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The Evil Eye

Short story By: jaybaba33
Horror


Tags: Buster, Dog, Evil, Eye


Buster is a dog with special abilities. He can understand what humans say, and even control what they do. This tale is not for the faint of heart. No pun intended.


Submitted:Apr 29, 2013    Reads: 20    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


The Evil Eye

Buster wondered about the junk yard, looking for scraps of food to eat. Anything would do. Meat. Milk. A bird. A mouse. Even a fly. The poor mutts stomache growled, but there was nothing to satisfy his hunger. He nosed through a pile of garbage, finding only an empty milk carton and a few filthy rags. "No meat," he thought, if dogs can think that is. He scratched himself with his left hind foot and wimpered. The fleas were biting today. Bad.

Buster paced around the cluttered junk yard, wishing for a better life. Just then, Howard, the yard attendant, came bumbling along, carrying a bag of something....something that smelled really good.

"Here Buster," said Howard. "I brought you a treat." He opened the sack and began to fish through it. A moment later, he pulled out a small beef bone. It still had some meat on it. Buster began to drool. "Gimme, gimme!" he thought. "Hungry, hungry!" Howard held the meaty bone above the hungry dog. "Now before I give it to you, you have to do a trick." Buster knew many tricks. He could chase his tail, stand up on his hind legs, balance on a beach ball, and even ride a small trysicle. Buster knew that he was a very special dog. As far back as he could remember, he had had special abilities, such as understanding peoples words, being able to mimic the human voice, roughly, and the strangest ability of all, He could stare at anything and make things happen.

Once he stared hard at a cat, and it came over to him carrying a bird in it's mouth. It dropped the small bird at Busters feet and ran away. Buster had enjoyed that bird so much. Another time, he had stared hard at a young bully who was pushing a smaller kid around. Suddenly, the bully started hitting himself very hard and pulling his own hair. The bully screamed and ran away.

And, the most bizarre occurance of all, was the time he was a puppy. When Buster had been living with the gray bearded man and his grandson, long before he had come to the junk yard, he was playing with young Tucker. The boy used to play very rough with the litter of puppies. One afternoon, after Tucker had come home from a place called school, The boy ran into the backyard and cornered Buster. In his hand was a long stick. Buster knew that the boy was up to no good, so he stared hard at him. suddenly, the boy turned the stick towards himself and pushed it through his chest, impaling himself.

An ambulance had rushed to try and save the boy, but it was too late. The boy was dead. The whole thing had been concidered an accident, and the grand father was placed in an old folks home. The dogs were given to friends, all but Buster, who was left in the junk yard in the city. Poor Buster knew he was responsdible for the boys death. He kept the secret with him up to that very moment, never telling another dog.

Now he was waiting for something to happen as he stared at Howard, who was still holding the meaty bone. Buster stared hard at the shabby, smelly man. He really wanted that bone. Suddenly, it slipped from Howard's hand and fell into a pile of trash. Howard tried to pick it up, but Buster was too fast for him. The dog grabbed the bone in it's jaws and took off running, with the man close behind. Buster found a good hiding place and began chewing on the bone. The dog stared at Howard from his hiding place, staring hard.

"Where did that damn dog go!" the man shouted, looking about. "This is fun," thought Buster. He eyed Howard and concentrated. Suddenly, Howards clothes disappeared, and he ran away, probably off to the shed to hide.

Buster ate all the meat from the bone, then chewed it a while. When he grew bored with it, he ran to the entrance of the junk yard and found the fence locked up tight. If only there were some way to get out. He thought and thought, but couldn't come up with a solution. He tried to make the fence disappear by staring hard at it, but it was no use. It had worked on clothes, but not metal. Suddenly, he noticed the lock holding the fence closed was not made of metal, but plastic. It was nothing more than a padlock! He stared at it long and hard, and it unlatched. Then it fell to the ground.

Buster pushed the fence doors opened and ran out of the junk yard. It was the first time he had been outside of the junk yard in weeks. Now he was free! He ran to a nearby house and ran through the doggie door. Once inside, he found an older woman baking. The smells that filled the room were intoxicating. Buster licked his lips hungrily. The woman still had her back to the dog, and hadn't yet noticed him. Buster stared hard at the woman, and she fell backwards suddenly, onto the wooden table filled with yummy smelling food. The table cracked in half, and food flew everywhere.

The woman hit the ground hard and was unconcious. Buster didn't care. He smelled all the food that lay on the floor, and began gobbling up some sausage links. One, then two, then three, then four, five and six. After Buster had had his fill of food, he ran on into the living room. He smelled living things here. There was a large recliner set in front of a fire place, it's back to him. Fire crackled away. He moved slowly towards the chair, then heard a cat hiss. Buster glanced at the cat, and it fell onto it's side, dead.

Suddenly, a fat man stood up out of the chair and turned to see Buster standing behind the chair. "Hey!" the fat man shouted. "Get out of here mutt. Scram!" He wobbled towards the dog, and Buster took off, running around the room in circles. The man tried his best to run after the mischievious dog, but was way too slow. The man reached out a fat hand towards Buster, and the dog yelped. He glanced up at the fat man, and the man suddenly slipped and fell right into the fire place! He screamed in pain for several moments, then lay silently, dead.

Buster's heart was pounding now. What had he done? One man was dead, and possibly another. He ran back into the kitchen and out through the doggie door. Back outside, he ran as fast as he could away from the house. It had been fun at first, but when people started dying, that was enough for Buster. He wandered back into the junk yard, the very place he had wanted to escape from in the first place. He decided that this place would be his home from now on. His punishment for his evil ways. For his evil eye. He found a good spot to rest, next to a pile of garbage, and drifted off to sleep.

