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Estimated reading time — 3 minutes

It was nearing midnight, and the air was rapidly cooling. It was silent but for the few cars passing by, and the wind rustling trees. I looked around outside once more before shutting the front door and bolting it. I turned off the hall light and made my way upstairs. As I was brushing my teeth, I heard a slight scratching sound. Ignoring it, I focused on the too-strong mint flavor of my toothpaste and the tingling feeling in my mouth. I turned on the taps and studied myself in the mirror. There it was again, that scratching sound; although this time it seemed more frantic, louder. I armed myself with my toothbrush and entered the hallway. It was black, the mirror at the end of the hall reflecting little light. I quickly flipped the switches, chastising myself for not having left a light on. As I neared my kitchen, the scratching sound was replaced by a tapping, a strange, infrequent noise that only intrigued me further. I felt around for the light switch, a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Counting to three, I turned the lights on. I dropped the toothbrush and waited. Nothing. Walking further into the kitchen I heard a familiar sound. Woof. I pulled back the blinds from the patio doors to see my dog sitting outside, waiting to be let in. How could I have forgotten about my dog? I always made sure she was in, safe from harm and from causing too much trouble. I started towards the door, only to see something in the glass door’s reflection that made me hesitate. I shrugged it off and opened the door, and once I had let my dog in I realized what I had seen in the reflection. In on the living room couch was my dog. But how? And then I saw something that both terrified and confused me. My dog was two. There, sitting on my kitchen floor, was literally two of my dog. There were no physical differences whatsoever, from the coarse white fur to the pink collar around her neck. I took a step back, dumbfounded. Either I was imagining things or what had I just let into my house? I felt uneasy looking at the dogs, I couldn’t tell which one was my Maggie and which one was the other. I pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. Neither dog moved. Think, I told myself. Stay calm, think. This thing, this dog, it cannot know you know it doesn’t belong. But how can I tell the difference? Then I had an idea. I’ll attribute it to all the time I’ve spent watching Criminal Minds, but really I was just so terrified I couldn’t think, so I did the only thing I was able to do: stare. I watched the dogs. I sat there and stared and waited until one of them moved. The first to move was the one on my right, who sauntered off into the living room and curled up on the rug. The other dog followed, but this dog had more of a spring to its step. “C’mere Maggie!” I grabbed a treat, a flavour I knew my real dog wasn’t fond of, and summoned the second dog. She came galloping towards me, and swallowed the treat whole. Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed the dog by it’s collar, flung open the patio door and threw the thing outside. Then, as quickly as possible, I locked the door and flicked on the outdoor lights. I was just in time to see the dog trot off the patio and morph into a human-shaped black fog, before blending into the shadows.

Later that morning, after a sleepless night filled with fear and nightmares, the phone rang. It was the neighborhood gossip, an old woman named Gladys. She had called to tell me about an event that took place last night. “Didn’t you hear? That young lady- the one up the street, who just moved in? She disappeared last night! Cops have been out all morning, trying to figure out what happened!”

Maybe it wouldn’t have been as weird if what happened to me last night hadn’t happened. But then I remembered something, a minor detail, mediocre really, that I hadn’t registered when I had looked around outside my neighborhood last night. I remembered seeing that young woman call her dog inside and shut her front door. I must have been imagining things. After all, Gladys had mentioned that she had seen the young woman’s yellow lab scratching at her back door, just a little while after midnight.


Credit To – Faith

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26 thoughts on “Woof”

  1. We used to own a black lab that was a biological sister to our neighbor’s black lab, and they looked EXACTLY the same. They were also friendly toward each of our families, and occasionally we would find that we let the wrong one in or our neighbor had. We never noticed until she rolled over. Ours had a scar from being spayed and our neighbor’s didn’t. Dogs can look just like other dogs, and it’s even worse if they have similar personalities and are both very friendly toward you. I would have probably died if I were this guy/girl. I would have assumed the lookalike was a friendly lost dog and wait until morning and call animal control.

