Читать книгу Half-Minute Horrors - Литагент HarperCollins USD - Страница 19

DEAN LOREY

Hank

Hank was one of the most adorable puppies you’ve ever seen, which is why it was such a shock when, seven years after the day we brought him home from the pet store, he looked up at me with his big, beautiful Labrador eyes and said, “I’m going to kill you.”

“You . . . you can talk?” I whispered.

“Of course, dummy. I just haven’t talked to you until right now.”

I was alone in the house with him. It was a freedom I gained on my thirteenth birthday—a freedom I suddenly regretted.

“I haven’t decided exactly how I’m going to do it yet,” Hank continued, stepping closer on his padded feet. Drool dripped from his long front teeth. “I was going to tear into your throat while you were sleeping, but I think I may just go ahead and do it right now.”

“But . . . but I thought you loved me,” I replied, stumbling backward. “I thought we were best friends!”

“I know. What a dummy you are.” He laughed cheerlessly. “Yeah, every time I licked you, you know what I was thinking? I was thinking, I’m gonna kill him. Lick. Make him suffer. Lick, lick. Watch him die in front of me with that scared, confused look in his eyes.

“You thought that when we were snuggling?” I reached behind me. My hands closed around a lamp—a weapon, maybe? “I had no idea . . .”

“I know,” Hank said before attacking.