After begging and begging, Charlie finally got to keep the creature. Charlie loved him, his soft fur would cuddle up to her at night. Dexter would occasionally pat his head but never anything more.
"Now tell me," Dexter started, "who is going to feed your beloved dog?"
"Me. And he's not just a dog, he's a wolf."
"A wolf who will soon want to rip your guts out and chew on your fleshy little bones," Dexter laughed.
"That's not funny!" Charlie said, gliding her hand through the strands of her wolf's fur.
"What are you calling it?"
"I was thinking Coby," she said, her eyes shining with her tears sneaking up behind her eyes.
"Coby the cub." Dexter smiled and walked off.
Charlie knew that Dexter didn't like talking about the ones they lost. In fact, she knew nothing about any of the ones he lost.
"Charlie!" Dexter screamed.
She didn't know where to turn. Where did he last go? Where did he walk off to?
"Where are you?" She screamed back. No reply. Coby snarled and barked.
"DEXTER!" Charlie shouted. Coby ran off into the distance.
"Hey!" Charlie called. Oh, everything was going so wrong.
She sprinted towards the area Coby ran.
"Hello," a woman smirked. Dexter was sat on a log, sweating, panting, laughing.
"Hi..." Charlie edged towards Dexter. She couldn't see Coby. Shit.
"Looking for this?" The woman with red lipstick threw Coby at Charlie by the scruff of his neck.
"Thanks," Charlie scowled. "Now who the hell are you?"
"Watch your attitude or I'll throw you with the Infected."
"Go ahead and try!" Charlie shouted.
Dexter split them up.
"Charlie, meet my sister, Dani."
Charlie's jaw dropped.
YOU ARE READING
Our World Is Slowly Dying
ParanormalIn a world of infected, what hope is expected? A group of survivors grow used to the sight of place faced, infected skinned alive dead people. In a world no answers, they must make their own.