The streetlight hit Chase’s face when he neared. “This is the dog?” he asked, looking down at the beast in disbelief.
“I know,” I murmured, rising back up to my feet. “It’s huge. Now let’s get it inside.”
Chase frowned but nodded.
While I wasn’t looking, the dog had fallen unconscious again. Chase rolled it onto its stomach and, taking a deep breath, lifted it.
Or tried to.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he let the dog go, stepping back, his chest heaving. “How much does this fucker weigh?”
My eyes widened. “Don’t you lift, like, hundreds of pounds on a regular basis?”
My neighbor glared at me. “I do,” he spat, “but this one is even heavier than that. Damn.” He scrunched his nose. “It hurts my pride.”
Since Chase’s only sources of pride were his bodybuilder muscles, it made sense. “Maybe we can call Jackson?” I suggested, uneasy now, especially since the slight fall from Chase’s arms made the dog’s bleeding worsen.
“I’ll call him,” Chase replied, hissing a curse before he called another friendly neighbor from the top floor.
A few minutes later, Chase and Jackson, a fit man in his early sixties, carried the dog inside the building and up the flight of stairs to my apartment.
Throughout the whole ordeal, they contorted their faces and strained their muscles as if the weight was far more than they could bear—which was extremely surreal to witness, considering both sported quite the muscular frame. Especially Chase.
But soon those thoughts fled my mind as I shoved the door to my apartment open, watching the two men entering quickly with the dog and the trail of blood the poor animal left in its wake. I immediately switched on the lights before kicking the door closed and instructing, “Spread that blanket on the sofa and put the dog there.”
My apartment might’ve been on the smaller side, but somehow, with the two large men and the huge dog, it suddenly felt claustrophobically tiny, especially with the blood and shoe prints covering the papers on the floor.
The dog barely fit on the blanketed sofa, and in the bright lights of the living room, I could finally make out the color of its fur—a dark, burnished bronze, which stood out strikingly against the faded green cushions of the sofa.
For the first time since I found it, I thought the dog was absolutely, tragically beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful dog I had ever seen, even. The realization would’ve struck me dumb if it weren’t for the fact the dog was continuing to bleed without an end in sight.
While Chase and Jackson plopped themselves on empty spots on the floor and the old couch respectively, fighting to catch their breath, I hurried to the kitchen, got the first aid kit, and returned to the living room, opening it over the coffee table. I found bandages, and, before I could think twice about it, I began dressing the dog’s wound.
I had to use the entire bandage roll before the blood stopped soaking through.
“Fuck,” I breathed out as I sat down on the floor, sweating from the exertion.
“Well,” I heard Jackson murmur, “I always said your curiosity will one day bring upon your doom.”
I huffed, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “This is notmydoom, though.”
“No, it’s mine,” Jackson sighed, and when I turned my head to the middle-aged man, he gave me a bemused smile as he grabbed his waist, seemingly in pain from the effort. “You got something to read while I rest?”
I was about to reply when Chase snorted and interjected, “I wouldn’t recommend it, Jack.The Hallowing Houris hardly a literary read. Unless you want to dive into another one of dear Drew’s conspiracy theories.”
If I’d had the energy, I would’ve glared at him, but I was used to Chase’s jibes, and not just his either. Everyone thought I was a complete kook, writing about the supernatural.
What none of them understood was that Iknewall of it to be true. Like I knew that puddle of water on Sunset Boulevard was in fact a shadow mark. Like I knew the Seaside Massacre in Malibu a couple of months ago was perpetrated by ghouls, and that the disappearances of young boys up in Portland were the result of succubus attacks.
The supernatural was real.
I just wished I wasn’t the only one aware of that fact.
Chapter 2
A Warped Wound
You’ve probably already read the headlines.