companion begin to work a knife out of her dress. “Come in and have some coffee.”

“No,” I stated. “I wouldn’t mind taking your dogs off your hands, though.”

The women paused, surprise flashing across their faces.

The younger woman cleared her throat. “They’ve too much work to do for us.”

“Shame,” I remarked. “You’ll have to find someone else to do it or do it yourselves. They’re coming with me.”

“The hell they are!” the older woman snapped and got to her feet, a long carving knife in her hand. “We need fresh meat, and you’re it. Inside, now, or the dogs will run you down.”

I unbuttoned my coat and drew my Colts in one long, easy motion. The barrels cleared leather, and the hammers cocked before the shock of it settled onto the women’s faces.

The older woman raised her knife up, and the Colts roared in the morning air.

A slug caught the younger woman high in the chin and blew the top of her head off. The second round punched into the older woman’s chest, driving through her heart and sending her tumbling to the earth.

I reloaded the Colts and looked at the dogs.

“I’m book hunting Boston. Care to come?”

The dogs let out howls of joy, and we set off.

It was a fine day for a walk.

#dogs #horrorstories

Published by

Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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