Max

A man goes for a walk into the woods, and finds much more than he ever expected.

My brother's wife was trying to feed his dog Max, who had been acting strange from some days, always running away from her and hiding in the little cottage behind our house. The cottage was empty since Uncle Tim left for Germany, he had been using that cottage for his artwork and keeping his old tattered books he would not give away. Now Max was the next resident of that cottage, my brother Simon was always dragging him out of there. Simon really disliked that cottage, well, he disliked Uncle Tim as well. That is another story, but he definitely loved his dog more than he loved all of us.

 

However, it was easy to understand why. Max was a beautiful golden retriever will long yellow fur, and the deepest softest brown eyes that I have ever seen on a dog. He always walked about with a majestic air, although he was as soft and cuddly as a teddy bear. Max was also a clever thing, he always knew when the cheese was being cut in the kitchen, and had an endless array of crazy schemes to get out of the house and run down to the shed, which irritated my brother to no end. I wish that I had been slightly more attentive back in those days, because it would have done me a lot of good, but then again you can never really see that type of thing coming.

 

Life just happens I guess.

 

The reason I am focusing so much on Max, is because he is the reason the cascade of events was put into motion. If he had stayed away from the shed like he was supposed to none of this would have ever happened, and I would have just kept living in my whimsical naiveté. But then again, if nothing had occurred, I wouldn’t have a story to tell you now would I?

 

This story begins with a harmless walk in the back woods. I had been cramped up in my office all day, and I found myself glancing wistfully out the window every once in a while. It was the beginning of the fall, and the trees were starting to adopt the most beautiful pallet of colours. It was as if a gigantic artist was taking his brush slowly to the forest, colouring the leaves with strokes and splashes of bright vivid colour. I leaned back in my chair, taking in a deep breath and looking down at my computer. The words that I had been writing glared back at me, the black letters on the screen skittering before my eyes like spiders. I placed my hands over my face, rubbing my tired eyes with my fingers before I looked back out the window.

 

Surely it wouldn’t hurt if I took a break from my writing. The manuscript for the book was due in a few months, and I was far from having a first draft completed never mind a revised one. I shook my head at myself rising from my chair. One of the many perks of being an author was that I could work at home, and take as many breaks as I wanted to from my work. I was my own boss, and I was about to order myself to take a forest sabbatical, not knowing how much I was to truly learn.

 

I shrugged on my coat, closing my laptop so it would save where I was until I returned, before sweeping out the door and down the stairs. I opened the front door, breathing in the crisp fall air as it flowed past me gently. I closed the door firmly behind me and started to walk across the expanse of lawn that gave way to the trees about a hundred feet away. The mansion that we all lived in had been built on a large plot of land, and overlooked a vast area of trees. The mansion had originally been owned by my grandfather who had of course passed it and all of the funds that came with it down to my father and uncle to use as they wished. Our parents had unfortunately passed away in a car accident before we could remember what they looked like, and our Uncle had cared for us ever since. It had only been me and my brother at the time, and evetually he had gotten married while I remained alone. The house was plenty big enough to keep things from becoming awkward, but being alone all of the time did not have very many benefits. 

 

I walked away from the house, heading for the trees as quickly as my feet wished to carry me. The breeze swept past me, tickling my face playfully as it went by and I delved into the forest. The leaves crackled like electricity under my feet, batting at my shoes as the wind pushed them about. I walked through the woods, my eyes passing over the rough contours of the bark on the trees. A few rocks, covered with ancient green moss propped up from the ground, protruding from the sea of leaves like lonely islands. I walked a little further into the trees, not caring much where I was headed before I stopped as a noise caught my ear.

 

I stopped, cocking my head slightly as the breeze whistled in my ears, straining to hear the noise again. Turning and crushing leaves under my feet, my eyes pierce the trees, looking for any intruder. Then I hear it again, the rapid crunching of leaves through the trees, coming right towards me. The sound got louder and louder, crackling in my ears and making my heart race, something had been sneaking up on me this entire time!

 

I wheeled, looking around me but seeing nothing at all. Shadows darted this way and that, thinking my eyes into thinking that there was something there. The trees rustled ominously, covering up the crunching of dead leaves, coming ominously closer. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest, throbbing to every crunch and snap before something jumped out of the trees. I flinched, my brain reacting in a split second as something slammed into me bowling me over in the leaves.

 

I was suddenly down on the ground, my vision smothered by the undergrowth as something leapt onto my chest. Hot reeking breath washed over my face and down my throat, stifling me. I rolled, clearing my vision before white teeth darted in front of my eyes. Then the thing leapt off of me, muscles coiled ready to spring, tongue lolling out of its mouth tasting the air.

 

I sat up quickly, holding my hands in front of me to ward off any further attack before I laughed nervously. “Max,” I said scoldingly, “You almost scared me to death.”

 

The dog just sauntered over to me, panting happily before licking my face with his long wet tongue. I groaned, pushing him away gently, before getting to my feet and brushing the dirt from my clothes. I looked down at Max, who had busied himself with marking a tree, before looking back through the woods to the house.

 

“I guess it is time to go back to my writing,” I said sadly. The dog looked up at me, his muzzle closed as he looked at me curiously. “Do you want a treat boy?”

 

At the word treat the dogs eyes lit up and his tail whirled behind him like a propeller. He barked happily and jumped up around me, following as I started the walk back to the house. As we passed through the trees he would occasionally stop and sniff at random things, snuffling loudly. Then he would trot back over to me and follow my every move.

