Story A
The sunrise cast a warm glow around my living room. The curtains were drawn open to reveal the golden-orange leaves of the maple tree in the yard. I sat on my old, gray couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. I was skimming some news articles. In a few minutes I would take Byron on a walk, and then I would have to go to work. Just another boring office job, but at least it paid the bills.
I could hear Byron’s nails scrabbling on the wooden floor. I poured the dregs of the coffee into my mouth and slid my phone into my pocket. Byron bounced into the living room with his leash in his mouth. He was a ball of pure energy before his walk, and it was contagious. I couldn’t help but smile and pet him before grabbing the leash from his mouth and sliding on my sneakers.
Walking Byron was one of my favorite parts of the day. We just went around the neighborhood, but it was a decent sized loop. It was calm outside in the morning, the only time there weren’t any kids screaming in their yards. The only people who were awake were either the runners, who sped on by without a word, or early risers holed up in their homes. It was a pleasant autumn day, slightly warm, but there was a cool breeze blowing. It was going to be hot this afternoon. The kids would be begging their parents for ice cream and a visit to the pool.
We finished our loop and started walking back to the house. I checked the time on my phone. I had about thirty minutes to shower and scavenge something to eat. I had really meant to go grocery shopping for the past two days, but I’d kept putting it off. I’d stop by the store after work today. I pulled the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door.
Byron hesitated. I looked down at him quizzically. Normally he just walks right in when I open the door. He sniffed the air and then tentatively crept in. I shrugged and closed the door behind me, taking off his leash and petting him for comfort. He seemed to relax at my touch, and then he pranced off to another room. I dismissed it as Bryon being weird and continued with my day.
When I got home from work and the grocery store that evening, Byron was waiting at the door to greet me, like always. I walked over to the corner to set the food down and pulled out some carrots. It was the one vegetable that I had actively liked eating since childhood, and Byron shared my interest. After eating a few without Byron coming over, I called his name.
“Byron, come here!” Byron stayed. “Byron, I’ve got carrots!” I shook the carrot bag emphatically and waved him over with the other hand. Byron whined.
“Byron, what’s wrong?” I walked over to him, and just like that, Byron was all over me, taking the carrot I had been holding for himself. I laughed.
“You’re a silly boy, aren’t you?” I asked, ruffling the fur on top of his head. Byron was weird. You could never know what he was thinking.
The next morning I was woken by Byron jumping on the bed. He nudged me with his nose and then dropped his leash on my chest. I shoved him off the bed sleepily and rolled over, still half asleep. He pounced on me again, and when that didn’t work, he did it a third time. He hadn’t done this since I first got him.
“Hang on there boy, we’ll go on a walk in a little while. What’s the matter with you this morning?” Byron kept jumping around and started barking. As I forced myself to get out of bed, I realized that Byron wasn’t just energetic. He seemed scared. He was tense and jumpy, his barks less playful and more urgent, like he was trying to convey something.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Shhhh, you gotta be quiet; it’s too early in the morning, and I don’t want to get complaints.” Byron just kept barking, thrusting the leash at me with a fervor. I sighed and ran a hand over my face, trying to wake up. This wasn’t a fight I wanted to have with my neighbors, and it was only a few minutes before my alarm was going to wake me up anyway. I grabbed his leash and begrudgingly let Byron pull me to the front door.
As soon as we got outside, Byron’s mood shifted. He relaxed and began walking at a normal pace. The sun wasn’t quite out yet, but the streetlamps cast the neighborhood in light bright enough to see the sidewalk and its surroundings. I shivered in my t-shirt and shorts. It had been warm yesterday, but today was a few degrees cooler. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it would've been nice to have a sweater or some pants. I walked briskly to warm up some. I could feel the chill air entering my lungs. It felt crisp and alive.
We stopped to watch the sun rise. Normally I saw it from my window and thought little of it, but this morning’s was especially vivid. It was a deep red, like blood rising over the horizon. I brought out my phone to take a picture, but it didn’t look the same through the camera lens. It was less alive, less vibrant.
When we neared the end of our walk, Byron slowed down. He dragged his paws and whined.
“Byron, I took you on an early morning walk. You can’t complain now. We’re going inside. I haven’t even gotten to drink any coffee, and I can feel a headache starting.” Byron howled, loud and clear to wake the surrounding houses. “Byron! You need to shut up. What is up with you today?” I dragged Byron by the leash to the house and unlocked the door.
