May 26, 2006

Demon in the Dark

"Sheba's crying," the voice announced somewhere from outside the dark room he was in. He struggled to wakefulness and looked at the luminescing hands of the chronograph on his wrist.

3:15. The storm outside had blown through, and darkness still enveloped the room.

The dog, which had been struggling for the past few days with an intestinal disorder, wanted to go outside. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to clear the sleep from his head.

"Is this from your neck?" she asked.

He looked down and to the right, where his upper torso had been only moments before. It was black against the lighter colored sheet, moving, flopping around ... from his neck?! It was alien-looking, moving, writhing back toward him, obviously not done doing what it had been doing to him, seeking him out once more.

What is that? he asked, trying to control the terror rising within him, but losing his grip, mind searching to put the flopping form into some sensical, worldly category of a type of being that wasn't trying to feed on him; but it brought Star Trek to mind, Captain Picard, to be exact, with Borg implements affixed to his face. Panic rose.

"What?" she asked.

"What is it?" he cried out again, his voice quivering, hoping against all hope that it could at least be killed before it could satisfy its alien hunger, as it crawled, pulsing, toward him. He should grab it and dash it to the floor before it could get to him again or just smash it right there on the bed.

"A bandanna, maybe?" she said, calmly.

Reality smacked him up side his head, jolting him awake. "Oh, yeah. Scout's bandanna ..." he pointed out, recalling that the beagle had been given a present by her groomer.

"What did you think it was?" she asked; and he hoped that she wouldn't add, "You sounded terrified," but she did.

"Umm, I thought it was alive, the way it was moving," he pointed out.

"I had it in my hand, silly," she said.

"I have to get Sheba outside," he said, afraid that her laughter might wake the neighbors.

Posted by Bill at May 26, 2006 04:45 AM
Comments

When I first read that I thought you said "banana" not "bandanna" and I thought WTF are you doing with a banana in your bedroom!?!?!

Never mind.

Posted by: KathyHowe at May 26, 2006 08:57 AM

I just love the two of you. I really do.

However, your post has brought on an attack of post traumatic stress disorder. You see, last summer a mama rat decided our house was cozy and peaceful and the perfect place for babies. We were woken at 4am one day by a baby that just needed to see if our bed was as pleasant as it looked.

I may not ever recover. Ever. Especially since people have bandanna issues that they blog about and my memories get stirred!

Posted by: moonandsun03 at May 26, 2006 12:55 PM

I wasn't sure whether it was fact or fiction when I started reading. Why did you take it to bed in the first place? (perhaps it's best not to ask)

Posted by: Anji at May 27, 2006 03:28 AM

ROFL... combine all of the above comments and mix 'em up a little and you'll get my comment. I'm still laughing and snorting a bit as I write this. I'm reading, I'm thinking fiction? I'm getting a little worried and thinking, "What's wrong with the dog?" and "huh? wha?" and "banana?? what the hell with the banana?" Oh god. LOL!!!

Posted by: Keri at May 31, 2006 01:53 AM