Short Story Compilations

What they See

The moon shone in the dark sky, but it's sweet, soft light was destroyed by the street lamps placed at regular intervals along the side of the street. My dog pulled at the restraints of her red leash to sniff at the cropped green grass. She always enjoyed our nightly rounds around the neighborhood. Currently, we were making our way around the plaza in the middle of town. A brick sidewalk surrounded the rectangular grass space. In the middle of each side, a brick path traveled to the center of the plaza. In the center, there was a stone fountain, a bowl with a pillar rising from it. On the top of the pillar, there was a chubby cheeked cherub with it's lips puckered as water was expected to come from them. But the fountain hadn't been working for the past decade. We were on the north side of the plaza, when Lacy, my dog, froze. Her wet, black nose was working furiously, trying to work out a scent. Her plumy gold and white tail curled to go in between her legs, and she whined. Her gaze was on a fixed point in the distance.

“What is it, girl?” I asked with concern. Lacy looked at me, her gaze was pleading and frightened. Then, with lightning speed, she turned, and began to run down the street.

“Hey now!” I cried as I was pulled along with her.

I licked his hand as he stared at the shiny, silver, case. I had never really liked these things. They took my companion's attention from me, and when open, shed an unnatural light. His eyes tore away from the case, and he grinned at me. Excited by his notice, I barked, and my tail wagged. He said something in Person Speak, but he sounded happy, which made me happy, so I barked again and began to dance. He laughed. I liked my companion's laugh. It wasn't high, like a little dog's yip, but wasn't low enough to echo around my head. It was perfect. I followed him from the couch room, to the hallway, where he attached a vine to the loop around my neck. My companion chattered in Person Speak for a while, when I heard I one word that made me very, VERY, happy.

“Walk?”

Outside, it was dark and cold. I waited as patiently as I could while my companion took his time as he put on his paw coverings. Then, we were off. I smelled scents of other dogs that passed through here, leaving their messages. Sometimes I replied, if it was worth it. Eventually we came to a big rectangle of grass that many dogs and their companions visited in the day, including myself. But this place was different in the night. It was lonely, quiet. My tail was up like a banner as I sniffed through different discussions. Then, I hit a surprisingly strong smell. It was almost as if a dog had just been through here. But when I checked the air for noise with a quick flick of my ears, there were no signs of other life. I studied the scent a bit closer. It was laced in fear and panic. A wailing moan grabbed my attention. Across the street there was a bench. Sitting on it was something awful. It was a person with long, untidy black hair. It was wearing a torn white dress which was laced in grey slime. Her (because I had decided it was a she-person) furless skin was almost as white as her dress. But her arms. Oh her arms! They were covered in something... Indescribable. It glistened like it was wet. But the color was so strange, so odd, so frightening. The glistening stuff wasn't black, white, or any shade of grey. It was bright, but dark. It stood out, and reminded me of a time in my puphood, when I cut my paw on a thorn. I whined at the strange horror of it. Then the she-person looked up at me. Oh how awful! Her eyes were the same color as her arms. Indescribable, strange, and just terrifying. My companion cooed something in a concerned fashion, and I looked up at him. Didn't he see this awful thing? The she-person cried another mournful, terrible, moan, and I knew I just had to get out of here. I turned, and ran, dragging my protesting companion with me.