Past 12 midnight found me in front of the door of our house, waiting for whoever was on the other side to open it for me. I didn’t have a copy of the key to our house and usually relied on one thing: calling out to someone, anyone to open the door for me
I was too tired to notice it but when the door opened, our dog wasn’t anywhere near. If I had the presence of mind to notice that odd fact, I would’ve asked my father (who opened the front door for me) where the dog was, since our exasperating and hard-headed but lovable pet is usually there to greet me every time I come home from work. The only time she didn’t come greet me was when she was sick and could not even walk properly. That was the first and only time. Until that night…
The moment I stepped into our dining area, my mother immediately asked me if I’d noticed that Sable (the dog) wasn’t with my dad when he opened the front door. I told her oh yeah, she wasn’t anywhere near. Is she sick? And this is the tale my mother recounted:
The moment Sable heard me opening the gate to our house, she looked out the window and then sprang into action. With her tail wagging excitedly, she made her way toward the front hallway, following my dad. She was about to walk ahead when something stopped her. She literally skidded to a stop. In the middle of running she tried to stop her body. She was looking at the direction of where my dad was standing. And my mom (who was a few feet behind the dog) heard Sable let out a loud, chilling cry and a pitiful whimper, with her tail going down between her legs. And the nutty, baffling part was how she tried so hard to run back to our room. But she was apparently too distressed and freaked out that she started to walk backwards, her gaze still on the same spot (near this cabinet made of wood with mirrors as doors). She continued to cry out and whimper until she went back to our room.
Minutes later, I used KFC’s chicken to coax and bribe the dog to go back outside to the dining area but to no avail. She just sat on the bed, looking nervously at the doorway and then whimpering again. All throughout the night, she avoided going near the dining area. And the next day as well.
I wonder what scared our dog. She’s a ten month old Labrador-Rottweiler breed, large and black. She’s fiercely protective and would bark and lunge at any stranger who dares step into our house. But whatever she’d seen? It was enough to turn her into a whimpering puppy. I’m guessing that what she saw was not the usual white lady or black lady or a child ghost. No. It probably looked more horrific than that. I’m thinking creatures. I’m thinking something short with thin but gangly arms and legs and a scrunched up, warped face. Eyes red and round and abnormally large. Barely there nose. Thin lips that when stretched into a grin shows sharp, uneven teeth. Rotting skin. Not a spirit but an entity, a creature of the dark. One which lives inside old trees or under the earth. It’s probably the same creature my sister once saw in our house… And it was enough to scare the living daylights out of her.
image source: Robb North