 

As we got closer to the house the dog suddenly stopped, his nose pointing towards something in the forest. His entire body became tense, and the hairs on his back stood on end as a snarl rumbled in his chest. I ground to a halt, never having heard anything of the sort from the dog before he bolted into the trees.

 

“MAX!” I yelled, before stumbling after him. Branched leapt into my face and stung my eyes as I chased after him, but his feet were much more nimble than mine. I fumbled through the trees, following the frantic angry barking before I came to a stop in front of the cottage that was nestled in the woods. I got there just in time to see Max dart through the door, which was ajar.

“Max get back here!” I snapped tripping over my feet as I tried to get to the door. “You are not supposed to go in there!” But the dog paid me no heed.  I could hear him snarling and ripping at something and I sighed. He must have seen a squirrel and chased it into the cabin. I walked over to the door and pulled it open.

 

“Come on Max don’t make a mess in here-“ I started before my eyes processed what they were seeing, sending a lightning bolt to my brain.

 

The last time I had seen the cottage, it had been clean and neat, stacked from floor to ceiling with precious art and manuscripts. My brother had though that it was useless junk that my old fashioned uncle never should have kept. He made sure to keep the cottage spotless, so his collection would not be harmed, but now it was a completely different place.

 

Shredded paper and broken frames were scattered across the floorboards, rustling as they were disturbed from their slumber by the wind that swept through the door. The paintings that had been hung on the walls were hanging crooked from their nails, their glass faces cracked and broken. The paintings were rented with slashes and splatters of dark brown paint. The chairs and table had been flipped and pushed into the corner of the room, and were also covered with the same peculiar paint.

 

In the middle of the room Max was scratching at the floor, carving long streaks into the wood with his claws. Snarls ripped through the air as he dug at the floorboards, trying to get at whatever was underneath. I stood there frozen for a second, before I crossed the room and my hands closed around the back of one of the chairs.

 

The words “Move Max,” escaped my lips and the dog darted away before the metal chair slammed into the ground. There was a sharp snap and I knew that I was breaking it so I hit it again and again with the chair. Cracks slithered from the area I was hitting and with a loud crack a section of the old floor caved in. Then I was on my hands and knees, my fingers splintered as I pulled away the shards of wood to reveal the cold earth below.

 

Then a scream erupted from my lips and I reared back from the hole like I had been bitten by a snake. For in the hole, protruding from the dirt like a rock was a face. The sockets of the face were empty and blinded with dirt, and the mouth was open in an eternal scream. Earth and maggots spilled over the lips, writhing angrily for being disturbed. An earthworm was slithering out of one nostril, prodding the air as it moved. The skin was stretched and cracked looking like it had been too small for the skull that it was fitted over. The hair on top of the head was dirty and matted, and patches of white broken skull fragments glared from underneath it. A hand was buried in the dirt next to it, sticking up from the ground like a dead sapling. The fingers were twisted and broken, the skin falling and peeling from the bone like old wallpaper. Even though the face had been rendered unrecognisable, I knew who it was from the moment I saw him.

 

It seemed that Uncle Tim had never gone to Germany.

 

Bile rose in my throat and my eyes watered as I gagged, wrenching the contents of my stomach onto the ground. Tears streamed down my face as my brain screamed at me to run and never look back, as the eyes that were sunk into the ground were burned into my mind. I reeled, realizing that the streaks of brown that strained the walls and floor were not of paint but of dried spattered blood. I lay on the ground, unable to process the simplest thought before a voice cut through me.

 

“I see you found it him then.”

 

I looked up to see my brothers outline silhouetted in the doorway. Max stood next to him, his teeth bared as my brother slowly rubbed him behind the ears.

 

“What is going on?” I asked, looking at Simon. “What have you done?!”

“I did what was necessary,” Simon said, looking down on me like he always had. “The old man wasn’t going to die any time soon, so I simply sped up the process.”

“That is why you never wanted Max down here!” I said fixing the pieces together, “You didn’t want me to follow him down here and find out what you had done!”

“Actually, that is not entirely true,” Simon grinned as the dog snarled. “You see, even with dear Uncle Tim out of the way, I don’t get everything that is rightfully mine as the oldest. We both know he left half of the estate to you.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, my heart trembling in my chest.

“I am saying that you are in my way dear brother. We both know what you would do with the money anyways. You would squander what is rightfully mine, spending it on books you know will never sell. So instead, you are going to get out of my way.”

“So you are going to kill me,” I said. “You are going to kill your own brother for money?”

“Money makes the world go round,” Simon snickered, “and I have big plans for the future, plans that do not include parasites like you.”

He paused, an evil grin spreading across his cheeks like flames.

“If you kill me, someone is going to find out and you are going to get nothing,” I said, my voice betraying my fear.

“Whoever said I was going to kill you?” Simon asked innocently. “I said I was going to get you out of the way.”

“So you are going to lock me in here,” I said. “People will hear me if I yell loud enough.”

My brother grinned wickedly. “That is why Max is going to rip out your throat.” He looked down at the dog, which had been transformed into a wicked animal I had never seen before. A snarl rippled across his muzzle as he bared his deadly teeth at me.

 

The last thing I head was “Max, kill,” and then my screams were drowned in my lungs, never to be heard again. 

Author's Note

This story was written for a contest where I had to create a story from the first paragraph which was not mine. What did you all think of it?
Credits for the cover photo go to otterluver on deviantart.com.