By Ian Luke

I wanted to make sure the house was empty. As night fell and neighbouring houses werelit from within, number 53 stayed dark. Staying in the shadows, I skirted the front of the house, moving down the sideway, and found a convenient window facing the backyard.

Cupping my hand against the glass, I peered in. I made out furniture, and nothing else. Not a sound reached my ears, so I decided it was safe.

forced the window and with no alarm sounding, climbed in. I made my way through the room and into a hallway. Once in the hallway, I had the feeling that eyes were upon me. Turning, I found myself staring at glistening white teeth. They seemed to be about a metre away, floating in the darkness, about two and a half feet off the floor.

A low growl reached my ears as I started to move back through the door, trying not to hurry, trying to stay calm. Hoping to make a peaceful exit, I made a slow turn.

I was out of luck.

As I turned, a blast of bad breath caught me. It was followed by those gleaming teeth, as they ripped through the seat of my pants and latched onto flesh. The shock of it made my teeth clamp down on my tongue, and a warm saltiness filled my mouth.

Grabbing the doorway, I tried to force my way through it. The dog stayed silent. It’s feet scrabbled on the carpet, and I had the curious thought it was playing a tug of war game, with my butt cheek as the prize.

Reaching behind me, my fist flailed at its head, but I kept missing. The more I tried to rid myself of the dog, the harder it fought to hold on, at times shaking its head. It wasn’t trying to maul me, it was simply determined to hold me.

As it shook its head, seeking to maintain its grip, it shook me, and I felt flesh tear.

“Oh shit”, I gasped. “Let go, you bastard”. It stopped shaking me, but it didn’t let go. “Drop it”, I tried. And got no reaction.

Lights lit the hallway as a car turned into the driveway. In the brief glow, I saw a large Rottweiler sitting behind the Rottweiler holding me, silently watching, as though waiting its turn.

Somewhere in the front of the house, a door opened. From the darkness behind me came a deep, ominous bark. I felt teeth retract from flesh, and a second bark echoed down the hall. I scrambled, trying to slam shut the door and at the same time reach the window. As the door latched, it shuddered as two heavy objects hit it.

A cacophony of barking started, and a man’s voice told the dogs to be quiet.

I fell out of the window. The leg of my pants was dripping and my leg refused to work as I tried to sprint away.

Light cascaded from the forced window, and a voice called “Stop there, or I’ll let the dogs out.”

My legs struggled to hold me upright. Raising my hands, I stopped. I hadn’t even made it ten feet from the house.