  2. “As I was brushing my teeth, I heard a slight scratching sound.”
    Wouldn’t that be from brushing your teeth in the first place?

  3. Something that mimics your pet to be let in your house is creepy (although a bit dumb, if it does that while the real thing is inside and in sight).
    Something that, once in, just lets you grab its collar and usher it out without any hint of a struggle, however, is not. It makes you think that, if left inside, at some point he would go to his victime and politely ask her to go with him somewhere, then pout and leave if she refused to.
    Add to this the fact that not even the narrator seems to be seriously (or even barely) scared, as much as dumbfounded.

  4. Not written by me guys, very good though. I did notice it would have been creepier with maybe letting in the wrong dog, but…

    I think it was done really well this way. I rather like it, Nice work other Faith. =)

  5. Personaly, I would have made it so that she threw the wrong dog out. It would have made people wonder about second guessing things leading to a slightly higher level of creepiness.

  6. It was a nice little pasta. I really enjoyed the concept. The end was a bit predictable and could have probably been written from a better angle or point of view.

    For example, I would have ended the story with the main character looking out her window the following night and seeing her neighbor open the door for his pet dog.

    When was scrolling through the pastas I was going to skip yours because of its giant wall of text. The only reason I decided to read it anyway was because of its short size. The wall of text did not bother me once I started reading, but refusing to insert paragraphs in your pasta is a “turn off” to any reader.


  7. OMG OMG OMG!!! The other night as I was going to bed I saw a cat at the back door and it looked just like my other cat!

    P.s. I have 7 cats, and the one at my door looked like my White and grey one…

  8. I felt bad when she threw away the other dog bt when i saw that it changed and blah blah i changed my mind…anyway the story is too short and it could be better if it was more detalied and blah blah

  9. A quiet, eerie pasta, this piece had a creeping sense of mystery going for it. I liked how the first act sets up the plot; simple as it is, the prose captures that first reaction to things that go bump in the night: morbid, terse curiosity, gradually morphing towards fear. The tone was safely mundane, adding to the atmosphere.

    Beginning from the dog scene though, the pasta developed tonal problems. The plot tells me that the protagonist is confused, terrified; the tone however persists in being flatly matter-of-fact. This is exacerbated by the first person POV: the dog-selecting scene came across as vaguely absurd for lack of showed emotion.

    I also thought the wall-of-text formatting ruined the pacing, along with a lot of the suspense. Paragraph breaks would’ve afforded a sense of hesitation, instead of the breathless run-in feel of text blocks.

    The pasta concludes in a timely fashion IMO. The brief appearance of the shadow-person gave a good just-glimpsed creep to the mystery, the phonecall concluding things fairly well.

    Overall, a rather emotionless but nonetheless effective kind of pasta. 7.0/10

  10. jeff vs slendy

    it was pretty good but yeah it needed more to be creepy…maybe spmthing more extrem like if you had to fight it or something. 6.5/10

  11. I liked this, but I felt like the story could have used some tweeking and maybe been a little longer, just to add some suspense. It felt like the dog/person entering and leaving the house just happened too quick. Also, if the person hadn’t seen the dog change, the phone call would have been much more creepy – giving them that sudden realization of what was in the house.

  12. SinisterExaggerator

    It might have been a bit creepier if you’d separated the first paragraph into several. At the right points, it could create a feeling of suspense–presentation counts, so next time, try not to make it so much of a wall of text. Otherwise, I liked it.


    Nice to see a pasta by Faith, even if it is a bit ‘wall of pasta’-y. No offence.

        1. I know he was talking about me, because YCHTU is my very good friend. It wasn’t me, because this is not the pasta I wrote. I don’t have a last name, because as most people do, I use a pen name in my writing and commenting.

  14. E? You know sometimes i complain about a story being too long but this one is too short(?).

    It would’ve been creepier if the story started out like, “this happened in my hometown blahblah.., north America, etc.” Give/cite a place (with a proper noun) to complete the setting.


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