Dead dog
“Oi bro, cover me while I make a run, ok?”
“Sure thing Brandon.”
“Sweet,” Brandon said while he frantically ran through the run down and war terrorized city. He went past two men on the floor trigger happy. Brandon darted left, and then right, then left again doing the occasional knife along the way, eventually an old splintered box was in front of him, he was crouching, and slowly walked towards it. Then blackness.
“EDDY OH MY GOD I WAS SO CLOSE!” Brandon screeched, nearly obliterating the damned headset he was wearing.
“Sorry! Sorry! I swear you went right in front of someone!” He genuinely pleaded, while Brandon only thought he was sucking up to him for his own devilish satisfaction.
Brandon then, out of the blue, just heard the click of the PowerPoint, and his mother’s rigid adamant voice, “Dammit son, this has gone way too far! I could have probably heard you from Azerbaijan!” Brandon just looked down gazing onto the shiny laminated floor. “Look son just go outside and play with that nine hundred dollar dog you always wanted.” Brandon stood up, and flicked his lush brown hair to the side of his smooth face. He lumbered outside the house, while his mother was crossing her arms noting his every move. Brandon walked out onto the lifeless motion of the plastic grass; he walked over to his dog’s kennel, and kicked it. Silence. He then turned his head slimly, and kicked it again still nothing.
He then quickly scurried to his home phone, dialled up Ed’s number, and waited impatiently for him to pick up. “What the heck do you want now?”
“Ed… Ed Jr is missing.”
“Sugar honey ice tea!” Ed yelled. “I’m going right over.” Brandon put down his phone, and ran outside while equipping himself with some practical tools.
Ed came shortly after in his black jumper. “Let’s go” Brandon nodded, and walked off into the polluted streets. They looked around the neighbourhood, around bushes, and trees. Though no sign of Ed Jr. Brandon stopped, and slumped himself along a sign, panting. He was watching Ed pacing back and forth imagining things in his mind. He chuckled, and got up then noticing the sign above him. There was a sort of hat. He got out his spray can and spray painted, he had a little grin on his face, and painted a person on the sign.
His sniggering quickly evaporated as he noticed a large black, Doberman pinscher in the distance. His head was looking at him with blood going down his teeth, his lips, and then onto the cracked black bitchemen road. His lips were vibrating with a harsh noise, and darkness seemed to swirl around it. Brandon stumbled with his spray paint in front of him, and he fell on his knees. He looked to the side, and saw Eddy bolting down the street, he swerved his head back, and the dog was creeping closely, until all you could see was the blackness of the immensity of the dog. Brandon’s head was swirling with fear, as the dog was creeping up ready to pounce.
There was a few seconds of silence, until a cloud of blackness fell upon Brandon. He looked over, and saw a beast clenching on his arm, with blood splurging onto his face. He looked into his eyes, then pain started scorching through his arm, and he felt sick. With his left arm he briefly remembered he had the spray paint can in his arm, he pressed it, and paint unleashed into the dogs eyes, making it wail in pain. Brandon got onto his knees, and unsheathed his knife.
The dog felt a searing pain in his left shoulder piercing in heart. The Doberman limped off, blood entailing the road he was on, yowling for help. Brandon stood up shifting from side to side, and slowly stumbling to the park on the next road. All he could remember was the bright sun, and the lingering around him. The boy went on further a few metres, and then a loud thud could be heard. The lids of his eyes fell down his face. He couldn’t remember a thing more.
“Huh what?” he whispered while he was moving his head, and feeling a cold liquid on his face. “Eddy Jr?”
“Wolf, wolf,” A small little Beagle was on his body licking his face. The dog ran off, and he tried to see where it went. He couldn’t keep his eyes open for any longer, and it slowly went down, with a tear down his face.
“Brandon! God dammit Brandon, are you there or not?! Speak to me for god’s sake! Something, say something!” All he could hear was his mother’s loving voice.
“Mum is that you?”
“Yes son. It’s ok, you’re safe now.”
-Yvan Vincekovic
