《The Invisible Dog》


 Creation Of The Invisible Dog

    The whole memory was of the koi and of his father. His father was already very old when Yoshito was born. He meditated and remembered that day, he was three and a half years old.


    "We moved here when my son, you were born." Yoshito''s father had said.


    He had stared at the fish and recalled his birth. Later when his father died, he had stood at this pond and recalled the memory of when he was two, recalling his birth.


    This was a string of pearls, when he closed his eyes and dreamed or meditated. All of his very precious memories kept intact, perfectly and remembered.


    The call came in that interrupted this thought from Yoshito. Since his desk phone was off, in his office, on his scheduled afternoon teatime, the call came in the form of his secretary, Mrs. Djan.


    "A call from Doctor Reese, sir" she said.


    "Okay." Yoshito said plainly.


    Mrs. Djan noticed he was annoyed; his exact tone and patterns were different. A voice analysis would''ve not picked up the difference, but had it taken the human ear to detect. Mrs. Djan didn''t trust such machines, such as the secretary phone.


    Her boss took the call. Mrs. Djan left his office and returned to her own desk aware that it was imminent. It was time to find a new job. She simply pulled her phone and text a simple message to the new boss saying: "Reeses-in-pieces."


    "Reese, how are you? How is Carol? Is that squirrel still stealing from Annabelle''s bowl on the back porch? Ha Ha Ha." Yoshito talked to Reese.


    Reese had a lot to say because there was silence as Yoshito listened. He was telling Yoshito that he had done work on soldiers similar to what Yoshito was working on. It had gone very badly, they had become berserk monsters, possessed by the singular thought to kill. The rest hadn''t worked as well as before, with the canine subjects.


    Mrs. Djan heard none of this, but she knew the scope of what Doctor Reese might be saying.


    "Calm down." Yoshito told Doctor Reese. "You remember what I told you before?"


    "How not? I mean I will tell you again, just so you know." Yoshito replied.


    Mrs. Djan eavesdropped to this, but then Harris came in. He was head of security in the hospital.


    "Doctor Yoshito should be informed that a Mr. Reese is here to see him." Harris said to her back, catching her eavesdropping.


    "Right." Mrs. Djan straightened herself out. "That will be all then, Harris?"


    "Yes Ma''am." he frowned and left.


    She resumed her eavesdropping and heard Yoshito saying to Reese over the phone, who was apparently also in the building:


    "I was studying all the time, very focused and very good student. I was cold and my manner was not warm enough for the delivery of babies. I got my first patient and as we spoke the nurses cared for this pregnant woman. She was having her sixth child and she kept reminding me that she knew more about birthing children than I did with all my study. She wanted some tea. I told the nurse to pour the hot water for her. The pregnant woman insisted that I pour the hot water. She stared very intently, and I grew strangely nervous, and my pour became unsteady. The more unsteady my pouring of the hot water grew, the more intensely I tried to correct it and the more it gushed into the cup. Finally, some of the hot water dripped over the side onto the plate as I finished pouring. All that in just one escalating moment from one simple lack of preparation on my part. She fired me, judging me to be too green and incompatible with her next birthing. I had some money after college, such was my cold prudence. When other patients reacted similarly to her, I went into retreat and visited a garden of stone where a master of tea ceremony is willing to teach. It was not irrelevant to delivering babies. I went back and I felt different, having stared into empty stone lanterns. I delivered countless babies but then decided to go back to school. It was the mind I sought, instead of birth. I studied the human mind and became world renowned as a neural surgeon, second only to you Doctor Reese."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "It is a long story." Reese complained. "And I am tired of hearing it, word for word."


    He suddenly burst into the office of Mrs. Djan with Harris as a hostage at gun point. He had a zip gun.


    The zip gun was a weapon where a spring coiled around a nail in a thin pipe was held by a vice-grip tool''s trigger-release. It was loaded with just one bullet, but it would fire that into Harris if she reacted. Or that was what Reese was saying to her anyway.


    He had his phone on Bluetooth, still talking to Yoshito who was in his office on the other side of the door. Reese shuffled past Mrs. Djan like she might be armed.


    "I sit." Mrs. Djan went to her desk and sat down.


    "No wait, get back up." Reese told her. She produced a mini-Uzi from her desk drawer. It was folded up into a little blue case, but she then showed the hidden automatic. It had a little clip in it with fifteen bullets. Reese''s eyes widened in horror.


    Mrs. Djan was one of them! One of the spooks that had chased him here!


    She started shooting and shot the first burst of five bullets entirely into Harris. Two shots went clean through him and hit Reese. Harris fell over dead.


    "Sorry Reese." Mrs. Djan climbed up onto her desk. Her tight cyan office skirt was not a bad last thing to see. She shot up Reese with the next burst, aiming for his feet.


    "Damn that hurts!" he proclaimed.


    "Give me that!" Mrs. Djan went to go disarm him. Suddenly the outer door opened, and two more security guards came into the room. They had the misfortune of startling Mrs. Djan, and she emptied the clip, killing them both.


    Then Yoshito opened his door.


    The zip gun made one last gunshot after all the Uzi-fire. It hit Yoshito alongside his head.


    He found himself in the place where he kept his pearls. There they were his thirty-nine most precious memories, as polished and perfect as their age and value to him. Then there were only thirty, broken pieces shattered and forgotten. He watched it happening in horror.


    He was trapped in this place. He went and reached for one of the rarest memories and his touch shattered that one as well. In horror he recoiled. He could only stand and stare at them.


    Time seemed endless as he looked. He counted them. Now only twenty-nine. As he stared, he heard one that he had neglected to look at shatter as well. Then another and another the same way.


    He stared at the memory pearls even more intensely until they started to crack from getting stared at too hard. One of the very good memories broke.


    Yoshito shouted in frustrated defiance and his voice shattered several more. He fell silent and the silence drowned another, and it broke as well.


    His eyes opened from the three-year long coma. Yoshito had a very long road ahead of him. Eventually he returned to the science of neural surgery, but it was as the trembling hands of tea-pouring. Nobody believed he was still able to do the surgery.


    In fact, he was making even more money and funding his own private research. This went on for a long time. Now, he was into weapons. He didn''t work with human subjects, but rather the insects and reptiles and dogs that he brought in throughout his work.


    All of it seized and destroyed by the government of Yoshito''s homeland. Yoshito driven further into exile. Reese was safe behind bars in that country.


    Money will buy anything. One day two guards used a needle on him, given to them by Yoshito. He presented himself later, outside the prison waiting. A drug that soon would put Reese into a kind of special ''memory coma'' and ''in a dog''s body for laughs'' Yoshito was saying.


