Hi-ho and hello.
Let me tell you a story.
My buddy and I, we were coming back from Vegas, both a little inebriated, both very tired, very hungry, and needing a bed. But Russ was too fixated on getting back home, he wanted to be with his girl. Felt that going to Vegas betrayed her and he couldn’t do with that. So we found ourselves heading up route 66 and happened to be hitting New Mexico before, well before it came.
The thing is, New Mexico has spirits, and the blood of many lost in the soil. I was well aware of this and crossed my fingers and toes; Russ, not so much. He was a type of ‘I need proof’ son of a b****.
I knew better though and kept my foot on the pedal as often as I could. I didn’t look in my mirrors, but I did tell Russ to keep an eye out, in case the cops wanted to tag us. We drove on.
Dusk was quickly approaching. Russ needed to piss, I was getting hungry and there was rumor Lottaburger was only miles up the road. I shouldn’t have, I know that now, but I digress, we stopped for a quick bite and filled up on gas. I drained myself after grubbing and told Russ he’d better do the same if he knew better. He didn’t, mind you.
We jumped back in the truck and headed up Route 66. He couldn’t help himself though, Russ started crooning for his Mrs. Lamenting in his woes of his betrayal to her he started blaming my impulse as a toxic trait. I told him to shut up and keep an eye out, I was going 20 over already and wanted to get home too, knowing something was in the air.
We continued driving, turned up the radio and enjoyed the winter chill in the air as we drove on.
We talked of our ladies, of his guilt for Vegas, my hankering for another drink, and the wanting of a warm bed. We both moaned at the words bed and started laughing loudly when Russ went white like a sheet and stared straight out the front of the truck.
I asked what had happened, he just shook his head and leaned forward meaning to crane his neck away from anything but the front of the truck. I had a eerie feeling that we were being watched.
I refused to look at the mirrors, and kept my eyes straight following the example set by Russ.
What is it? I asked. Shook his head, and maintained sealed lips. I began to scream at him to tell me what it is. And I s*** you’re not I swear I started seeing tears slow down his cheeks. I took to the looking at the mirror, my foot pushed through the pedal I had every intention of making it home alive.
What happened to be behind us was a white dog, standing on its hind legs running and almost matching speed with us. My blood curdled, my skin felt as though it was peeling off and I took began to weep. I couldn’t let off the gas. And seeing the large dog like a feral monstrous beast barring down on us had me entirety tight and quivering.
What do we do? Russ asked screaming, what the f*** are we going to do? I didn’t have an answer, I had no idea what to do I looked at him shook my head, press my foot as hard as I can against the floor of the truck and didn’t look back.
We drove like bats out of hell in record time making it back home within hours.
Russ and I both looked at each other once we pulled up to the house, look behind us, and saw nothing. We sat there dumbfounded, absolutely sure that we had both seen a giant white dog running on its hind legs. And even still as I tell this story my gut sinks, my skin crawls, my blood curdles, because the fact of the matter is it was an omen. That white dog was the worst omen when could ever face. Death.
I told Russ it’s nothing, told him it’s just the internet, I told him it was our imagination, playing tricks on us in our drunken stupor.
He died yesterday.
C’est La Vie
Dream Dark Stories 