200 Words at a Time: Continued

Part 2– of someone else’s story.  Murgatroid98’s, to be exact!  Part 1 is theirs. See the original here. For Chuck Wendig’s 200 Words at a Time 5 week challenge! For those of you interested in how the story I started turned out, has continued it here!

(1)

The Jacksons, Ed and Marnie, had been away for two months and no one in the neighborhood had heard from them. Everyone assumed they were still traveling across the country to celebrate Marnie’s retirement. Lena held her breath as she approached the driveway. She had noticed the stench during her morning walk. Something dead. An animal perhaps, a large one by the smell. Plenty of feral cats lived and died in the area. Coyotes, too. Burying the poor thing, whatever it was, seemed kinder than leaving it to rot and stink.

A glistening wetness oozed from under the door as the odor became almost tangible. She gagged. Maggots. Her stomach roiled as she backed away, stumbling onto the lawn. She bent over and heaved onto the grass, gasping for an untainted breath. As she stood back up, she noticed that the front door was slightly ajar.

Lena moved slowly to the door to peek through the crack and listen. Dim light filtered through the curtains into the living room. She pushed the door open and froze, stench and maggots forgotten. Horror and relief fought for dominance, because what lay on the carpeted floor was not one of the Jacksons.

(2)

It was a dog.  A huge dog, a

(wolf)

husky, maybe, in such a state of decay Lena guessed it must have died around the time the Jacksons had disappeared.  Lena strained to remember if the Jacksons had ever had a dog.  She didn’t think she’d ever seen one; but she’d never been very close to the Jacksons.  They could have kept a dog inside, or in the backyard.  Maybe it was—had been—a good dog.  A quiet dog.

Lena knew moving closer was a bad idea, but her curiosity refused to take no for an answer.  She leaned towards the corpse and immediately had to fight the hot acid rise at the back of her throat.  The dog’s belly had been torn open.  The ragged wound gaped blackly, more black slime pooling from the wound.  Farther back in the dark wound, there was the hint of movement.  More maggots.

Staggering back towards the door, Lena sucked in great breaths of fresh air.

She glanced back over her shoulder and immediately regretted it.  From the dark interior of the house, the yellowed fangs of the dog smiled back at her, lips drawn back by rot and dehydration.

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2 Comments

  1. I love this. There are no words for my loving this.

    Reply
  1. 200 Words: The Final Edition | Send More Braaaains!

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