    "You are a monster." Reese told him. Reese felt momentarily oriented to see a massive mural showing the evolution of Dogs, Chameleons and Fireflies backwards through bone fossils. He found it to be incredibly tacky.


    "Well, I would say that ''monsters destroy their creators'' to you because you shot me and I spent three years in a coma developing isolated amnesia, changing me into a very cold and ruthless supervillain-like person." Yoshito chuckled kinda crazily.


    "You would say that?"


    "I mean to say I am actually going to make you into a monster. I solved your problem with the scary soldiers you worked on. Solved it with you being the prototype, that is." Yoshito started wheeling his patient into the operating room personally.


    Soon they were in the operating room.


    "So, what do you say then?" Reese was still drugged.


    "I say: let''s just make a long story short: I am going to put your brain in the body of one of the special dogs. Well, your conscious mind anyway, surgically implanted into its mind." Yoshito grinned as he spoke.


    "In English?" Reese asked, smiling.


    "You will wake up as a puppy dog nobody wants with no memory how you got that way. Then I am going to sell you as a weapon." Yoshito explained. Yoshito''s eyes twinkled with evil merriment.


    "I will be a puppy?"


    "Yes. A real puppy."

 Terror Of The Invisible Dog

    Jamal Aharish was technically an American, but his tenant, Aljiran, was not. Together, they were bringing home the dogs of war, or more accurately, the Americans'' own American war dogs.


    The puppies had smooth, hairless skin that possessed a slightly oily sheen. These were not your typical canines; they were the offspring of a breed that existed solely in nightmares. They cast shadows during the day, left footprints in the sand, yet remained elusive to the human eye. These creatures hailed from a sinister realm, where the latest and most lethal weapons originated, only to be left behind on the battlefield. Now, they had come home. For those unaware of the truth, it was an enigma¡ªa challenge to differentiate reality from illusion. Seeing wasn''t believing; believing was seeing.


    "Is there one left?" Jamal asked Aljiran, his gaze fixed on the teeth lurking within the shadows beyond the backyard shed''s window.


    "It killed and devoured the others. Not due to lack of nourishment. Just because," Aljiran responded, his English flawless, his beard impeccable.


    "Dhaer," Jamal christened the beast. "I''ll call him Dhaer."


    "La min hunalik." Aljiran whispered, his voice barely audible.


    "Why fear it? We are its masters now," Jamal replied, a frown creasing his face. Aljiran observed Jamal''s mouth for signs of vulnerability. No beard¡ªhow disgraceful.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Lower your voice. His hearing is acute. The others, they made too much noise, I think."


    "He''ll only target the Americans. They can''t shoot what they can''t see, nor fight what they don''t believe in. At last, victory shall be ours," Jamal declared.


    "Dhaer is but one creature. There are countless Americans," Aljiran glanced at the neighbor next door, who was watering his lawn, offering a polite wave to the American neighbor.


    "It''s the fear that will defeat them. They''ll barricade themselves in their mansions and wither away from hunger. It''s God''s will," Jamal boomed.


    "Speak more softly. I don''t mind if someone hears you, but Dhaer becomes agitated by loud sounds, your clamor," Aljiran cautioned his companion.


    Growls and restlessness emanated from the shed. Dhaer was undeniably agitated. The frenzied amalgamation of fangs and shadows relentlessly attacked the shed''s door. Though it was a shoddy prefab structure, the door stubbornly resisted, bending without breaking¡ªuntil now.


    Both men circled around to peer into the shed''s obscurity.


    "It''s escaped," Aljiran''s voice trembled, a whisper filled with dread.


    "Then we must assert our mastery," Jamal proclaimed, his voice defiant.


    Dhaer''s teeth flashed, sinking deep into Jamal''s hip. As Jamal collapsed, his screams morphed into silence, but Dhaer''s teeth continued their brutal assault. Fragments of Jamal were torn away until the movement ceased.


    The neighbor had dialed the police.


    Aljiran had fled into his house, sliding the glass door shut. Dhaer made a single attempt to breach the translucent barrier, revealing its blood-soaked form. It was now grotesque and misshapen, more frightening visible than when concealed.


    Blood smears stained the glass. Aljiran sighed in relief; the transparent shield remained unbroken. Surveying the backyard, he realized Dhaer was gone¡ªvanished.


    Darkness in broad daylight.


    A terror-incarnate.


    Unleashed.

 Day Of The Invisible Dog

    The ordinary, almost tedious moment when a clown playfully tugged an imaginary leash at a birthday party was suddenly shattered. A growl, uncannily dog-like, seized the wire and yanked the clown by his outsized feet. The wire led to a harness, an intricate system of wires and mechanisms that facilitated the clown''s tricks, designed not to be employed so roughly.


    From the clown''s sliced-open arm, blood spurted. A wedge of flesh dangled, severed like a slab of meat. The wire snapped, ending the turmoil mercifully. The clown slumped unconscious, heart rate slowing, his mangled arm hanging into the ice-filled hollow of an upturned punchbowl. Within the mix of blood and spilled Tropical Punch, cake crumbs, and lingering glitter from an earlier art project, an eerie figure emerged. Resembling a dog but grotesquely bulbous, it boasted wiry tufts sprouting like a punk rocker''s mohawk. As it shook, some of its litter dislodged, rendering it invisible again.


    However, its teeth remained starkly visible as it darted through the startled children, clutching the wire leash it had claimed from the incapacitated clown.


    A man emerged from the house, armed with both a gun and a smartphone. By then, several mothers at the party had already armed themselves, so his response was belated.


    Soon, the chorus of children''s cries filled the air, joined by the wail of sirens from police cars and an ambulance.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    By the time the invisible dog had vanished, it had reached a park and located a drain where a woman had accidentally dropped her keys. Sniffing around, the keychain remained within reach.


    As a passing car played opera music, the invisible dog stood exposed, its teeth and wire leash discernible.


    Invisible paws worked diligently, bending the wire into a makeshift hook while chewing it into a gnarly, crude shape. After a while, a tooth snapped, causing the dog to whine in frustration and agony. Using the rudimentary tool, he fished out the keys.


    Hours were invested in crafting this essential tool, and a tooth was sacrificed in the process. At last, the keychain was in his possession. With clumsy attempts, he managed to unlock the vehicle, setting off and subsequently silencing the alarm. The noise failed to amuse him.


    His stomach gnawed with hunger, and the realization loomed that his canine instincts would soon dominate, making it harder, as always, to regain control.


