by Derek Hamilton
Edgar came home from work – the same as every day. When he got out of his truck and shambled to his front door, he noticed something out of the ordinary. His dog Chuck had a hold of a small, shiny, brass button and was happily chewing away at it. Edgar didn’t recognize it from his wardrobe, and he wasn’t sure where ‘ol Chuck had managed to find it. Then again, he didn’t care to think too much of it.
The next day, Edgar came home to another surprise on his porch. Chuck had a hold of an old, dirty, leather shoe and was joyously chomping on the laces. Edgar tugged the shoe out of Chuck’s mouth only to discover he had never seen this shoe before, and didn’t own a pair even closely resembling it. Edgar didn’t know what to make of it. He thought it was strange, but he also figured it didn’t require any more of his time or energy to investigate.
The next day, Edgar came home to yet another surprise on his porch. Chuck had a hold of a tattered, shabby, stained scrap of cloth and was blissfully gnawing on the corner. When Edgar was able to wrestle the cloth out of Chuck’s grip, he thought the stains looked a lot like dried blood. He didn’t know where Chuck was acquiring his newfound treasures, but now Edgar was determined to find out.
The next morning, he let Chuck out for his usual trek around the yard. Edgar decided to trail his dog, but wanted to keep his distance to avoid distracting Chuck on his new mysterious routine. After circling the house, sniffing around the barn, and tracing the fence line, Edgar was starting to think this was all a big waste of time. That’s when good ‘ol Chuck sat down at the gap in the fence and stared out into the woods.
He sat there intently for nearly five minutes while Edgar thought about how he could have spent the day doing anything else and it would have been more productive than what was taking place right now.
Just then, Edgar heard a faint whistle from the tree line. Chuck’s ears perked up as he popped up in a flash and trotted over to the woods, slipping out of view under the greenery. Edgar hustled over to the tree line to catch up with the mutt.
Edgar peeked through the foliage to find Chuck on the other side of a tree stump, triumphantly munching on a bone. His first reaction was to get him to drop it – who knows what animal that came from, or where that thing has been?
Well, the answer came quicker than Edgar had expected. When he was a few steps away from Chuck, he heard the whistle again. It was the same whistle that called them into the woods, only this time it was right behind Edgar. He slowly turned and saw something leaning against the tree stump.
It looked like a woman in most regards, but she was more skeleton than person. Her leathery skin draped over her bones, poking up in rigid forms. What little flesh she had left was hanging black and rotten. Her skin peeled away in chunks to reveal the viscous meat below. She was hunched over on one knee because her missing leg rested in the paws of good ‘ol Chuck, gnashing the hell out of that bone.
“He’s a good boy,” the stranger hissed in a scratchy voice.
“But you shouldn’t let him wander off alone – it’s dangerous in these woods…”
Edgar wanted to run, but he couldn’t. The stranger lunged at him, knocked him to the ground, and bit him in the throat – latching her decrepit teeth into his soft flesh. Her jaw locked on so tight that it made tiny popping noises as her molars dislodged from her mandible.
Edgar didn’t even have time to scream. The blood was erupting from his neck, spritzing the surrounding vegetation with vibrant red splotches. He quietly choked and gasped; slowly drowning in his own blood.
Chuck eagerly nibbled on the bone without a care in the world – treasuring every bit of sinew he could retrieve from its core.
“Such a good boy…”