A Story by ShatteredDreams

"You're not human, are you, Elizabeth?"

I looked up a foot into John's eyes, expecting loathing, condemnation, repulsion. But there was none of that. Just worry and gentleness. "No," I said softly, "not anymore."

The question was clear in his expression, even if he didn't ask it. He was forcing himself not to ask. But I answered it anyway. "I'm a dog shape-shifter. Not werewolf. Dog. beagle or pug or german shepard."  And then I started to morph.


"Hey, Elizab***h," a deep voice came from behind me.  I dropped my gaze down to the dirt path and kept walking through the rain to go home. If you could call it a home.  "We have something to show you."  There were a few evil cackles from  his friends.  Like it was funny.  I gritted my teeth and kept ignoring them, forcing myself to keep my canines from growing several inches.

'Focus on something innocent....something calm.......something soothing....' I told myself.

And I did, blocking out everything except the cool drops of water landing on my skin. At least, until heavy, hot, strong hands grasped my forearms and wrenched them behind my back.

A shudder ran down my spine, wanting me to drop to all fours.  I forced it back, forced it to stop and pushed all thoughts of gripping his neck with a pit bull's strong jaw and feeling the warm, sweet, addicting blood run down my throat.  I took a few deep breaths and kicked him in the shin.

He didn't pay it any attention, however, and just twisted me around to see them all: Steven, James, and Paul. Then of course, there was Luke himself.  The one holding me.  They all made my already ruined life a living hell.

Then I noticed James holding a brown burlap bag.  My shoulders sagged.  What was it now-- my diary? The paintings I worked so hard on?  Were they going to shred them before my very eyes? But then it moved, like something was in it.  Maybe it was rats. Rats would be better than some of the things Luke had done to me.

"Here, Steven," Luke said from above my head.  "You take the b***h. I want to see her face."  Steven got a reluctant look on his face.  He was always the nicer one of the four.  He gingerly took my arms as Luke let go and circled back in front of me.

"Since we've noticed how much you like dogs," Luke sneered at me, his hot breath too close to my face, "we've brought one for you to watch us play with."

Then, James, with a wicked smile on his face, reached into the bag.  Dread filled my stomach. Oh no. Oh no. They couldn't be doing this...

He pulled a scrawny, white and brown puppy out by the scruff of her neck.  Sheila.  My baby Sheila.  She whimpered, her frightened brown eyes looking at me.  My knees shook in terror for her. I would've collapsed if Steven wasn't holding me up.  Sheila was begging me to help.  But I could barely even move in fear.

Luke spoke again.  "And since you don't seem to respond well to anything we do to you, we're trying a different tactic." He looked over at Paul and James.  "You two ready?"

Paul pulled a glass bottle from the bag James was still holding.  Oh no. Oh no.  My heart hammered in my chest and sweat mingled with the rain drops pouring off my body.  He smashed he bottom off on the ground, leaving ragged, sharp shards.  I cringed back from the harsh sound of shattering glass, and Luke laughed at my expression.

As James heaved Sheila up into the air, I yelled for the first time in my life, "Wait! Please! NO!!"

Sheila slammed against a tree, her yelps mixing with my screams.  She slid down the trunk, just like in comics, only this wasn't funny.  This was cruel and horrible.  She tried to stagger to her feet to escape, but James lunged forward and grabbed her, pinning her to the ground.

"Stop! Stop!" I screamed, struggling against Steven, tears streaming down my face, as Paul stepped threateningly toward Sheila, holding the broken bottle aloft.  He paused--thankfully--at hearing that and looked toward Luke for wether or not he should continue. After all, they got what they wanted--to hear my screaming.

"You know what?" Luke said, looking up and down my short body, from my snarled, wet, over long hair, to my clenched, bare toes. "I don't think we will stop.  I kind of like hearing you scream." He gestured at Paul to continue.

Paul brought his arm down.  There was a sickening thump as glass met flesh.  Sheila wailed in pain, then fell silent as the next blow struck her head, knocking her out.  Blood ran in tiny rivelets from the cuts from the glass. Luke laughed.

"NO!" I screamed.  They couldn't be doing this to her.  My baby.  My baby Sheila.  Rage filled me, flooding my veins with icy fire.  I couldn't fight it.  I didn't want to fight it.  My vision clouded red.  My jaw ached as my teeth elongated and sharpened to vicious points.  Claws replaced fingers.  My skin prickled as fur sprouted in clumps all over my hunching body.  I only half-changed, because I was stronger that way, with the power of both dog and human in me.

They were not going to hurt my baby.  I'd make sure of it.

Before Paul could bring his arm down again, I wrenched free from Steven, slamming him against a tree.  I lunged forward at Paul, animal rage, animal hatred, taking over my body and mind.  A howling roar slipped from my muzzle.  I didn't think anything, didn't feel anything, except a burning desire to rip Paul's throat out.

Flesh ripped, bones cracked, blood spilled.  I couldn't control myself.  Blood filled my mouth, blinded me, enticed me to keep going.  There were screams. Screams of rage from me; screams of terror from Paul and James and Steven.

Their hearts had finished beating.  I could hear it.  I could smell it.  I could sense it.  But... But there was still another pumping heart that needed to be stopped.

I swung my animal head around, knowing where it was.  Where he was.  Luke was cowering against a tree.  He stared at me wide-eyed as I slunk towards him.  The smell of urine and fear filled my nostrils, raw and wretched on his skin.