    Entering the vehicle, he spotted the open briefcase with its contents scattered. By biting and dragging, he retrieved the files, clumsily maneuvering the papers and folders with his paw and mouth, spreading them across the interior. Squinting and struggling to focus his eyes and mental faculties, he tried to decipher the text.


    A dog''s bark rang out, another dog and a woman appearing on the scene. The exchange of barks commenced, and he was the dog once again.


    Memories surfaced from a distant part of his mind, recounting his origins and the peculiar circumstances that had led him to inhabit the body of an invisible puppy.

 Tail Of The Invisible Dog

    "Clear those reporters out!" Detective Mj?lby ordered the police officers who were setting up police tape. The city park had turned into a chaotic scene.


    A swarm of television news vans had descended, cameras capturing every angle. What made matters worse was the presence of freelance bloggers armed with drones, broadcasting the unfolding events in real-time.


    "I wish I could shoot those drones down," Detective Mj?lby muttered, his frustration palpable. The situation was straightforward:


    A landlord brutally torn apart by his tenant, though witnesses claimed the assailant had vanished into the property during the assault. Some speculated about an invisible dog being responsible. Remnants of dogs, along with evidence of a makeshift dog kennel, were discovered on the premises, hinting at the possibility of a trained dog attack. However, a neighbor had seen no dog, and the tenant remained tight-lipped.


    The following morning, an FBI agent named Clayman fell victim to a savage attack while smoking by her vehicle in the same park. This was the very spot where another woman''s body, along with her dog, was discovered the next morning. Yet, human involvement was suggested, given that the culprits had returned to the crime scene. Clayman''s attacker had broken into her car unnoticed by a nearby officer, subsequently attacking and killing a female jogger and her German Shepherd.


    The officer had heard the car alarm - and then it went off. Then the sound of barking - that was cut short and the brief shriek of a whistle, but the officer failed to intervene. An odd detail: the attacker chewed up the metal ''rape whistle''.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Earlier that same day, a clown slashed his wrist in front of children at a birthday party, only to be taken to the hospital and stabilized. He was in a psychiatric ward and his doctors were delaying the interview with police. Rumors circulated about an incredibly realistic portrayal of an invisible dog attack. Almost too realistic to be staged.


    Now, a fourth victim¡ªthe body count was growing. Forensic analysis suggested the marks resembled those of a dog attack or a highly trained attack dog. However, peculiar clues emerged, including a wire tool, a broken dog tooth, and the investigation of Clayman''s vehicle where dog hairs and paw prints were found inside. Oddly, the break-in of the FBI vehicle occurred in front of a patrol car''s camera, which recorded nothing substantial. Neither the dog nor the assailant appeared on camera, somehow avoiding detection. The opening of the vehicle door had slipped past the officer on guard, a vigilance per Detective Mj?lby''s instructions.


    Detective Mj?lby was certain that, regardless of the method, human hands were orchestrating these murders using an attack dog. He needed to decipher the pattern of these animal-like assaults. There was something more to this grim puzzle.


    Each passing day brought more attacks, and the pattern seemed to become both clearer and more elusive. Detective Mj?lby accumulated a growing list of victims, with a forensics lab and a workspace resembling a somber, interconnected network of chambers. Within these chambers of darkness, he paced, pondering the terror that was unfolding. The death toll mounted relentlessly. Was there no way to halt this unseen menace?


    "I don''t believe in you," Detective Mj?lby stated, eyeing the composite sketch of the invisible dog. It was a figment of imagination, a boogeyman. Beneath the notion of this monstrous phantom lay a human being, a human mind¡ªthe true wellspring of the murders. This was no mere work of a typical animal.


    Alone in the shadows of his study on this malevolence, Detective Mj?lby deliberated.


    An invisible dog? Impossible...

 Shadows Of The Invisible Dog

    Eyes welled with tears, reflecting the terror and desperation of a woman who had survived the animal attack.


    "All through the night." she sniffled, her voice quivering amidst her tears.


    Detective Mj?lby pondered another inconsistency in her account, asking, "How did you realize it had departed if you never actually saw it?" Her story remained enigmatic, a puzzle with missing pieces.


    She simply sobbed, unable to provide any further insight. Detective Mj?lby left Mrs. Pearson alone at his desk, stepping outside for a breath of air.


    The evening settled into tranquil quietness, with the sun''s warm embrace as it dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows. Stagnant air mingled with lingering morning mist, still lingering in swampy pockets. Frogs serenaded the scene, their chirps punctuating the calm.


    Upon his return to the lab, Detective Mj?lby listened to Mark and Earl. They exchanged words, their similar voices alternating between the roles of the smartass and the dumbass. As they chatted about the chilling topic while munching on sandwiches, Mark paused to light a cigarette, seemingly oblivious to the detective''s presence.


    Clearing his throat, Detective Mj?lby made his presence known, the act marked by his characteristic toothpick. More chewing, more face-touching followed, the detective bracing himself for the inevitable onslaught of information¡ªpertinent or not.


    "Well if they do have a lab with Ebola, somebody somewhere is eventually living next door to it, relatively speaking, of course," Mark interjected, referencing an earlier part of their conversation.


    "For nerdom." Detective Mj?lby mused, raising a shot he had poured from Mark''s desk and downing it before resuming his role as an active listener.


    "My notes?" Mark inquired from beneath his bottle, his attention shifting to Detective Mj?lby''s unspoken thoughts.


    "Man''s best friend." Earl offered, prompting an image of a dog. "The hair of the dog that bit you?"


    "It is a dog. That much is clear. What else?" Detective Mj?lby sighed, feeling the frustration in his voice.


    "This is the authentic account of the invisible dog''s actual events in 2018. Everything in this story is real¡ªpeople, places, all of it. Invisible dogs are real." Mark explained, displaying images ranging from flowers and insects to strands of DNA. Detective Mj?lby smirked at the man''s flair for the dramatic with his PowerPoint presentations.


    "The," Earl interjected, frowning as he pointed at the screen, then he elaborated, "Daphavirus." He proceeded to shed light on the South American virus, once exclusive to a specific firefly species, now genetically altered to affect reptiles, including a chameleon rendered invisible.


    "Who did this?" Detective Mj?lby questioned, his stance firm.


    "Who do you think?" Mark retorted, a touch of exasperation in his voice.


    "The military-industrial complex¡ªbehind this creation, this monstrosity. It''s a conspiracy." Earl chimed in, embracing the theme of intrigue.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "I''ve got real detective work to do here. People are dying, and patterns are emerging. There''s motive, a human motive. How can I ignore a pattern? I need to follow it, predict and put an end to this." Detective Mj?lby informed his slightly eccentric lab cohorts.


