The Baying of the Hounds

First of all, I'd like to thank you for the food, and for you to know that I am not insane. I am a well-educated man--

"Oh, great. I just wanted to be a bit kind to him, not to be a good listener", I muttered, receiving sharp nudge on the ribs from her.

--who graduated with honors from a prestigious school in Manila. I was born with a silver spoon in mouth, yes, you can say that. My parents gave me everything I asked, anything I desired.

"Well then", I interrupted, making a joking gesture to reach the man's food. "I guess you don't need this anymore."

"Pardon my him, sir", she said irritatedly. "He's a smart mouth."

Heh, we all need a good humor once in a while. You never know when you will be needing it the most. I used to laugh at odd things, like at the sound you make talking in front of a fan, at violent slapstick, and at dogs. Oh, how funny those creatures were!

"How are dogs funny?", she asked. "Sir." I shifted uncomfortably beside her. It was dusk and mosquitos are swarming all over the place.

How are they not funny? You see them scratching their asses on the floor, how they slaver they see their food, how they bark at things that aren't there? I have always thought of them as stupid creatures, only here on this world for our entertainment.

"Oooh", I sneered. "You'd make a PETA supporter fume in outrage."

PETA? They would have been the least of my worries.

Head cocked a little as if in confusion, she asked, "Huh? Why is that so?"

I was 10 years old when I thought of asking for a pet when I saw our neighbors walk their dog to the park one sunny day. And of course, being the spoiled brat I am, my parents gave me a my first pet dog. It was a young Golden Retriever, of 9 months of age. I was so happy that day that I even fed my dog half of what I should have been eating everytime. One night, I was sitting outside our gate with my dog. It apparently was on a frenzy, digging at the vacant lot in front of our house. I was gazing skyward, hoping for a shooting star, when I felt my dog return at my side. I heard a soft rattle, as if from a thick metal, returning my gaze downward, and I saw my dog standing rigidly, in FRONT of me, its fur standing at an end, an object lying near it. I saw its mouth, its teeth bared, its fangs protuding, its yellowish fangs, and its saliva, pouring down. And its eyes! Staring in front of it, staring into nothingness. A growl, faint at first, emanted from the depths of the dog's throat, slowly rising in volume. I felt goosebumps creeping under my skin as I turned to see what my dog was seeing. It was pitch black around us, barely illuminated by our porch lights, but I felt something. It was brushing upon my very fiber of being as the night creeps upon the last vestiges of sunset. It was there. Something. It WAS there. 

"What was it?", I asked anxiously, fearing the answer. Beside me, I could feel her drawn nearer as we expected a climactic finish.

But then suddenly, my dog let out a loud bark, a bark that came deep within its throat, even beyond it. It was baying at something, following it with its eyes, its head gazing upward. I covered my ears with my hands, desperate to block the noise. I was not trying to deny my ears the sound of the barks. It was the untiring sound of seemingly gigantic wings flapping above us that I was trying to block. 

"Whoa", I started, "Is that for real?" But the man continued. 

 I tried and tried to unhear it, but the sound was too unreal. It was too otherworldy. Then, another dog, this time from my neighbor, added to my dog's baying. Followed by another. And another. Soon the place was full of baying of dogs. Dear lord! Can't anyone hear me? I cried to myself. I gathered what strength was left of me and ran back inside our house. I ran back for my life, for my sanity.

"So you haven't seen that... uh... the thing?", I blurted out. 

No.

"Not even a hint?", I insisted.

Only that its winged, that I'm sure. But let me get back to my story.

As I reach our house, my dog fast at my heels, I immediately closed our main door. Slumping at the door, I notice something latched at my dog's mouth. I took the object that realized that it was an amulet. With close inspection, the trinket bore several undiscernable writing and markings of a quadruped creature with a semi-canine face and wings. A huge set of wings. My breath escaped me as I saw those gigantic wings. Just then, my dog howled. A long howl that sent shivers down my spine.  It stopped, as if listening. At a distance, another dog howled. Followed by more howls.  I gazed fearfully at the windows and wondered, 'Why won't my parents wake up?' 

Suddenly, the man stopped talking. 

"So?", I urged him. "What happened?" 

Yet he still seemed so deaf to our words.

"You think he's ok?", she asked me.

"Think so, yeah", I answered.

Shush! Don't you hear it?

"Uh, what?", I asked, puzzled.

Listen!

"Err, okay", I answered. I strained my ears to hear what the man was talking about, and heard it. That omnious sound. The baying of hounds from a distant place. Then silence.

"See? Its nothing." This seemed to calm the man a little.

"By the way", she started, "What happened to the amulet you were talking about?" The man's eyes widened in anxiety.

Ahhh, yes. The amulet.

The man reached inside his coat pocket and produced an amulet, the same trinket as he described in his story.

A omnious feeling of dread caught us as we glimpsed at the object. It has an eerie feel to it. It is as if it was not meant to be seen, much less held by the likes of us. At a far distance, the baying of hounds can be heard again.

"Any luck finding out what those inscriptions mean?", I asked the man. He looked at me and gave me a forlorn gaze.

They are from an ancient language and race, only known by a few people, and these people don't want to part easily with their knowledge. But I have gotten sufficient information from them to know what the inscriptions in the amulet meant.

Then the man paused.

"Well then?", I asked eagerly, repelling an undescribable feeling eating my insides with dread. "Go on, tell us what it means!"

The inscriptions meant: "Offer us a sacrifice, and rise above the rest."

"Uhhh,", I stammered. "I don't get it."

"Neither do I", she said.

These inscriptions aren't ancient languages for humans, these are ancient languages for a race of bipedal, canine-faced creatures.

"What?", we both asked in unison, the other skeptical, the other suprised, but the man only gave us a look of fear.

 My dogs wasn't trying to protect me from that thing when I was young. It was goading the winged creature to eat me. I was to be the sacrifice. This amulet was to summon that winged beast when a dog wanted to offer a sacrifice. Or rather, it was like a magnet for the winged beast. Then when the beast consumes its meal, it grants the dog the opportunity to be like it, to be another of those harbinger of nightmares. The other baying dogs are chanting, praising my dog for its dedication. When the winged beast failed to take me, my dog offered a substitute: my parents. 

"Sorry about the loss", I told the man, but he was still reminiscing his memories. The man remained quiet for quite a long time, so we took our leave. 

"See you around, sir.", she said, and when he did not take notice, we left for home.

Far away, the baying of the hounds increased in volume and sound. We both stopped on our tracks and listened. Footsteps can be heard, rushing towards us in a fast pace, the owner possessing small feet, and then I saw it. A small pack of hounds, rushing towards the place where we left the man. Following the pack was the sound of gigantic wings flapping high above our heads.