Dogs V

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He tried to steal my dogs.

I’d seen smoke on one of the islands on Blood Lake, and I went to investigate. Smoke meant someone had been shipwrecked or, even worse, they had come to Blood Lake on purpose.

A shipwreck meant the walls between worlds had thinned enough to send entire vehicles through, and that meant more to worry about.

One or two intruders, well, that was something else entirely.

They were infiltrators, and they rarely wanted to pay a visit and slip away again.

We had crossed the ice, and I dragged a light canoe behind me. I didn’t want to reach any patches of open water, but who knew what the Hollow might slip in on a cold February day.

When we reached the island where I’d seen the smoke, I tied up the canoe and the dogs, and I went inland.

The dogs picked up the scent of someone, and soon we were following the trail. As we advanced upon a copse of trees, I caught sight of a tent, and then a gunman struck.

The bullet caught me below the sternum, punching its way through my thick coat and the layers of clothes. I felt the round damage my heart, then the jarring pain as I was knocked to the snow.

My dogs, Wolf and Hound, leapt to my defense, charging at the gunman as he fumbled with his rifle while trying to chamber another round. A loud, angry curse escaped the man’s mouth, and he drew a long blade from his belt, slashing at the dogs, keeping them at arm’s length.

Wolf and Hound lunged and dodged, avoiding blows but barely damaging the man. Flecks of blood glistened on the snow, and I got to my feet.

When the man saw me, he hesitated long enough for Hound to lock his jaws on the man’s wrist. The dog wrenched down, and the blade dropped.

Wolf dashed in and attacked the man’s groin.

The dogs savaged the assailant as I walked toward them, pausing only to pick up the dropped knife.

“I wouldn’t have hurt them!” he shrieked as the dogs backed off, their muzzles red with blood.

“No?”

“No,” the man sobbed. “I would have sold them. That’s all.”

“No one,” I told the man, moving closer. “Steals my friends from me.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but I slipped the blade into his mouth and began to carve.

No one touches my dogs.

#dogs #horrorstories

Published by

Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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