    "Sorry, boss. What do you want us to tell you then?" Mark spoke, a mouthful of food muffling his words.


    "If all these victims'' lives intersect at some point, where is the convergence? What''s the connection?" Detective Mj?lby inquired, gesturing to the place where the victims'' remains were kept.


    Back at Mrs. Pearson''s residence, she cradled her cat, Lucy Fur, who had spent the night in a tree. With dawn''s arrival, the coast was finally clear, prompting Lucy Fur''s descent from her arboreal perch. Retrieving her cat from the lawn, Mrs. Pearson picked up her phone from where is had lain in the grass and then went indoors, dialing the police and then her husband who was in Las Vegas. She attempted to recount her ordeal to him.


    The police had more questions than Mr. Pearson did.


    Returning home, after the police detective had left her sitting at his desk, Mrs. Pearson resolved to add ''have an affair'' to her bucket list, preferably with a young divorced cop, igniting a spark in his world until his strength waned. Her life had been one of impeccable virtue, but now, driven by newfound resolve, she intended to venture into the unknown. It served as a distraction from the haunting memory of her recent ordeal, as she sat alone, apprehensive of the world outside.


    "Freaking monsters are real," she swore, the word ''freaking'' not fully masking her frustration. Her husband''s laughter still echoed over the phone, his tone light as he enjoyed his Vegas business trip.


    In contrast: the police took her seriously. One officer had even offered a comforting embrace as she wept.


    Then, she heard her cat outside, but this time, it wasn''t a tree that offered refuge¡ªit was a dog. A substantial dog at that. She dialed the number on the homicide detective''s card.


    "How did she end up out there again? Darn pussycat," Mrs. Pearson muttered, her accent adding a touch of uniqueness to her words. As she dialed, she said, "I might just let the dog have my darn pussy this time."


    "Brightside Police Department, Officer Kelly speaking. How can I assist you?" the young police officer inquired promptly.


    "I''m trying to reach Detective Mj?lby, but the extension kept ringing," Mrs. Pearson explained.


    "Uh, Mrs. Pearson?" Officer Kelly guessed.


    "Yes, that''s right." she confirmed. Mrs. Pearson thought to herself about how Officer Kelly was about to get an unexpected opportunity. Watching Lucy Fur in the tree and twisting off her wedding ring, she made a decision.


    "He''s currently unavailable." Officer Kelly replied.


    "Could you come over, right now? It''s an emergency. I need someone familiar with my case urgently. I''m sure Detective Mj?lby would authorize you." she insisted, her tone wavering on the edge of desperation.


    "Let me call him first." Officer Kelly offered, dialing Detective Mj?lby''s number. After a brief conversation, he received authorization to assist Mrs. Pearson.


    When he arrived, Officer Kelly remained in his car, opting to call a dogcatcher instead. However, the dogcatcher took longer than expected to arrive. Eventually, the dogcatcher appeared on the scene.


    During this time, Mrs. Pearson''s gaze shifted to a television repair van, complete with antennas, that seemed to be keeping an eye on her home. Initially focused on Officer Kelly, she noticed the van''s unrelenting presence.


    With her cat finally out of the tree and the dogcatcher dealing with the collie, Officer Kelly prepared to leave, not even stepping out of his car. At that moment, Mrs. Pearson turned her attention to her bucket list on the fridge, adding the letter ''A'' in red marker¡ªan addition for another time.


    She noticed the van being replaced by another one with the label ''PC repair'' sporting a similar appearance. A growing sense of unease enveloped her.


    Amidst the turmoil, it felt as if shadowy figures akin to men in black were surveilling her home¡ªnothing overt, just a subtle watchfulness. Mrs. Pearson unleashed her frustrations. sleep deprivation and the anger she felt - converted from her fears and a feeling of helplessness.


    "There''s nothing to see! You can''t see it!" she yelled, chasing after them, hurling a rock that shattered a taillight.


    Abruptly, the van started and drove away.

 Secrets Of The Invisible Dog

    Within the utility van sat three secret agents, newly assigned to the case of the invisible dog, stepping in to fill the roles of those who had lost their lives chasing the enigmatic and deadly trail. With the files secured from the abandoned vehicle left by their fallen predecessors, they huddled for a briefing, their initial task: reclaim the van. Did the elusive canine lurk nearby, shrouded by darkness?


    Remarkably, the woman''s name was Eos Van Helsing. Mike found it hard to believe.


    "Agent Van Helsing, we''ve taken charge of this case. The number of agents we''re replacing is quite significant," Mike informed the exceptionally youthful female agent.


    Eos possessed a dark complexion and radiant eyes, a striking figure crowned with white hair. Having faced ghosts before, she embodied Mike''s request for a partner skilled in the eerie and unusual. He acknowledged his own biases, tainted by a mix of sexism and racism, yet sensed Eos sizing him up in turn.


    "You chose me for my spookiness." she remarked softly, her voice petite but capable of unleashing glass-shattering screams at the firing range. The origin of her ghostly experiences lay in her remarkable sharpshooting skills.


    "I selected you not because you''re inexperienced." Mike began.


    "And?" Eos prompted.


    "You lack the physical intimidation of height, gender, or even voice." Mike continued, at Eos''s behest.


    "And?" Eos persisted.


    "You''re a fool." Mike declared, an unsparing assessment.


    Eos chuckled in response.


    "I''m the brains of our operation." she asserted. "Our success and survival hinge on my intellect. You''re our muscle¡ªthe task''s brawn. I''m the master, and you''re my subordinate. Sit down, boy."


    Mike knelt, aligning himself with her gaze, prompting her to deliver a stinging slap that left his head numbed and his senses bewitched. The experience rendered him momentarily speechless.


    "Outstanding, Agent Van Helsing." applauded Agent Caprice, who occupied the passenger seat of the reacquired faux utility van. This marked their debut mission in the invisible dog investigation, following the loss of no less than four agents.


    The replacements now included a trio with peculiar backgrounds¡ªa sharpshooter, a seasoned homicide detective, and a philosopher-chemist-turned-actor.


    "Do we need to go through all this?" Agent Van Helsing inquired about the files.


    "Don''t try to pull a fast one on me; it won''t work." responded Agent Caprice, his laughter reminiscent of an Oz scarecrow. "Plus, I''m already fond of you."


    "Ah, yes, because I''m a mary-sue." Agent Van Helsing quipped, her eyes rolling with exasperation.


