flavor. For a girl who grew up on seafood and cans of spam most of her life, I actually have a fairly picky palate. Gourmet food is something new to me. Something I’ll have to get used to while living here.
Movement in my periphery draws my attention, and I slowly turn my head to where an enormous figure sits off to the side, watching me. A black, beastly animal that looks like a dog and a horse had a baby sits on its haunches, staring at me. Its head is level with mine. Meaning it could lean in and chew my face off, if it felt so inclined.
A monster.
My muscles turn rigid. My jaw stiff.
Slowly, so as not to set it off into attack mode, I look around for a master, anyone who might claim ownership of this thing, but it’s just me and the beast.
Staring at one another.
“Um. Hi.”
Its ear twitches as it slides its gaze toward my plate. A long string of drool falls from its chops, and only when I lift my fork does the animal break its stare to look up at me, though only for a second, or two, before returning its attention to my food.
At least there’s enough chicken on my plate to maybe afford me a few minutes to reach the door, before it can tear after me and make me its next meal.
“Do you … um. Like chicken?” So as not to draw too much attention, I slide my hand into my lap to grab the napkin there, and more drool oozes from the dog’s mouth. A downward glance shows a tiny pool of it on the floor in front of its enormous paw. Jesus. Like a lion’s paw.
With as much subtlety as I can muster, given the tremble running through me, I set the napkin onto the table, not bothering to look where, and pat around until my fingertips hit the wet meat on my plate.
“Let’s just … see if this will buy me some time. Okay?”
My muscles spring on instinct, and I toss the chicken to the dog, who makes a snorting sound as he catches it midair. Not a second later, he straightens again, tongue sweeping over his jowls, eyes locked on my plate.
“Did you even taste that?” I could set the plate down and run, or leave it on the table and hope the scramble to get to it affords me extra time. Doesn’t look like it’ll buy me much, considering this beast just scarfed down a chunk like it was air.
The fork clinks against the china as I lower the plate to the floor, noting the unwavering attention of the dog staring down at the food once it’s set before him. He doesn’t make a move, though. Only a quick glance up at me breaks his concentration before he goes back to staring down at the food.
Like he’s waiting for something.
I take the opportunity to slide out of my chair, pushing to my feet. Still, the dog doesn’t go after the plate of gourmet chicken I’ve just offered him. Hoping that’ll buy me a few extra seconds, I back slow and easy toward the other end of the dining table.
An endless strand of drool hangs like a shimmering cable from the dog’s mouth, but for some reason, it won’t. Touch. The food.
“What the hell are you waiting for? Eat!”
As soon as the words pass my lips, the dog lunges for the plate like it’s in a hurry, its body poised to run as soon as every bite of chicken is gone. Taking the cue, I spin on my heel, and race out of the room and down the hallway.
The surrounding darkness conceals the path ahead, and for a moment, I’ve lost my bearings in this house. Momentary brainless with fear thrumming through my veins--not a good combination.
Any second now, that beast is going to come plowing through the dining area, looking for me. Why the hell would they let it roam unattended?
I search the obscure walls for something familiar to help lead me back to my room, and when I dare a backward glance, I see the dog barreling straight for me.
“Oh, my God!” The air withers in my chest as I force speed from my legs, and when I look back again, the damn beast has already gained on me, hoofing it on all fours.
It’s going to maul me right here in this hallway.
The staff are going to come back tomorrow morning to find my body