As the door opened, I felt a sense of unease wash over me. Did I leave something running that I shouldn’t have? I hadn’t used any appliances. I had the strong sense that I was forgetting something, that the atmosphere was off, like the balance had been shifted ever so slightly. Byron whined and hid behind my legs, and for a second I had the strange notion that I should hide too. Then it passed, and I realized that I should really have my morning coffee.
Shutting a very upset Byron in the house and cursing the fact that my neighbors were most likely going to slap a passive aggressive note in my mailbox, I checked the time and set about getting my coffee. Byron was running around the house like a madman, barking nonstop. I just ignored him, hoping he would calm down. When he didn’t, I dragged him into the bathroom for time out. I was about to shut the door when he nipped at me, furiously fighting to get out.
“No, bad dog! Sit.” Byron didn’t sit. He jumped onto me with enough force to knock me over if I hadn’t been leaning against the doorframe. He barked louder. It was frantic. The barks didn’t have any rhythm to them; they were just spilling out of his mouth as fast as he could manage.
“Calm down!” I yelled, trying to think of what could be aggravating him. I forced him into the bathroom and slammed the door. I could hear his paws scratching at the door as he continued to bark. He’d never acted like this before. He’d caused a bit of trouble when I’d first gotten him, but nothing this extreme.
Either way, I didn’t have time to worry about that right now. I had to get ready for the day and focus on work. After a few minutes, the barking stopped, but he continued to scratch on the bathroom door until I let him out.
When I got home that day, I stood in front of the door for a few seconds, frozen. A foreboding feeling was swirling around in my stomach, a tiny thought curdled with far too much time to dwell on it. What if Byron had been trying to warn me of something? Byron had seemed adamant that we don’t go inside. I’d had the feeling earlier that something was off. No- I was being silly. All I needed was to go inside, relax, watch some TV, and treat myself to the cupcakes I’d bought at the store yesterday. Still, I couldn’t quite shake off that strange dread.
I opened the door and was met with Byron lunging outside. He sprinted into the corner of the yard and started barking. Fear coiled in my brain, but I didn’t know why I was afraid. Maybe Byron was just having an allergic reaction to something in the house. That seemed highly unlikely, but I couldn’t think of anything else that would explain his behavior. I would take him to the vet tomorrow, and they would know what to do.
I pushed past the strange apprehension and walked into my house. Byron could stay outside for now if he wanted to. I went to the coathook in the corner and took off my sweater. Strangely enough, it had gotten colder all day until it practically seemed like early winter.
As I was walking towards the living room, I saw something move in my peripherals. I turned my head, but there was nothing there, just the empty floor. I shook it off and went to relax on the couch. I was just paranoid from Byron acting crazy.
I was taken out of my phone induced stupor when it started to drizzle outside. I raised my head to glance out the window. As I moved, the corner of the room seemed to shift as well. I whipped my head around, but there was nothing there. I squinted into the walls, trying to see if I could catch anything that could’ve been mistaken for movement. The more I stared at the corner, the more the shadows seemed to thicken and settle. It was as if they were growing out of cracks in the walls. They almost looked like I could grab them and pull them apart; they seemed like they’d be the consistency of putty.
Byron was perfectly content outside from what I could see out the window. It was overcast and strangely gloomy, but he ran in circles playing with one of his toys. I turned back to my phone to detach from all of the work stress and Byron’s strange behavior today. I’d look at openings for the vet tomorrow morning.
After some time had passed, I got up to get ready for bed and let Byron in. It was dark outside, and the drizzle had turned to a downpour. Glancing out the window, Byron still seemed okay being outside. It was getting late, though.
As I crossed the room, the shadows moved. I froze. Was that what I saw earlier? I watched in growing horror as the shadows flickered and curled inwards like small flames. Lightning flashed outside, thunder boomed, and then the power went out. The only light was from the window, casting a pale glow as the wind suddenly rose to a howl. The shadows were everywhere. I started to run, but they bled from the walls and reached for my feet. They slithered up my legs as I was held in place. They weren't solid, more like a mist, but they had enough substance to grab me. I opened my mouth to scream, but the shadows filled it, choking me. I tried to breathe in, but there was an absence of air. All I inhaled was the taste of dampness. The last thing I remembered was hearing Byron barking louder than the sonorous thunder.
