Prompt Day #63: Scenario: You sit in your favorite chair and –per the usual ritual—you whistle and your dog brings you slippers as you read the paper. Only this time, the slippers are made of dog fur and the dog isn’t your dog at all…It’s a — !
Whew! I cannot get behind on posting these prompts again. It takes forever to upload all these backed up stories. I think I have my wifi problem solved so this should not happen again unless I get behind on my daily writing. (I better not, eh?) Anyways, I liked the end of this one. I hope you do too. Happy Labor Day!
Even Bad Guys Love Their Dogs
It had been such a long day at work. I’d got stuck working four hours overtime because the night shift gal had car trouble and couldn’t find a ride. Someone had to man the store, so I stayed. It was dark by the time I got home and of course, not knowing I’d be working this late, I hadn’t left any lights on for myself. I cursed silently as I fumbled with the key but finally managed to unlock the door. Some days, I wish I didn’t have to come home to an empty house, well empty except for Buster but he can’t talk to me and he hasn’t been trained to turn the lights on. The newspaper lay where the paper boy threw it in front of the door. Buster was usually waiting for it and had it inside ready for me in my chair when I got home. Ah, the old boy was losing it. Twelve years is elderly in the dog world. I’d begun to wonder lately if dementia wasn’t maybe setting in.
He didn’t meet me at the door either but this time I assumed he was sleeping somewhere, depressed that he hadn’t been fed his dinner. I was too tired to call for him, deal with him jumping all over me, so I filled his dish, grabbed a slice of cold pizza from the fridge and a beer. I sat down in my chair, technically, they are all my chairs because no one else lives here or even visits, but this one is mine. It fits me perfectly and it’s got the best view of the TV which I turn on as I fall into my seat. I flipped the stations around; quickly bored by every show I tried to watch. Finally I whistled for Buster. He loves this trick. I whistle and he brings me my slippers while I read the paper. He’s never missed that trick. He didn’t come. I whistled again and this time called Buster! I heard his tags jingling then so I relaxed. I went back to flipping through the channels.
His collar landed in my lap and I heard the slippers hit the floor. I looked down first, and saw to my horror, Buster’s fur but no Buster. Instead, his fur covered my slippers. I let out a yip of surprise and turned around. Standing there, clad in a dirty, shredded tee shirt and panties stood a young woman. Her hair was clumped in knots almost to the point of dreadlocks. Her face was sunken and waxy. Her bare feet were black with filth and blood ran from her broken soil-caked fingernails. I saw clumps of Buster’s hair and God-help me, his innards caked to her shirt.
“What have you done?” I asked her. “And how did you get out?”
“You fucking bastard.” She said in a croaked, dehydrated voice. “How long were you going to keep me down there?”
“Never mind that,” I answered. “What have you done to Buster?”
“I made you some slippers, Honey.” She said, her voice dripping with scorn. “I dug my way out of that damn crawl space, day after day I dug. I ate bugs for God sakes. Bugs, Adam!” She held her bloody fingers out to me, as if I was going to pity her.
“It’s your own fault you had to go in there” I said “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, you had to go snooping through my things, didn’t you?” She had once upon a time been my girlfriend. I tried to keep my secrets from her. There was no reason for her to be snooping around the crawl space in the first place. But what was I supposed to do when she found the first body? I had no choice. It’s just, well, I never had feelings for the others. They were just dirty whores. But Tabby was my girl and I had almost started to love her. I tried to kill her, I did, but I couldn’t do it. So, I decided to let the other girls take care of her for me. She’d passed out already from my strangling her, so I just shoved her into the crawl space and walled it off. As soon as I’d finished with her once and for all—I had no choice now—I was going to go down there and figure out how exactly she’d gotten out.
“When I got out, Buster came down barking at me. I tried to shush him. I didn’t know if you were home. But he wouldn’t stop. So, I hit him over the head with your ball bat. I didn’t mean to kill him, he doesn’t deserve to die like you do.” She said. “But when I realized he was dead, I came upstairs for you, but you weren’t home. I saw your slippers sitting there and I had an idea. A little welcome home present for you. I’ve been downstairs working on them all day.”
I hadn’t moved. I was still in shock over poor Buster’s death. Why did I ever think I could trust a woman? They’re all liars and cheats and whores. Now I know what else they’re capable of. I let the rage come through me. Soon I would lose all sense of self and become the killer. I would forget all the good times I’d had with her before she turned out to be a sneaky little animal killing bitch. I took a good long look at her. She had the ball bat in her hands as if that was going to keep her safe.
“The police were called as soon as you pulled in the driveway. They’ll be here any second” She said and I could already hear the sirens. She wasn’t lying about that. “If you even try to stand up right now, I’ll put this bat to your head and you’ll go the same as Buster” She said.
But that’s when you boys showed up with your guns drawn and here I am.
“Yep, here you are” The younger of the two officers answered. “And that just about covers it for tonight. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you to your room.” He said standing up.
“Ok, Fine” I said “But what are you going to do about her killing my dog?”