As I slowly drew closer, he shrunk back farther.  With one claw-hand, I reached out to press the sharp tips against his cheek.  He let out a hoarse, frightened shout.

I dragged my claws down from his face along his neck and collarbone.  I positioned them exactly above where his thumping heart was in his chest.  I could reach right through him and pull out the heart, if I wanted to.  "What's it feel like?" I snarled, leaning up to make our faces as close as possible. "What's it feel like to be powerless? To be the one being hurt?  To be the one who is teetering on the brink of death?  Death by the one you've always held down?  I could kill you, you know."  For emphasis on my words, I pushed on his chest, just enough to make drops of blood start forming.

Power flooded through me, at his expression.  He was terrified, and he knew what I could do.  He'd just witnessed it.  I could take him.  In all my 16 years, I was the one being threatened, pushed around, tormented.  But not now. Not anymore.  Now I felt in control.  Now I am in control.  And  I like it like that.

I pushed harder, until blood was streaming steadily from the four holes in his chest.  He screamed. And screamed.  "Please! Stop!"  The exact words I wanted to hear.

"You know what?" I asked, looking him up and down, from his touseled brown hair to his boot clad feet, mimicking him.  "I don't think I will stop. I kind of like hearing you scream."

"You...You...YOU MONSTER!" Luke sputtered.

"No. I'm not the monster," I smiled tightly at him. "You are."  And then  I plunged my fist into his chest, crushing the rib bone to get it out of the way.  Blood gushed down my arm.  Luke's screams grew deafeningly loud.  My hand wrapped around his heart.  The firm muscle pulsed gently in my grip. Luke's eyes were glazing over and the screams were beginning to fade.  He was probably almost dead.

I ripped the heart roughly from it's attatching arteries and pulled it out into the chill night.  After contemplating it and the raindrops cleaning it for a second, I wrenched open Luke's mouth and shoved his heart inside.  He gagged for a moment, then slumped over, dead.

Looking at Luke disgustedly, I stepped back.   There was a gaping hole in his chest, his face was contorted in pain and hate and repulsion, and there was a part of an artery dangling from the corner of his mouth.  I turned around, feeling a strange mix of pride at my bravery and nausea at the gruesomness of it all.

Sheila was lying limp in the midst of what looke like a warzone.  Limbs were scattered everywhere, drenched in blood.  I ran over to her to see how badly she was hurt.

She had multiple cuts and severe bruises, but other than that and maybe a hurt skull, she was fine.  Taking off my now tattered shirt, I made a soft carry sack for her. I cuddled her close to my face.  She blinked dazedly up at me, then licked my nose.  A giggle escaped my lips.  My baby would be fine.

"Elizabeth?" John's voice came from behind me. It was filled with worry and fear.  Oh, no. I didn't want him to see me like this...after that.  "I heard something like screams and I came..." he trailed of as he looked around and saw.  I turned around and faced him after setting Sheila on the ground.

He gasped at all the blood and the sight of Luke.  He nearly fainted.  I leaped forward to steady him, but he pulled away, looking at me, repulsed and horrified.

"What did you do, Elizabeth Heartnet? WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"They were gonna kill Sheila. I gave them warning, they didn't listen, so I stopped them." I shrugged my bare shoulders and looked up at John imploringly.  He would understand.  He always did.  Always.  But then why was he backing away from me?

"Wait, John--"

"No." John cut me off. "Get away from me, you freak."

Then I was on all fours without even realizing it, howling in pain.  "I hate you!" I cried through my snout, even though he couldn't understand. "You said you understand!  I HATE YOU!"

I lunged forward, teeth bared.  I pushed John backward with large black paws, so he was on the ground.  My teeth scrabbled to get a good grip on his neck as he kicked and shoved.  He could never get me off once I got a hold.

"Elizabeth," he moaned, when my teeth found a spot to clamp around his wind pipe.  "You can't do this to me. You love me."

"Not anymore," I growled through the blood and flesh in my mouth.  "And I can do whatever I want to whoever I want, John.  You can't control me."

My crushing grip on him didn't loosen until he ceased fighting, ceased breathing, ceased to keep his heart beating.  I turned back into my human self and leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips.  My fingers slid up  and down his chest and stomach, his back, his legs and face, memorizing his body and the way he felt.  I brushed his dark hair from his forehead, closed his gaping green eyes and kissed him once more.

I stood up on my two legs, picked up Sheila, took one last look around at the carnage and ran as fast as I could away from there.  Tears filled my eyes, threatening to spill over, at the realization of what I had done.  Then Sheila squirmed slightly and I looked down at her sleeping peacefully in my arms.

It was worth it.


© 2009 ShatteredDreams

Author's Note

This is my ultimate horror story...being forced to see my dog get beat up in front of me...sorry if you don't find it that scary...

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oh my god that was amazing
yes it was scary i crying because it soooo sad

Posted 12 Years Ago

That was horrifying. I loved it! And thank you for doing it for my contest. It was a really great write. I saw everything happening, I saw shelia and Elizabeth, John and the rest of them. Seeing her rip his heart right out of his chest like modo combat. Lol. It was a fantastic write keep it up. It was wonderful. And really scary.

Posted 12 Years Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on June 17, 2009
Last Updated on June 17, 2009




I'm a veggie. I like to write (really?), read, listen to music, garden and a whole bunch of other stuff. I'm not really quite sure what more to say. more..

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