The Evil Eye

Buster wondered about the junk yard, looking for scraps of food to eat. Anything would do. Meat. Milk. A bird. A mouse. Even a fly. The poor mutts stomache growled, but there was nothing to satisfy his hunger. He nosed through a pile of garbage, finding only an empty milk carton and a few filthy rags. "No meat," he thought, if dogs can think that is. He scratched himself with his left hind foot and wimpered. The fleas were biting today. Bad.

Buster paced around the cluttered junk yard, wishing for a better life. Just then, Howard, the yard attendant, came bumbling along, carrying a bag of something....something that smelled really good.

"Here Buster," said Howard. "I brought you a treat." He opened the sack and began to fish through it. A moment later, he pulled out a small beef bone. It still had some meat on it. Buster began to drool. "Gimme, gimme!" he thought. "Hungry, hungry!" Howard held the meaty bone above the hungry dog. "Now before I give it to you, you have to do a trick." Buster knew many tricks. He could chase his tail, stand up on his hind legs, balance on a beach ball, and even ride a small trysicle. Buster knew that he was a very special dog. As far back as he could remember, he had had special abilities, such as understanding peoples words, being able to mimic the human voice, roughly, and the strangest ability of all, He could stare at anything and make things happen.

Once he stared hard at a cat, and it came over to him carrying a bird in it's mouth. It dropped the small bird at Busters feet and ran away. Buster had enjoyed that bird so much. Another time, he had stared hard at a young bully who was pushing a smaller kid around. Suddenly, the bully started hitting himself very hard and pulling his own hair. The bully screamed and ran away.

And, the most bizarre occurance of all, was the time he was a puppy. When Buster had been living with the gray bearded man and his grandson, long before he had come to the junk yard, he was playing with young Tucker. The boy used to play very rough with the litter of puppies. One afternoon, after Tucker had come home from a place called school, The boy ran into the backyard and cornered Buster. In his hand was a long stick. Buster knew that the boy was up to no good, so he stared hard at him. suddenly, the boy turned the stick towards himself and pushed it through his chest, impaling himself.

An ambulance had rushed to try and save the boy, but it was too late. The boy was dead. The whole thing had been concidered an accident, and the grand father was placed in an old folks home. The dogs were given to friends, all but Buster, who was left in the junk yard in the city. Poor Buster knew he was responsdible for the boys death. He kept the secret with him up to that very moment, never telling another dog.

Now he was waiting for something to happen as he stared at Howard, who was still holding the meaty bone. Buster stared hard at the shabby, smelly man. He really wanted that bone. Suddenly, it slipped from Howard's hand and fell into a pile of trash. Howard tried to pick it up, but Buster was too fast for him. The dog grabbed the bone in it's jaws and took off running, with the man close behind. Buster found a good hiding place and began chewing on the bone. The dog stared at Howard from his hiding place, staring hard.

"Where did that damn dog go!" the man shouted, looking about. "This is fun," thought Buster. He eyed Howard and concentrated. Suddenly, Howards clothes disappeared, and he ran away, probably off to the shed to hide.

Buster ate all the meat from the bone, then chewed it a while. When he grew bored with it, he ran to the entrance of the junk yard and found the fence locked up tight. If only there were some way to get out. He thought and thought, but couldn't come up with a solution. He tried to make the fence disappear by staring hard at it, but it was no use. It had worked on clothes, but not metal. Suddenly, he noticed the lock holding the fence closed was not made of metal, but plastic. It was nothing more than a padlock! He stared at it long and hard, and it unlatched. Then it fell to the ground.

Buster pushed the fence doors opened and ran out of the junk yard. It was the first time he had been outside of the junk yard in weeks. Now he was free! He ran to a nearby house and ran through the doggie door. Once inside, he found an older woman baking. The smells that filled the room were intoxicating. Buster licked his lips hungrily. The woman still had her back to the dog, and hadn't yet noticed him. Buster stared hard at the woman, and she fell backwards suddenly, onto the wooden table filled with yummy smelling food. The table cracked in half, and food flew everywhere.

The woman hit the ground hard and was unconcious. Buster didn't care. He smelled all the food that lay on the floor, and began gobbling up some sausage links. One, then two, then three, then four, five and six. After Buster had had his fill of food, he ran on into the living room. He smelled living things here. There was a large recliner set in front of a fire place, it's back to him. Fire crackled away. He moved slowly towards the chair, then heard a cat hiss. Buster glanced at the cat, and it fell onto it's side, dead.

Suddenly, a fat man stood up out of the chair and turned to see Buster standing behind the chair. "Hey!" the fat man shouted. "Get out of here mutt. Scram!" He wobbled towards the dog, and Buster took off, running around the room in circles. The man tried his best to run after the mischievious dog, but was way too slow. The man reached out a fat hand towards Buster, and the dog yelped. He glanced up at the fat man, and the man suddenly slipped and fell right into the fire place! He screamed in pain for several moments, then lay silently, dead.

Buster's heart was pounding now. What had he done? One man was dead, and possibly another. He ran back into the kitchen and out through the doggie door. Back outside, he ran as fast as he could away from the house. It had been fun at first, but when people started dying, that was enough for Buster. He wandered back into the junk yard, the very place he had wanted to escape from in the first place. He decided that this place would be his home from now on. His punishment for his evil ways. For his evil eye. He found a good spot to rest, next to a pile of garbage, and drifted off to sleep.





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