Sutures: a Creepypasta Fanfiction

Chapter 1: Strange Red Dog

The air vibrated like the front row of a rock concert as fireworks exploded in the sky. I hollered from the deck of my tree house, which sat on the edge of the forest in my backyard. On the ground were my parents with their friends who were invited to their fourth of July celebration. 

Once the neighborhood firework show ended, I went to my telescope to try and search for another firework show in the distance, but stopped when I heard some weird animal sounds. I looked around the base of the tree I was in to try and locate the sound. When I didn't, I grabbed a hot dog from the small plate my mom sent up to me and began to climb down to the ground. 

"Where are you going, honey?" asked my mother while she continued to dance with my father in her loose dress.

"Can I go explore a little? I won't go far," I responded, knowing she wouldn't let me if I told her I heard a dog.

"Okay, dear. Just don't go to far. Party is gonna wrap up soon, and I want you inside."

I saluted her, hot dog in hand, then began to walk out towards the woods.

I pulled my flashlight out of my stuffed bear backpack as a precaution. I followed the little path my dad made with mulch towards the sound. I flipped on my flashlight as it got darker from the thick canopy. The sound of music was drowned out by the distance and the boom of distant fireworks. 

The whimpering sounds got louder and louder until my flashlight lit up something moving. I stopped in my tracks as I watched the creature limped across the path. Once it noticed the light, it stopped as well and looked at me with its large black eyes. The whimpering halted and it began to growl in a low, deep tone. 

Being the genius I was, I took a careful step forward, holding out the hot dog, offering it to what I could now see being a dog, then crouched, trying to prove that I wasn't a threat. I stopped about eight feet away from it when it barked, then inched a little more as he seemed to relax, guessing what gender he was. How dare I?

Once I was close enough, I noticed his fur was red, with black husky like markings. My heart broke, assuming the red was blood, but I soon realized, natural or dyed, that red was the actual color of his fur. 

The dog began to sniff at me, mostly curious of the hot dog. Once I was about two feet away, I sat on my knees and broke off a third of the hot dog before offering it to him. 

He gave me an uncertain look before laying down in front of me and taking the hot dog. He was rather big, so he swallowed the whole thing in one go. I ripped off more of the hot dog and fed it to him until it was gone. He let himself get closer and laid his head on my lap, seeming to smile.

I stroked his fur on his head. "It's okay, buddy. Are you okay? Where are you hurt?" I ran my hand along his back, trying to see if he was actually injured. He began to cry softly when I checked his left hind leg. I pulled my hands away. When he seemed to calm down, I tried again. I must have touched it the wrong way, because he began to cry and panic.

He tried to get away as fast as possible, clawing at my lower right arm in the process. I held back a scream as I felt the gnashes and watched him run away in the opposite direction of my house.

"No! Come back!" I called, but to no avail.

Once I realized the he wouldn't return, I decided that I should return home and get my arm checked. I stood up, flashlight in hand, and took inventory of my injuries. There was the obvious slashes on my arm, but they weren't too deep. The rest were the little scratches on my legs, but they only bled a little. The main concern way just my arm.

I rushed home, aiming the light at the ground in front of me to avoid tripping on anything. When I reached the back yard, the party was ended, my parents and one other person cleaning up. My parents noticed me immediately and quickly took me inside to clean me up and to have my nurse of a mother stitch me up with her deluxe first aid kit. They told me I had the option to go to the hospital, but I believed in my mother' skill.

The process didn't really hurt. I couldn't, however, stop talking about the dog. I explained everything to my mother, as she sewed up my arm with a careful hand, my father telling the remaining guest that I was okay and finishing the cleanup. Once my mom was done and I finished explaining everything, she had me follow her towards the bathroom.

"Honey, look, I'm not mad, but next time you see a dog or any animal, come get either your father or I. I am proud of what you were trying to do, and it takes a big heart, but it wasn't the smartest thing to do. I hate to do this, but you are to avoid the woods for the next week while your father and I are at work. Understood?" She handed me a cookie from the party to end her statement.

I nodded. "Okay. But what if I see the dog again?"

"You're thirteen. You are old enough to make smart decisions." She smiled and winked. She then stood up and began to make her way to the back door, attached to the kitchen. "All that matters is that nothing too bad happened, and because of you, the dog is one step closer to trusting people.

When she was gone, i took my cookie upstairs to my room to get ready for bed.