    "I like you, too." Mike muttered as he delved into one of the folders. This particular one contained military documents heavily redacted with black permanent marker.


    "No one asked for your input." Eos playfully winked at Mike, her quiet yet commanding tone maintaining its hold over him.


    "Bravo, Agent Van Helsing." praised Agent Caprice, his attention still fixed on his teeth-picking.


    "What warrants this approval?" Agent Van Helsing inquired, switching to her more professional demeanor.


    "Your majestic aura." Agent Caprice chimed in with a chuckle, inadvertently alluding to a royal title, sparking amusement given her newfound leadership.


    "He''s governed by fear." Eos revealed to Agent Caprice, who could only grimace at this disclosure, having long forgotten how to experience fear.


    "This file." Mike handed a folder to Eos. He ignored the comment about being governed by fear.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Opening it, she began to read. "Play track ''109'' for me." she requested of Mike, her tone teetering between query and command.


    A voice on the phone reported, "There''s another call from the Pearson residence¡ªher cat''s stuck in a tree, again. This marks the fourth call we''ve had of an unseen animal, right?" The voice belonged to a dog pound catcher, communicating with his superior in Brightside.


    Back at Mrs. Pearson''s home, she had endured a night with her phone and the invisible dog in her yard; her terrified cat perched in a tree. As she survived through a mixture of luck, wit, and terrified patience, Mrs. Pearson knew she''d earned her survival. But perhaps she hadn''t. Her sin? Allowing the dog to use her phone, an unreported detail among the chaos.


    The dog had used the phone on the lawn, but to achieve what? Somehow, through the touchscreen, the dog had used an app to locate the address of a man named Yoshito, where he had recently bought a home.


    An incongruity lurked in the shadows, an element not yet aligning with the puzzle.


    Eos sighed, sipping her coffee.


    "Who''s responsible for this stench?" Agent Caprice inquired, lowering a window to alleviate the smell.


    "The dog''s up to something," Mike deduced, stating the obvious.


    "Did you let one rip?" Agent Caprice leveled a suspicious gaze at Mike.


    "Stay focused," Agent Van Helsing intervened.


    "Wait, that was you?" Agent Caprice redirected his accusation toward Eos, humorously resembling a witch hunt.


    "You''re the flatulence instigator. Cut it out," Mike reverted to his usual self for a moment.


    Agent Caprice admitted to the accusation with a knock, a moment of comic relief amidst their intensive investigation.


    Returning to their task, they delved deeper into the riddle of the dog''s actions on the lawn several nights ago.


    As they continued their investigation, the night began to envelop the surroundings, casting an eerie shadow over their endeavors. The team meticulously examined the details, piecing together fragments of the puzzle left behind by the invisible dog.


    Agent Van Helsing meticulously combed through the folder Mike had handed her, her sharp eyes tracing over the redacted military documents. She muttered to herself, attempting to decipher the obscured text, and occasionally requested specific tracks to be played from the accompanying audio files. Mike, sitting beside her, intermittently provided commentary or insights as they delved into the cryptic contents.


    Agent Caprice reclined in his seat, apparently lost in his own world. He had begun dismantling a pen, spinning its components between his fingers with a practiced ease. Occasionally, he''d offer a quip or humorous remark, punctuating the tense atmosphere with moments of levity.


    Mike, focused on the data spread across his lap, periodically shook his head in disbelief. The complexities of the case seemed to challenge his expectations, forcing him to confront his own limitations. Nevertheless, he remained engaged, determined to unearth the truth that lay beneath the surface.


    As the night grew deeper, Agent Van Helsing''s fingers danced over the pages, forming connections and unveiling patterns. The distinctive sounds of pages turning, electronic beeps, and her occasional exclamation filled the van. It was a symphony of investigation, the agents working together to illuminate the hidden corners of the mystery they were entangled in.


    In the distance, the moon cast its ethereal glow over the landscape, lending an otherworldly ambiance to the scene. Despite the weight of the investigation, there was an air of camaraderie within the van, a sense of purpose that bound the team together.


    "Found something interesting?" Mike leaned over to inquire; his voice hushed yet expectant.


    Eos glanced up, her eyes locking onto Mike''s. "There''s a pattern here," she stated, her tone a mix of excitement and determination. "These redactions... they''re not just concealing information. They''re guiding us."


    "How so?" Mike leaned closer, intrigued by her revelation.


    "These blacked-out sections aren''t random," Eos explained. "They seem to form a sequence¡ªa pattern that becomes apparent when you analyze the spacing, the length of the redactions, and their placement."


    Mike studied the documents anew, his brow furrowing as he began to perceive the intricate design Eos was describing. "You think they''re leading us to something?"


    Eos nodded. "It''s like a trail of breadcrumbs, guiding us towards a hidden message or revelation."


    Agent Caprice chimed in, setting his pen components aside. "So, the very documents meant to obscure information are unwittingly pointing us towards the truth?"


    "Exactly," Eos affirmed, her enthusiasm infectious. "Whoever redacted these documents did it with a purpose. They knew someone would eventually try to uncover the hidden layers."


    Mike flipped through his notes, his skepticism evident. "And what if this is all just a wild goose chase? A clever manipulation to lead us astray?"


    Eos considered his point before responding. "It''s a risk, certainly. But we''ve hit a dead end with conventional methods. This pattern might be our only way forward."


    Mike leaned back in his seat, taking in the gravity of the situation. "So, we follow the pattern, decipher the message, and potentially uncover the dog''s motives or its origin."


    Eos nodded, a determined glint in her eyes. "It''s a long shot, but it''s all we have right now."


    As the team refocused their efforts on deciphering the redacted patterns, the van''s interior became a hub of focused energy. Outside, the night wore on, the world cloaked in darkness and mystery. The agents, united by a shared pursuit of truth, continued to unravel the enigma of the invisible dog, propelled by the hope that these concealed patterns would illuminate the path ahead.

 Sanctuary Of The Invisible Dog

    The dog was devouring the remains of another dog named Rover when he suddenly choked on the tag of Rover''s collar. Struggling, he regurgitated the partially chewed gray dog meat. Just then, a disheveled and agitated drifter, whose own dog was half-devoured by an unseen creature, approached.


    "I see you, man," the drifter addressed the invisible dog, his gaze locked onto the outline of the beast in the mist, highlighted by the dripping blood.


    For a fleeting moment, the creature''s eyes glinted in the mist, revealing its fangs stained with blood. The massive horror''s silhouette materialized ¨C a dog. A colossal, invisible monster, ethereal in the midst of the fog.


