HFTOH - Only A Dog Knows

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
They did always say that animals and children could see what adults couldn't.

Submitted: January 14, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 14, 2017



I smile at the animal in front of me.


The gorgeous canine who leans in as my expression changes, giving me a few experimental sniffs.


“That’s my puppy,” I laugh fondly, ruffling the top of his head.


Despite being of adult age, I still had the habit of calling him my puppy. Probably because he was the only dog I had had since he was a puppy, a rare occurrence at having a puppy makes the nickname a little harder to lose.


The white end of his tail twitches a little, as if he’s unsure whether to wag it or not.


Instead he rests it back against the bed and chooses to lie down against me as I run my fingers through his golden fur, his brown eyes closing a little in contentment.


One of his white socked paws rests on the crook of my elbow as he rests his head just on top of it, breathing steadily as I stroke and coo almost like you would a child.


For a brief moment he appears asleep and I use this opportunity to twist myself back a little to look at my laptop screen, making sure that I hadn’t missed a message during my fussing over my pet.




With a shrug, I shift back into a more comfortable position and look back at my dog, who in turn is staring back at me as if asking me why I’d stopped stroking and to continue.


“I’m sorry puppers.”


He lets out a small huff through his nose and sets his head back to where it originally rested, his eyes briefly flickering up as in indication to continue.


As his brown eyes flickered up meet my own blue ones, I catch a glint of something that causes me to momentarily freeze.


I could have sworn in the reflection of his eyes that I saw a figure just a few feet beside the bed.


A tall figure that appeared to be wearing something like a trench coat, but the completely black void of the silhouette made it hard to distinguish specific features.


They were almost like a pure shadow with no one around who could possibly cast it.


A frown etches onto my face as I reflexively twist around to look at were the figure had been standing, only to find nothing but the white, poster covered door to my bedroom.


Despite the uncomfortable twist in my gut, I turn back towards my dog.


The better half of me tries to rationalise everything and convince myself that my eyes were playing tricks on me, but the other half was telling me that something was deeply wrong and the confliction did nothing but hurt my head.


“You’re being paranoid,” I reprimand myself, before smiling at the animal in front of me once again. “Ignore me, I’m being stupid.”


A ridiculous sounding laugh leaves my throat, but is cut off just as abruptly as I catch another glimpse within the dog’s dark eye.


It was closer this time, looming forward with one hand outstretched as if meaning to grab me.


A strangled gasp almost made me choke as I twisted back around to inspect behind me

again, losing care temporarily for the dog’s comfort only once again to find nothing ominous.


Uncontrollable tears pricked at my eyes as my body began to shake.


I had to dare myself to turn back around to take another look, my heart beating erratically as I did so.


A tear trickled down my cheek as reflected back at me was the image of a large, dark hand resting on the top of my head.


Long, black and seemingly clawed fingers sliding slowly over my forehead.

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