Thursday, 30 April 2015

2. "Black Dog" (Hellhound Story)

Robbie opened the brown paper bag containing his lunch.
“Apple,” he muttered, rifling through its contents, “fruit cup, and… tuna fish sandwich.” He looked up to see Douglas, who was sticking out his tongue.

“Tuna fish? Guh-ross.” He snapped his Batman lunchbox shut. “Not trading anything for that.

The voice was low and willow thin: “I like tuna fish.”

They turned and saw it was the new kid. Damian-something.

“Ignore ‘im,” Douglas muttered. “Black clothes everyday. Weirdo.”

Damian’s eyes flashed. Douglas stood from the school bench, his face and a spot on his sweatpants rapidly darkening.

“I guh-gotta go,” he mumbled, running off.

Robbie was alone with Damian.

“What d’y’wanna trade for it?” asked Robbie. “I don’t see a lunch bag on you.”

“I’ll trade one of my pets.”

“Oh, like a frog? I heard Mikey Brown caught a few at Hobbes’ Creek last—”

Damian raised a pale hand, silencing him, and then pointed to behind Robbie.

“Do you see?”

Robbie turned, and gasped. He saw a large shadow in the playground: a huge hound, with fur so black it seemed to absorb light. Its eyes burned like solar eclipses.
“Wow,” Robbie breathed.
“He’ll never leave your side, not ever,” said Damian. “Not even when you’re dead.”

The recess bell rang. Children passed around the big black dog as if it wasn’t there.

Robbie held the brown paper bag to Damian, not taking his eyes from the dog.

“Here,” he said. “You can have the whole thing.” 

248 Words.

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