    Panicked, the drifter dropped his staff and fled. Barking, the animal pursued him. As the drifter was killed, he spoke of his treasure, a hidden cache of pearls.


    Yes, that grim event had unfolded ¨C the conversation followed by the drifter''s demise. Once again, the dog had succumbed to its primal instincts, consuming human flesh this time. During its slumber, it was somewhat easier to grapple with the human consciousness within. Yet, the struggle against its inner monster, the killer dog, the invisible murderer, grew ever more challenging.


    Later that afternoon, the invisible dog reverted to its human form and retraced its steps, ending up beneath a bridge. The crimson hues of the evening sky created an eerie and dreamlike atmosphere amidst the persistent fog. The mist lingered for days on end, and the air during low tide was suffocatingly thick. Such was the nature of this peculiar environment.


    Curiously, the invisible dog found solace in it.


    The shelter was a makeshift cardboard box. Nearby, a K-9 stood by while its handler was setting fire to the cardboard fortress.


    Rosie, the K-9, whimpered, sensing the presence of the other being.


    "What''s troubling you, girl? What do you sense, Rosie?" the K-9 handler inquired.


    With caution, the handler and his dog approached the invisible dog. Rosie''s apprehension was palpable ¨C she recognized the danger posed by this massive, formidable creature driven by a violent urge.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Weapon drawn and at the ready, the officer warned the unseen entity of his armed status.


    Suddenly, a movement caught his attention ¨C something darted into the flames!


    Startled, the officer lowered his weapon, uncertain about his target. Rosie, too, whimpered in confusion.


    Amid the charred remnants, the invisible dog retrieved a tin containing the pearls, a drug called Mirage Capsules. The drifter had revealed his knowledge of a significant secret to the dog before meeting his demise. Among his revelations was the existence of a stash of precious pearls ¨C an addictive substance that offered a taste of freedom to the desperate dog-turned-man.


    As something immense and terrifying emerged from the burning remains of the cardboard fortress, the officer raised his weapon, took off the safety, and tightened his grip on the trigger.


    In a shower of burning cardboard debris, the K-9 unit suffered injuries. Rosie''s burns were severe, rendering her unfit for duty. The officer''s badge and gun were confiscated after he emptied his entire clip into the inferno. Consequently, he found himself serving six months in jail for arson and was placed on probation.


    Meanwhile, the invisible dog ventured into the park under the cover of darkness to obtain Mirage Capsules. There, he encountered a blind man, radiating profound sadness after losing his seeing-eye dog to old age. This old man, dressed in dark attire and exuding a sense of cleanliness and dignity, provided companionship in the dark stillness of the night. The invisible dog formed an unlikely friendship with him.


    Night after night, they returned to the same spot in the park, where the invisible dog would uncover Mirage Capsules. Gradually, the blind man realized the dog''s routine and began sharing the precious capsules with him, along with food.


    Thus, the man within the dog found a loyal companion. Seated together by the fire, they each contemplated the burdens of their existence. The man, buoyed by friendship, found solace in his newfound bond and shifted his focus to caring for the dog. As time went on, the dog was granted moments of rest, and the man pondered matters that transcended his own tribulations.


    One day, quite unexpectedly, the man remembered his name. The blind man, offering a name from a Braille book, reached the name "Reese," which caused the invisible dog to pause. Was that his name?


    "Doctor Reese, Room 106, Code Green, Doctor Reese." a phantom voice echoed through fragments of memory within the dog''s mind.


    On another day, the invisible dog noticed the dwindling supply of Mirage Capsules had reached the end. Fearing his return to violence, he recognized the risk posed to his friend. To safeguard him, he knew he must leave and travel far away. This heart-wrenching decision led the invisible dog to part ways with the man who had become his closest confidant and savior.

 Echoes Of The Invisible Dog

    Hammer Karina possessed a name that sparked amusement, yet her demeanor lacked any hint of comedic sensibility. Instead, her humor leaned towards the sardonic, steeped in irony and a poetic understanding of life''s intricacies. She found delight in unexpected coincidences and serendipitous moments, but her pragmatism ruled out belief in miracles or destiny.


    Occupying a houseboat, Hammer Karina shared her life with a rescued elderly pug and fulfilled her role as a social worker in an office. As of now, her existence had yet to intersect with the enigmatic entity known as the invisible dog.


    To entwine one''s fate with the unfolding events surrounding the activities of the invisible dog was to court disaster. Numerous lives had met gruesome ends, leaving survivors scarred by both physical and emotional trauma. The repercussions, like tendrils of malevolent mist, expanded ominously, shapeless yet carrying dire consequences. It seemed that mere contact with the creature or its traces was enough to ensnare individuals in an ever-expanding web of tragedy. Some might label this a series of unfortunate events, others, ''bad luck''.


    Hammer Karina was no stranger to misfortune. Her life bore witness to her alignment with rules and conventions, often forsaking a deeper calling to aid her fellow humans. Her heart had grown calloused through numerous instances, causing her to ignore the cries of a child on the side of the road ¨C a child who had fallen from her bicycle while fleeing an invisible dog.


    This young girl, overwhelmed by the terror of an unseen monstrosity, had crashed her bike, leaving her with a scraped and bleeding knee. Though injured, she would survive, and for now, she sat alone beside her wrecked bicycle, tears streaming down her cheeks.


    The invisible dog drew closer, poised for a sinister outcome, when a speeding car intervened, forcing the creature to retreat across the street to evade the relentless vehicle. In its fury, the beast abandoned its pursuit of the child and instead charged after the escaping car.


    As Hammer Karina ascended the gangway to her houseboat, the invisible dog finally caught up with her. The sound of panting reverberated behind her, prompting her to whirl around, producing a firearm from her purse. She swiftly loaded a magazine clip into her .38 Special and aimed it at the approaching danger.


    She glimpsed the creature''s gleaming eyes, its bared teeth, and imposing size ¨C characteristics that made it hard to overlook on the gangway. Her weapon, tailored for close-quarters combat, was of little use at such a distance. The bullets fragmented against the railings, save for one that grazed the invisible dog, revealing its presence in a fleeting burst of blood.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Undaunted, Hammer Karina hurled the now-empty gun at the creature, striking it on the snout. However, the weapon''s depleted ammunition rendered it almost weightless, dealing minimal damage. The very ammunition that outweighed the gun itself was crafted for maximum stopping power and minimal recoil, tailored for personal defense. Had she fired those same shots just moments later, as the invisible dog drew near, the results would have been fatal. But fate unfolded differently.


