Yeah, I know. You love dogs. Everyone loves dogs, even me.
Well . . . I once loved dogs.
But after I became a spoiler, love simply got in the way of shiesting the future-dead so I can survive and stuff. I had to shut down puppy-love permanently in favor of keeping my limbs intact. Would be pretty hard to don an awesome mohair sweater from the 60's if my digits were missing.
This particular pooch was no small problem, either. The moment it saw me, it began to growl, bearing its teeth viciously. Somehow, this nice suburban software-developer and housewife had entangled themselves with the deadliest dog breed to spoilers:
The Chow Chow.
I'm not even gonna listen if you start telling me they are a bundle of orange fluffy heaven. I'm not even hearing your rapping about their "eyes like pools of unconditional acceptance." This monster wanted my throat, and if the past few years had taught me anything, it may indeed get it.
I backed up suddenly, planting my feet firmly on the pavement. The woman let me go.
"Oh, don't be afraid," whispered the woman, "Peaches is a love-bug! Aren't you, Peaches!" she cooed and wriggled her head in the direction of the monster in that annoying my-dog-is-my-child way.
I took two more steps back. "No, it's not that. It's just . . . I forgot something in the bathroom . . . "
Peaches began to bite at the window, his little sharp teeth clicked at the glass.
"Have a seat, rest! We'll get it for you," said the man, grasping my elbow tightly, pulling me toward the car. "Won't you go get it, honey? The thing she left in the bathroom?"
The woman smiled but said nothing. She simply stared into her husband's eyes while Peaches went all killer-Kong on the seats. The man's grip on my elbow was so tight, my fingers began to tingle.
I was at that moment I knew.
I bent my elbow down and grabbed his leg and read him again, his death. I had expected to see the flying glass, the wind-whipped hair, the deflated airbag as his head disappeared into his dashboard.
But that was not what I saw.
"Crap!" I yelled. I yanked my elbow from his grasp and head-clobbered him with my Hot Pockets. His face turned into a Walmart Bag for a few moments, then, he lunged for me, almost grabbing my shirt.
The woman opened the SUV door and Peaches leaped through the air--an orange, fluffy missile heading straight for me.
I took off running. My vintage boots did me no favors.
I heard the clicky clack of dog claws closing in.
The couple knew what I was.
And when they caught me, they'd kill me.
YOU ARE READING
Spoiler Alert
RomanceLydia has the power to see how people will die. Some of these deaths are quite grisly. But, due to unsuccessful attempts at saving them, she has given up on warnings and instead has turned her attention to making money. After all, a little insurance...
