Short Stories From A Peculiar Mind

The Dog

The dog stood in my front yard as a statue. His solid stare was aimed at the front door, although the door was not open. From the view of my living room window, I could see no collar on the canine. His unwavering position rang slightly odd in my mind, although he gave off no sinister aura. He seemed liked a regular dog who had the luxury of choosing a new home, mine.
The absence of a house pet in my childhood impelled me to open my door for this animal. My matured 19-year-old mind told me to go inspect him in my front yard first. I'd only just moved into this small one bedroom, one bathroom house two days ago. Perhaps the canine has some connection to this house. It had been vacant for seven months, so it seemed feasible that this animal was only returning to what was his. The previous owner, a single man, had suddenly disappeared after not paying his mortgage for several months.
I decided to inspect him closer. Walking to the front door, I opened it. Looking at the dog through the screen door, I could see his dark brown eyes. They locked with mine. He seemed wiser than the average stray, I thought. Opening the screen door resulted in the dog bolting through, giving me no time to stop him. He sat in the middle of my small living room, seeming to examine the objects strewn about. His snout was pointed at the blank television, revealing his own reflection to himself. I sighed, sitting down on my couch. I soon realized how foolish it would be to keep him. Although the company would be much appreciated by myself, if not for just a night. I decided I would call tomorrow to report the missing animal.
After several minutes passed, he trotted over to me and laid down in front of the couch. I gently rubbed his head and ears, enjoying the small comfort he offered. I pondered the appetite this canine would possibly hold, and then my thoughts turned to my own hunger.
After stand up from the couch, I ventured into the kitchen. My cupboards and refrigerator were dauntingly barren. I pulled out a can of beans, turned on the stove and began to cook the small meal for us.
Turning around, I'm startled to see the dog sitting in the hallway. What's bothersome was the fact that he stared into the dark hallway, not at what I was doing. The smell of the baked beans recaptured my attention. I turned the stove off and grabbed two plates, one for myself and the other for the dog.
Walking into the living room with the food, I turned on the television. He seemed unfazed by the sounds of laughter and chatter emitted by the device. He continued to stare down the dark hallway, as if transfixed by the dirty laundry hamper at the end of the short hall. I shrugged off his strange behavior and began to enjoy my baked beans.
Not a solid two minutes later, I heard low rumbling. I crane my neck to see the dog had moved to the front of the bathroom. His nose was gliding slowly around the crease of the door and its frame, as if searching for something. I sighed, seeing the agitation in his actions. I strolled over to him, turning the lights on in the hallway. Seeing his interest in my bathroom, I opened the door. He once again darted in, repeating his earlier habit. I turned on the bathroom light as well, watching the animal wander back and forth in the small lavatory. His head become transfixed on a small part of the floor, coincidentally covered up by the bathroom rug. I sighed again, believing the door smelled something foul. My guess was some sort of mold. I lifted the rug up off the floor to examine the decoration, when I noticed small lines in a rectangle pattern on the floor. A small looped string stuck out of one of the corners, giving me the urge to pull it. The dog seemed just as transfixed, pawing at the out rectangle. He began whining, clearly distraught over something about it. I reached down, but over, the dog's head, pulling at the looped string. Latches creaked as the hidden door swung open, releasing the worst stench I'll ever smell in my life. Not more than 8 feet down in this tiny, 4x4 cellar, the smiling gap-toothed face of a gaunt man met my gaze.