My name is Robert Howard. I grew up in a small barn house on the border between PA and NJ. We didn't farm plants but instead a variety of animals. I love animals. I had a loving family, just me, Pa and Ma. No neighbors in a 5 mile span which was relaxing and lonely. Being an only child wasn't too bad but being home schooled along with it made me a very un-social person. I rarely had interaction with people other than my parents. A pathetic habit which now I regret. I regret so much. I went into depressions quite often, secretly cutting myself a few times, contemplating suicide, realizing how un-needed I am, getting over it and then the cycle would repeat. Repeating was torture. It never stopped. I have too much time to think, and then I over think what I'm trying to forget. My parents realized I have a personality disorder and felt much sympathy for me which I oddly wanted. I guess I yearned for the attention, as brief as it was. Attention is important after all. One day I woke up and sluggishly walked into the kitchen where my loving parents whispered. What's happening? Why are they whispering? Are they gonna send me away? Does that mean they don't trust me? I thought they loved me? What if I died? Would they even care? If I cry will they keep me out of pity? Why the fuck was I even born? This is an example of my paranoia. Over thinking everything. They both smiled at me in sync and held out a box with holes in it. They appeared excited and proud of themselves. I've never seen them this way. The happiness actually rubbed off onto me for once. I couldn't help but laugh at the sweetness of the situation. I gently opened the box and peered inside. My heart sunk. The curious eyes of a puppy met with mine, and not just any kind of puppy. My favorite, a husky. A tear dropped from my eye. This was a tear of pure joy. How stupid am I to think my parents would actually send me away. They got me a fucking puppy! That's like the exact opposite. I thanked them plenty and started to bond with the little guy. I called him Damian since I've always liked the name. He had those husky eyebrows that made him appear angry. His nose was jet black. His fur had a blue/gray hue to it. His mouth was fucking huge. His ears were perked up and he was always wide eyed. Those pale eyes. It didn't take me long to notice he was a weird dog. He had an intense stare, and wouldn't move when he made eye contact. Just stare. Damian was different. I knew we'd get along. He slept with me in my room every night but not in my bed. He always stayed by the window, starring outside like the odd dog he was. We could relate with each other. Not in many ways because he's a dog and well I'm a human, but personality wise. Season after season I watched Damian grow, only in size though. He got pretty big unnaturally fast. If he stood up he'd be my height and I was 5″10. It was freaky cause I only had him for about a year at that point. As time passed things started to.... change. My parents were completely oblivious to Damian's strangeness. You know how I said he starred out the window at night? Well he started to just look at me. And each night creep his way a little more towards the bed. Even by centimeters, he was definitely getting closer. I could tell every time I blinked. It was the first time an animal had creeped me out. I never got this vibe before. Later he actually jumped up onto the bed with me for once and laid his head on my back. It was cute at first. I cuddled him and then turned the lights out. A few hours later I woke up with a wet neck. I wondered through the house in blackness till I found the bathroom and turned the light on. Damian was behind me. It scared the shit out of me how silent he was. Then I looked up in the mirror and saw my neck. It was bleeding down my back, staining my white tank top. The crimson color set off flags in my head. Shit! Damian must've done this. Why would he though? Did he do it out of hatred? Is he gonna kill me if I sleep near him? Am I gonna have to get rid of him? I hope not I still love him. He must've been confused or something. Is he still behind me? I looked down to see him angrily staring at me. Smiling..... Wait. What the fuck. I'm seeing shit, that dog did not just smile at me right? I started to tear up from the very thought of Damian smiling at me. Then... I started crying. I don't know what came over me, but I was scared shitless. My neck continued to gush and the pain settled in. Damian casually walked out of the bathroom into the dark hallway. "Mom!!!! Dad!!!!" I needed another human around. I needed closure. "wh... What honey? It's 3 a.m." Mom tiredly mumbles from their bedroom. It felt nice to hear her voice though she sounded miserable. I felt guilty for waking her up. I walked to their bedroom and turned on their lights...... Dead. Both of them. Blood everywhere. Their necks torn open. Spots of red on every wall. Pure surprise on their final expressions. The horror is unexplainable. They're dead. Both my parents. All I have in this fucking world. Gone. And sitting in the only dark corner of the bright crimson room is that dog. That thing. Smiling. Angrily smiling. Looking right at me. Its teeth are human like. I never noticed them before. I just thought it was a simple husky. But now looking at my parent's skin between its teeth and blood dripping off of its human smile I realize I'm dealing with the unknown. I slowly back up, out of its sight and make my way towards the table with my Polaroid camera. I gotta get a picture of it. I know I'm going to die either way. I want to die at this point. But I need to warn others. They need to know what this thing looks like. I turn on the camera and the 10 second timer goes on by mistake. 10...9...8... I struggle to stop the timer. 7...6...5... He splits the front of my throat. 4...3...2... I'm dying on the floor and reaching for the camera. 1... It smiles at the flash. It's silent. I can't tell if I was bleeding out on that floor for 5 minutes or 5 hours. It's so dark in this room it feels like an empty dream. I crawled to the computer. The light made the room a dim blue. No sign of that monster which was exactly what I didn't want. I wanted the opportunity to kill him. I started writing this to let out a warning to all of you, he's out there. Don't doubt it for a second. I hear his claws against the wood floor now. He's in the door way. Why does he look so distorted compared to before? "Don't forget the picture." Yep he just spoke. He really just said that. Now I'm rethinking the whole spreading the message thing. The picture is attached to this message. I'm still debating
