Sinister History

Dogs had been sent after him; he could hear them barking and growling; their excitement was seeping from them like a thick fog; he could hear the frantic pounding of his own heart; it hurt against his ribcage; his legs were hurting from the exertion; but if they caught him, they would bring him back; and if the dogs didn't kill him, they surely would.

"Keep running, but don't worry, little one; we'll catch you, and you'll wish you hadn't run in the first place."

The voice that he hated so much was the one that he feared the most; it was so close, and the dogs sounded closer, and then he looked back, a fatal mistake in which he stumbled back.

The dogs were still in pursuit of him, and he scrambled to his feet. He noticed that he was at a house, but not just any house; it was a house that all the people warned them never to go to. It was an old house, and it had belonged to a family that was corrupt and evil. Then one day the family suddenly disappeared, and no one knew where they could've gone.

But soon some children claimed it was haunted or cursed, and anyone who came in never came out. He didn't want to go in, but even now he didn't have a choice because the dogs sounded even closer.

He looked around frantically. It was very dark, so he had to feel around the house. He was at the back of the house, and he found a doggy door. It was small, but so was he, and he fit in easily. He let out a sigh of relief and sat against the door.

It was even darker in the house than it was outside. He could see the outlines of the furniture, and the little light in the room was casting a scary shadow over everything.

"Come out, come out, little one. Let's go back, and your punishment will be quick." There was no ounce of warmth in the voice that called out to him; it made him quake in fear.

I won't go back. I can't go back. He thought to himself.

There were footsteps, and he heard whistling. That wasn't good. Whistling meant that he had been found, scrambling to his feet. He felt his way around the house, trying not to make a sound. The next step he took made a loud creaking sound.

The whistling stopped, and he held his breath, hoping with all his might that the man—that monster—would go away, but then the door burst open right off its hinges, wasting no time. He ran, then he was suddenly falling.

The scream was caught in his throat, and he made contact with the bottom. A loud crack resounded throughout the house. The monster looked over the side at the little one lying at a twisted angle. Blood was pooling around him. With the moonlight shining down on him.

He clicked his tongue. Oh well, now he didn't have to worry about trying to bring him back without seeming suspicious. Without another glance, he walked out with the dogs beside him.

When he got up to the place, the first light of dawn was beginning to appear. He disappeared inside.

This was only the beginning of something more sinister.