    In a swift and brutal attack, the vicious dog ran up the gangplank and then tore into her, ending her life. It then proceeded to devour her pug.


    Later, drawn by the sound of gunshots, a security guard arrived at the scene, accompanied by his own dog. Both were ill-equipped to face the ambush set by the invisible dog.


    The man''s dog launched an attack, attempting to grasp the invisible dog''s throat, but the creature''s might overwhelmed the smaller dog. The invisible dog released its grip, sending the brave companion over the railing, plummeting to the jagged rocks below. The poor animal lay grievously injured, fighting for its life.


    The cruelty of the invisible dog escalated further as it turned its ferocity towards the security guard. Following the onslaught, the guard lay alive yet severely shocked, his entrails torn and stretched across a distance, a grotesque tableau of suffering.


    In the midst of this turmoil, the creature sensed the conflicted consciousness within, struggling to regain control and revert to human behavior. It was akin to a monster fearing its own humanity, a humanity that regarded it as an enemy.


    Engulfed in internal turmoil, the creature raced past the man destined to discover the gruesome scene. The man sported a t-shirt emblazoned with the words, ''henchmen lives matter''.


    Leaving behind an aura of dread and wet-dog odor, its padded steps and claw clicks resonating like rustling leaves, the creature dripped blood as it darted away. The scent of horror lingered, accompanied by its fearsome presence. As the invisible dog continued on its path, it unintentionally left behind drops of blood, a gruesome trail.


    The man''s day culminated in a profoundly haunting moment as he encountered the disemboweled body of the security guard. Gasping in horror, the man with the inappropriate t-shirt stumbled upon the scene.


    As the first responder arrived, the security guard''s life clung by a thread. He spoke, his words laden with madness, addressing the man who had crossed paths with the invisible dog.


    "Dog took dog, eats dog. Eats us. Eats us to death." he uttered, his eyes reflecting unspeakable horror before succumbing to his injuries.


    Thus, the cycle of brutality perpetuated by the invisible dog continued, leaving behind a wake of terror and despair.

 Fear Of The Invisible Dog

    Ambrose clutched his wounded shoulder, applying as much pressure as he could muster. The graze wound inflicted by the bullets of the men-in-black continued to bleed. He knew he needed stitches.


    Sipping from a bottle of vodka, he gazed back at the site of Brightside, which now stood engulfed in flames and smoke. The facility was reduced to ruins.


    "Drinking will thin your blood. It won''t help stop the bleeding." Carrion cautioned his boss.


    "Shut the hell up and drive." Ambrose retorted, his tone dripping with hostility.


    In the back of the truck, the dogs were barking incessantly. Among them were fighting dogs ¨C they could rebuild elsewhere. Ambrose still clung to the bowling bag containing nearly a million dollars in cash and his desert eagle. Armed and prepared, he contrasted starkly with his last remaining henchman, who was unarmed. Ambrose was now haunted by his own paranoia. His empire had crumbled, and the power vacuum left anyone capable of seizing control.


    The dogs'' agitation grew, sparking a commotion in the back of the truck.


    Yet, this wasn''t their immediate concern. Despite being small-town police, the Brightside Police Department had managed to assemble an elite force through a series of coincidental recruitments. Their vehicles formed an interlocked barrier fortified with police strips.


    "Does that cop have a damn bazooka? Stop the van, stop!" Ambrose urgently directed Carrion.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Carrion decelerated and struggled to maneuver the van. Ambrose handed him the desert eagle. "Take the gun." he commanded.


    "Absolutely not." Carrion hissed. In the ensuing chaos, a single sniper shot found its mark, obliterating Carrion''s head as he failed to stop in time.


    Ambrose surrendered.


    He was brought back to the Brightside police station, the location of his apprehension. Animal control officers were summoned to handle the fighting dogs. As the truck''s rear compartment was opened, an immense and unseen force surged forth, shoving aside the assembled officers. The creature vanished into the ether.


    Within the truck, lifeless bodies filled the cages ¨C a grim testament to the invisible dog''s merciless rampage. One cage remained empty, its padlock unfastened and hanging from the closing bar. How and why had this cage been opened?


    "You claimed there was an invisible dog, and now it''s gone." the police officer remarked, echoing Ambrose''s own words. Disbelief lingered, but the reality was undeniable.


    "We used to feed stray dogs behind the restaurant, tossing them garbage. That''s where we got most of our dogs, not the top fighters ¨C sometimes we''d use feral dogs." Ambrose confessed. The painkillers had loosened his tongue, and words flowed freely.


    "Chef Saladin is dead." the officers informed him.


    "Killed by dogs?" Ambrose inquired.


    "No, just one dog ¨C you know which one." came the reply.


    Trembling with fear, Ambrose vomited. The invisible dog had turned against its captor.


    Would he be its next victim? The growls echoed in the shadows, the image of the vengeful hellhound''s teeth looming in his mind. It could strike from anywhere, at any time. He would have no warning until its jaws closed around his throat.


    Ambrose retched again.


    "There''s this dog ¨C it phases through walls, and it''s invisible. A specter of all the dogs from our operations." he muttered, his words tinged with terror.


    Then, staring at the puddle of vomit before him, Ambrose leaned forward and, in a grotesque gesture, extended his tongue to lick it up.

 Howl Of The Invisible Dog

    Farmer Jerichson had spent countless days yearning for the embrace of death, his life overshadowed by relentless arthritis. Despite his suffering, he adamantly rejected any form of pain relief. However, on the night he met his end, he fought with an unexpected vigor to cling to life.


    The Brightside Farmer''s Market offered more than just baskets and honey sticks. Among its wares, Mirage Capsules were up for sale, dispensed by a grizzled cop who had recently liberated them from the evidence room. Although the prescription drug was addictive, its lack of euphoria meant it wasn''t classified as a narcotic in the cop''s eyes. He saw this as an opportunity to earn a little extra for the upcoming holidays.


    The invisible dog materialized to claim the Mirage Capsules, its ethereal presence synchronized with its physical form. The creature''s senses recognized the scent of the drug, its longing growing stronger. While inhabiting the dog''s consciousness, the man''s mind had pushed the limits of the canine''s cognition. The drug had heightened the dog''s mental capacity, even as the dog itself. Though the man''s memories of his time as the dog remained hazy, the dog recalled the man''s thoughts.


