Little Miss Hellhound (nanowrimo2022)

Chapter 13

The evening sun beat down on all of us. The fan fitted in the corner of the van kept us cool, at least. The back window was open as well, giving a nice vibe and letting the smell of all six of us out. Aside from the collie, there were also the four stray dogs I had named before: Captain tried to tackle me when I got in, but I managed to push him away. It killed none of his enthusiasm. Comfort was all cleaned up. Seemed like he was the most at home here, but I knew he probably had an owner before since he was in the shelter. Floppy, with his clipped ears, was half sleep in the back of the van, resting on a blanket. Tiny was proudly sitting next to the alpha. The same redhead from the train and the dog show was driving, no one else in the front seat. The van, honestly, had a lot of personality. String lights, pictures of dogs, and a map made up of flyers from the places she's been across the country. I figured the dog show thing was probably her parents' idea or something. I feel for you. Except your terrible fashion sense. There wasn't any dog grooming equipment, though. Just a mat that my paws gripped mysteriously well to keep me from sliding around. The collie sat behind the front seat, upright and with her full attention on me. It felt kind of weird riding around with her for the last hour. The strays talked up a storm on how they were found on the side of the road (which I told them not to walk along) and cleaned up by the 'master' who picked them up. I told them enough they could understand about the dog show. Unlike the judges, they saw it as a point of pride I was able to run so fast I couldn't control myself. But I still no longer felt like I could. The tension was killing me for the rest of the trip.

"Collie?" I said. "Why didn't you tell me anything I wanted to know at the shelter?"

She was quiet.

"Those dogs couldn't tell their tail from a chew toy–no offense, Comfort–and I could've used your directions." I tried being as polite as possible. I still remembered the look she gave me at the dog show. "Hello?"

"She can't speak, Sparkles." Right. They're still calling me that. "I didn't know until after being around her for a while."

The collie nodded her head. She rested one paw on the side of the van while parting her thick neck fur with the other. I leaned in close and saw a brown band running along her fur and skin, all the way around her neck. It wasn't any part of her coat, I knew that. There was even a surgery scar near the front of her neck, and I did know what that was for. Kim said taking the bark out of a dog is unnatural, and I agree. I know this one's been through a lot. None of it looked natural, but at least it was hidden. It almost looked like the product of a bruise or a really tight collar. And her owner didn't strike as as that type–or I'd break us all out of here right now. She had a sad look on her face, which I figured out was more of the same look she had the whole time. I was probably too overwhelmed or angry to realize it sooner, but she never really looked happy. Until now, at least.

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry to hear–see that. I feel kind of bad now."

The collie shook her head, resting a paw on me.

"She's trying to thank you," Comfort said. "We've been traveling together for some time now, and we've figured out what she tries to say when she can't."

"I know how you feel," I said to the collie.

She nodded, pointing to my collar.

"Yeah, I couldn't stay. Not after that whole thing with the judges table and the rings. I'd probably end up some lab experiment."

She pointed more, practically poking her nose into the part where the ribbon used to be clipped.

"Yeah. I did win for best health, though. I would've given me that if I were a judge," I chuckled.

She brushed her own fur in that same spot, trying to whimper best she could. She pushed her fur back together as quickly as she parted it, clearly ashamed of her scars. I swear, this dog cuts deep.

"You seem pretty healthy, though. Doing well for yourself. Collected, calm. All the things I tried doing when I was alive. Did you at least have fun?"

Her mood instantly swung, wagging her tail and giving me a warmer look.

"See? You can't really fault yourself for failing and trying. That's what Begal did, and I had to talk her out of it. Just have fun with it, you know?"

She licked my face, but this time I didn't mind. At least, for a little bit before gently pushing her away.

"You're welcome. For what?"

She showed me her scar again, but this time didn't hide it away as quick. She licked it, almost like she was licking a fresh wound. She was healing. I think putting herself in front of everyone helped her out a bit, or it was supposed to. Only after a long while did she hide her scar again, embracing me once more. I still don't know what I had to do with it, but I guess I'll find out, wherever it is we're going. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Tiny was holding a thin block of wood in his mouth. Too thick to bite through, but thin enough to be chewed apart slowly.

"I told her all about how strong you were!" Comfort said. "She said she didn't believe you until after she saw you run in the dog show. Can you do it again?"

I gripped the plank in my jaw. Why not? I bit down hard as I could, feeling something crack from the force. It was the plank, but it was still in one solid piece. I tried again, biting down until it snapped. It took a bit more effort than I was used to. And it didn't have one singe mark that wasn't already there. I didn't know what was happening. That demon never said anything about being super strong or breathing fire, so there's no rules on taking it away. Maybe I caused too much discourse with the whole feat of impossibility during the show. But it seemed like I wouldn't have this power forever. It's for the best, anyway, whether it comes back or not. I know what to do with a million dollars. I don't know what to do with claws that can literally saw a car in half.

"Where are we going?" I asked the collie (why, she can't respond).

She reared up and put her front paws on the side window. We were driving over a set of mountains. The view was pretty nice, actually. Picture moment right there. There were mountains in all directions from Vegas, so I guess we were going out of state. No idea where, though. The collie had a big, dumb smile on her face. As dumb a smile as a collie could manage, at least. I have no idea how long I have to stay like this, or if I even want to go back. I had fun back there. And I'll probably have fun wherever I go. Putting posers and mean girls in their place. Beating off sutors with a stick–though, those days are probably over. I don't even want to think about that–that kind of stuff. The stuff I wanted to do. And some of the things I need to do before I get called back to hell. I don't know when that'll be. I never got a solid time frame. Sparkles, fake Jessie, who knows what i'll go by next. It seemed so liberating and structured at the same time. A life I could honestly get behind if the looming sentence of the afterlife actually being a thing wasn't in the back of my mind. For now, as long as these dogs were happy, it was good enough for me.