------------------------------The Howling of the Dogs----------------------------------
[HORROR]
Richard awoke to his alarm clock with a start. He sat up, and rubbed his fat belly. Pounding the alarm clock off as he turned on his bed, he stood up with a deep grunt. Stretching his arms, his grimy tank top revealed his large, hairy gut. Grumbling to himself, he walked over to the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, he washed himself off. Upon coming off, he walked naked over to the toilet, and did his business.
Approaching the sink, with the mirror above it, he looked at his face. Grey splotches underneath his eyes, double chin, and he was beginning to bald slightly. Still, as he looked at his reflection, he smiled arrogantly, and said in a gruff voice, “Damn, I look good.” as he did every morning.
Lurching back into his bedroom, he silently began to dress, putting on a grimy white t-shirt which looked a size too small. He then put on a dirty pair of navy-blue boxers, and put on his denim overalls. He sat down on the bed, causing it to sink with a horrible creaking sound. Reaching for his work boots, he began to put them on.
Then he heard the howling. “Damn those dogs. I keep telling that man to keep their yaps shut so I don’t have to listen to their howling.” he said in a rage, “I’ll tell that man what-for when I get off my shift.”
After his boots were on, he stood up, and left his room, walking down the old wood stairs that groaned and squeaked from age. Stepping out of his house, the howls of the dogs became louder. “Damn those dogs to hell. I’ll give that scum of a neighbor what-for when I get off my shift.” he said again angrily, stepping into his old, rusty white pick-up truck.
~~~~
Richard’s work as a plumber was an insult to him, as he often thought. “I should be a CEO in a big-a** company in New York, not fixing people’s shitty plumbing in the slums of this goddamn country.” cursed Richard as he worked underneath the cupboard sink of the local drunk, who often kicked his pipes out of place in his stupor.
As he stormed angrily from the building after finishing, he heard the howls of the dogs, though quieter from the distance. “Damn those dogs. I’ll tell that son-of-a-b***h owner what-for when I see him after my shift.” he growled under his voice as he stepped into his truck, slamming the door behind him.
~~~~
Bursting into the office of his boss in a huff, glaring furiously at his boss, Richard plopped down in one of the old torn-out chairs that had been placed in the office to provide a slight comfort for any guests.
“Give me a promotion.” said Richard bitterly, though he said it in his most polite voice.
“Mr. Slougher. You’ve worked many years at this company-” started the boss.
“So give me a goddamn promotion.” interrupted Richard angrily.
“That language around me, and the customers themselves, is exactly why you don’t have a higher position.” the boss said.
“Language? You think my language is so damn bad? You should listen to Mr. Morose. His tongue would make a sailor blush.” roared Richard.
“That’s besides the point-” started the boss.
“And then there’s Ms. Pineck,” interrupted Richard again, “When she’s drunk, she would make anyone clean their ears with soap after listening to her.”
“MR. SLOUGHER!! WILL YOU SHUT UP?!” shouted the boss furiously, standing up. “Don’t you dare take that tone with your superiors in your next job, because YOU ARE FIRED from here!”
Richard stood up, knocking the chair over, breaking it. He grabbed a piece of the chair, and threw it at the head of the boss as he stormed out of the room, smiling in satisfaction as he heard the grunt of pain coming from the boss.
~~~~
Driving into his neighbor’s driveway, Richard stepped out from his truck, slamming the door with incredible force.
Hearing the bang, his neighbor, the hunter rushed out of his trailer house. “Richard? What’s the meaning of this?” asked the hunter, looking curiously at him as his three dogs ran up to them both.
“Keep your stupid dogs quiet. Or else I’ll make them quiet.” growled Richard furiously.
“Richard, dogs will be dogs. You can’t expect them to be quiet all the time.” said the hunter, patting the head of the oldest of the three dogs.
“But yours howl every morning, every afternoon, and well into the night, while some of us are trying to sleep!” shouted Richard.
The hunter scowled at Richard, “Well, you obviously haven’t lost much, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to carry that body of yours around.” he said scornfully, “Now get off my land before I shoot you off.” he ordered.
Spitting at the hunter, Richard said, “You better watch yourself, I will get you for this.” He stepped into his truck, and drove back to his house.
~~~~
That night, in the light of the full moon, Richard crept up the hill that led to the hunter’s house. He had a large, blunt rock in his hand, and a devious smile on his fat face. As he came out of the forest, he snuck up to the fenced area where the dogs were kept. Tiptoeing as quietly as he could, he approached the oldest dog, and bludgeoned its head. Its skull collapsed, killing it with hardly a sound.
Richard then snuck over to the second oldest dog, and did the same to it. He then approached the final and youngest dog, little more than a puppy. It looked up at him with wet eyes, puppy-dog eyes, you might say, but that didn’t stop the man from bludgeoning it to death.
Chuckling to himself, Richard snuck back to his house. Crawling back into bed, he smiled to himself as he drifted into sleep in the newly-gained silence that he had worked for.
~~~~
Early next morning, Richard heard a loud banging on his front door. Irritated, the fat man got out of bed, and grumbled down the stairs, “Shut up, I’m coming!” He tore the door open, and the hunter was standing there, fire in his eyes.
“You killed my dogs last night, didn’t you?!” the hunter demanded furiously, pointing accursedly at Richard.
“Yeah, and? At least now everyone in the town can sleep peacefully.” sneered Richard, smirking at the hunter.
“You-you goddamn as-!” started the hunter, but he was forced to stop by Richard’s heavy fist pounding his head, knocking him unconscious immediately.
Smiling in a gloating manner over the hunter’s body, Richard put his head on the hunter, and pressed down with his entire body weight. He laughed as the blood of the hunter washed out onto he ground.
~~~~
During the night, Richard buried the hunter’s body in his front yard. He then snuck back inside, and fell asleep.
~~~~
The next morning, Richard awoke to his alarm clock with a start. He sat up, and rubbed his fat belly. Pounding the alarm clock off as he turned on his bed, he stood up with a deep grunt. Stretching his arms, his grimy tank top revealed his large, hairy gut. Grumbling to himself, he walked over to the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, he washed himself off. Upon coming off, he walked naked over to the toilet, and did his business.
Approaching the sink, with the mirror above it, he looked at his face. Grey splotches underneath his eyes, double chin, and he was beginning to bald slightly. Still, as he looked at his reflection, he smiled arrogantly, and said in a gruff voice, “Damn, I look good.” as he did every morning.
Lurching back into his bedroom, he silently began to dress, putting on a grimy white t-shirt which looked a size too small. He then put on a dirty pair of navy-blue boxers, and put on his denim overalls. He sat down on the bed, causing it to sink with a horrible creaking sound. Reaching for his work boots, he began to put them on.
After his boots were on, he stood up, and left his room, walking down the old wood stairs that groaned and squeaked from age. Stepping outside of his house, and approaching his truck, he said to himself, “It’s time to leave this hellhole, and make the money I deserve.”
He heard it then. The howling of three dogs. “Damn those dogs, I’ll show that man what-” Richard started absent-mindedly, as grim realization sunk into his brain.
~~~~
The police examining the body couldn’t understand what had killed him. They had found out he had murdered a nearby neighbor, for they had seen the hole that the body had been carelessly thrown into, but it looked as if the hole had been unburied later.
“It’s strange, these claw and bite marks are of no animal known in this area.” said the deputy to the sheriff.
“They almost look like dog wounds, but only much larger.” replied the sheriff.
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