    The dog felt compelled to help him, yet it also desired to assert dominance and regain control over its own body. A back-and-forth struggle ensued, each entity adapting and resisting the other''s influence. The dog would seize control, then relinquish it to the man, and so it continued. However, in moments of hunger, the dog''s instinct would triumph. The body''s needs couldn''t be overridden by either mind. Only the man recognized the distinction, even though the dog was far from housebroken.


    As the invisible dog circled the farm, feral coy-dogs lunged at it, sparking a fierce brawl. Despite being bitten multiple times, the invisible dog emerged victorious, gravely injuring and eventually killing all of the assailants.


    Farmer Jerichson initiated the next confrontation, arming himself with rock salt. With daylight fading, the encroaching darkness cast an ominous backdrop to their clash. He fired repeatedly before switching to buckshot. Ultimately, the invisible dog closed in, moving with determination and targeting his throat. Jerichson braced for impact, witnessing the creature''s form materializing as its blood became visible, mingling with the blood from the feral coy-dogs. Crimson liquid dripped from its muzzle and stained its eyes like a macabre mask.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    In the moonlight, the creature''s gleaming fangs bore down upon him.


    In a matter of moments, it was over. The dog moved with a lethal grace, its fangs rending Jerichson''s body into pieces, leaving behind a gruesome scene resembling a torn straw scarecrow. Hay erupted in six-foot-high arcs, and stuffing was strewn across the surroundings.


    Amid the carnage, the invisible dog unleashed a triumphant howl, resonating with sinister fervor. It ventured into the farmhouse, its paws heavy with blood and a trail of massive bloody prints left in its wake. There, it discovered the pocket containing Mirage Capsules and promptly consumed the entire stock.


    Inside the farmhouse, the farmer''s wife emitted a wet, muted moan, her gaze fixed on the monstrous dog. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the blood and dust that coated the creature''s body. The creature, partially visible due to the translucent patches, presented a surreal and horrifying image.


    Her sleeping infant lay nearby on the living room couch, undisturbed by the distant shotgun blasts that had resonated outside. The child slumbered serenely, blissfully unaware that her father had met his demise at the jaws of a dog.


    Now, the murderous canine was within the confines of their home. Fixated on the Mirage Capsules, it remained oblivious to their presence. The creature harbored an aversion to noise, and the woman''s every breath seemed to test its patience. Even the slightest sound might trigger its merciless assault, tearing her throat apart without a hint of mercy.


    Fearing for her life, she remained silent, her gaze shifting away from the invisible dog. Her attention was divided, focusing on something beyond the monstrosity before her.


    In the living room, the infant slumbered peacefully. In the kitchen, the woman knelt before the grotesque creature, its dripping blood forming a sinister tableau on the floor. Its fangs glistened, its visage a horrifying mosaic of varied shades of blood and gore. The eyes, instruments of death, held an unrelenting gaze.


    Abruptly, the creature''s head turned, following her gaze. It discerned the source of her distraction ¨C her sleeping baby on the living room couch. Growling menacingly, its fangs gleamed, saliva mixed with blood drooling from its mouth. The sound of its growls made its cheeks twitch, its eyes flickering like flames from the abyss.


    The child''s mother remained silent, aware that the slightest sound could invite the dog''s wrath. Tears of dread and despair fell from her chin, pooling below.


    Then, as if by some intervention, the man imprisoned within the dog''s consciousness seized control. Mirage Capsules had acted swiftly and potently, temporarily restoring his dominance over the beast.


    With no further violence, the creature faded into obscurity once more, vanishing into the night.


    Thus, an angel slept through a night of infernal chaos.

 Nightmare Of The Invisible Dog

    The beach was very dark and cold and quiet. Only nature made music here. It was a symphony of birds and waves and wind. The footprints were one set walking along the beach but the footprints were also two sets. One set adding itself to the other.


    The footprints of a human walking alone. The footprints of a dog were appearing beside the other set of footprints as the invisible dog followed the trail.


    Two years had gone by since that fateful day when Reese and Yoshito had become reunited over years of strife and resentment. Once they had a friendship and were part of the same academic covenant. Now the covenant was gone, sunken into obscurity.


    The dog was hunting the man. The man inside the dog wanted the hunt to happen. There was something left unfinished. Foam had formed around the beast''s lips where visible fangs trod the air where only gray light illuminated.


    The home of Yoshito. The dog could not have come here on its own. Especially since it was now a mad dog. An invisible dog with the mind of a great scientist implanted and insane. The dimensions of the monster were so convoluted that even its invisible deformed body was barely appropriate to contain the chaos inside its wormy brain.


    Hot rage drove it onward, pawprint to footprint as it made its way up the beach.


    Yoshito had sat with cooling tea, watching the morning storm passing from the shelter of his glass porch. He fell back asleep, an odd moment for such a disciplined and alert man. But his sleep came with a warning, a dream of the past, a nightmare.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    He heard the steps of the big animal coming up the wooden stairs from the beach. Then there was its breath on the glass. A wooden walkway wrapped around his beautiful beach home and the beast followed the elaborate structure to where it led into the side parlor, a place where the sunset could be viewed in winter. Here it found its way inside and left black wet marks where it stepped.


    Yoshito had the vantage point from where he sat, sleeping, dreaming he was awake and meeting his creation here at home. A great mirror of silver and carved palo wood stood from floor to ceiling, reflecting sunlight throughout the day into different parts of his home. Now it failed to capture the reflection of the bloodthirsty creature. It walked right past, leaving marks where it stepped and its rabid drool dripped and its fangs gleamed, but the dog cast not reflection. The mirror did not show the image of the horror in his home.


    The dog was coming for him. He could smell the wetness, the soggy dog smell. It had come inside from the cold and some of the cold air was around it like a blanket rolling off of it. The chill of its clammy skin was something felt in the change as it entered the room.


    The sound of the growl of the invisible dog came like the low roll of distant thunder and then grew to the menacing vibration of a snarling monster. Yoshito dropped his teacup and it shattered. Steam arose from the puddle of broken comfort as it lay cooling on the floor. A paw mark appeared there as the dog neared.


    With its breath was upon him, Yoshito felt sick. It was like a dead rotting thing. He could see its eyes this close, shimmering evilly with the malice of man and the merciless hunger of the dog as one being. It was no longer a dog and a man. It was always both of them now, in madness and in torment. Pain and wickedness were its true names.


    Now it had come home to its true master. Now the dog had come home and to become a master. Now the man, as a dog, had come to kill the man who made it. Now it would have its biting and tearing frenzy it would call revenge.


    Yoshito awoke.


    He had dreamed all of it. He looked down to the beach with binoculars he had there on his tea table.


    Only his footprints from early this morning.


    Only his.