Dog Hunt, by Sam Bame

 “Snoopi! Snoopi! Come on, Snoopi!” Emily yelled after her favorite puppy, wandering down a winding path in the woods. Where could he have gone? Emily huffed and puffed, ready for a tantrum. How dare Snoopi run off on her? Her child-like steps slowly morphed into angry stomps as the forest around her watched her performance.

 

Suddenly, a large cabin appeared in her way, looming over her petite body. The loud, high-pitched yips pulled her from her angry reverie, reminding her of her duty. Cautiously, and with as much bravery as an 8-year-old could muster, Emily walked towards the door.

 

The door creaked open, silencing Snoopi’s yips. Worried, Emily called out to him. “Snoopi! Where are you?” No answer.

 

Sniffling, she ventured forth. The air was stale, like her basement at home. Naturally, it was just as creepy. The furniture was covered with white sheets and spider webs decorated every crevice.  The sun fought its way through the windows, battling the darkness for territory.

 

Every room was empty, save for the bats and rats that scurried around. Emily was starting to lose hope, but she had one more room to check. With trembling hand, she turned the knob. The door was heavy, so she pushed her entire body up against it.

 

A blinding light restricted her vision, stifling heat causing her breath to hitch. When her eyes adjusted, she saw first a large fireplace with a pot. A pot that held Snoopi. The noise that escaped her throat was barely construed as human, and she sprouted instant tears of frustration.

 

“Oh, my dear,” said a crackling voice, “I am so sorry. I had no idea the dog was yours.”

 

Emily sniffled, snot mingling with her tears. “Can I have him back?” she asked, starting to hiccup.

 

The voice paused. “No.” Emily hardly noticed the light fleeing into the fine air becoming heavier and heavier. “But I can have you!”

 

A scream, darkness. The only sound left was the crackling of a fire. The decaying cabin bled into the shadows, waiting for its next victim.