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A Story by Criss
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Alone in the middle of the night with a strange dog unknowingly following you.

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Happy faces everywhere you look, and it makes you sick. Dresses flowing through the air with each spin, that also makes you sick. You soon leave all of this romantic garbage in no rush, and you are not looking back. Music can be heard in the distance, and you hate it. Come to think of it, you hate what you laughingly call your life; why these people are happy all of the time confuses you. Thoughts are running about you and the “happy” people that surround you, and that is when you hear it. You look around, and see no one. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

“Creepy forest,” You mutter to yourself as you keep walking.

The crunching continues, but  you ignore it. After all, it is dark, creepy, and you are alone. No job, no car, no date-no one who cares, you think to yourself. Halfway through, the crunching stops. Surprised, you stop and look around in every direction possible. Still, no one.

“Hello?” You call out, still no on, except a dog.

Walking away from it, you laugh at yourself. Looking back, that dog is still there; with glowing-red eyes. Digging in your pocket for something, or anything at this moment, he walks closer. Throwing a stick, you pray that he will chase after it. Only to find that he just stares at you, eyes glowing more red. Walking away, petrified, the crunching continues. Knowing that the crunching is coming from that creepy dog, you don’t look back. Feeling your body hit hard on the ground, you know that it is too late. Too late to know that this dog, is not a dog, but something else. Something else that every person should be afraid of- well, every human. A sharp-sudden bite is felt on your side, you look over and see blood. Fainting, you hear someone else coming, and growling. Slaps on your head wake you up, still in the forest, you see no dog anywhere. Just a person with torn clothes, bite marks, and red eyes.

© 2011 Criss


Author's Note

Criss
I wrote this at three a.m. the other night after pulling a fifty hour work shift in less than four days, excuse the poor writing style.

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Added on April 19, 2011
Last Updated on April 19, 2011

Author

Criss
Criss

About
I aint the happy friendly type. My writings are dark, macabre, and mystical- not something for immature eye. more..

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