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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Mystery · #1120581
No best friend No worst enemy
Jack was lying down in bed at 2.am. He was rolling around, leaving the sheets soaked in sweat. His hands and legs twitched as the flashes of evil appeared in his head. He was having a nightmare of the devil himself. It appeared as a dark figure with a bulldog type of face, looking right at Jacks face as if he could destroy Jack with just a powerful stare.

“Noooooo!”

Jack woke up. He passed his right hand over is forehead to wipe out the sweat and then held it there, sustaining his head as if frightened he was going to loose his mind. He heard a noise down in the kitchen. He slowly made his way down the wooden stairs, one step at a time, tip toeing, trying not to make the wood screech. He poked his head around the corner of the kitchen door and saw the thing. It was standing there, in all fours, it had left the kitchen a mess, as if a hurricane had just made its way through. Boxes of milk where spilled all over the floor, as well as cornflakes, boxes of cookies, tomato juices, all the boxes and jars that where on the bottom drawers where now broken into little pieces throughout the white kitchen floor.

“ Son of a bitch, I’m going to kill you!!” Jack screamed.

“Wruf wruf,” came back the reply.

Jack had bought the bulldog five months ago. The first thought of buying it came when his little ten year old daughter asked him if she could have a dog. He said he’d give it to her, but since he and his wife where separated, and his daughter know lived with the mother she should ask her first. The mother refused to have a dog in her house, so since Jack felt he hadn’t been a very good father, part of reaching that conclusion was that the mother had taken custody of his little angel, he figured he’d make it up to his daughter by buying the dog and having it around his house so she could play with the thing when she came to visit her father every two weekends a month. Jack, having raised a daughter, figured it wouldn’t be too difficult dealing with a canine. The reason for the canine being a bulldog and not a golden retriever came about of pure melancholy. He’d served in the Marine Corps for eight years, and the mascot of the corps was a bulldog, and they, the marines where called devil dogs. So he named the little bulldog, devil dog. But Jack hoped the name would be just that, a name with no real significance attached to it. Eventually, it turned out that the little bulldog was the devil himself. He had destroyed almost all the furniture Jack had in the living room. The couches where full of holes with the white fillings sticking out. The dog also seemed to have a fetish for wood, hence all the tables and chairs where full of splinters because of the vicious biting. In the five months the dog had been with him he’d bought ten different pair of shoes, and it wasn’t because he was a shoed freak, but because the damn devil had chewed them up. On top of all the material pain he had suffered, he had to walk around the house wearing his chemical, biological, nuclear mask he’d stolen form the marines, because of the strong pee and excrement odor that inundated the house. He had spend almost a thousand dollars in cleaning equipment, and as much as he tried to rub and disinfest, the damn dog came right back and dumped his vowels on the clean and sparking floor.

Jack had actually took the bulldog to the marine base, at Camp Pendelton, California, to give it to one of his friends that was still in the marines. His friend had told him that their mascot had just passed away and that they where searching for another, so he figured he could get rid of the bastard in his house in some kind of noble way. After all he was contributing to the defenders of the country. He was giving back a symbol to one of the most decorated organizations in the armed forces. This is what he told his ten year old daughter when she came one weekend to see her mascot. She still spend the whole day crying. On top of that, when she returned to her mother on Monday and told her about ‘dady’ getting rid off her loving mascot, the mother had called Jack and cursed him for not being responsible of taking care of a damn dog that made their daughter happy. This, his ex wife said, was another example of how irresponsible and cold hearted Jack was, and one of the reasons she had divorced him. Jack tried to explain that it was his marine friend who told him that they had just lost their mascot at the base and they where searching for another one, so he volunteered, he told her it was a noble cause, to keep up the morale of soldiers. His wife got even more mad at him for treating her like an idiot. Eventually, Jack became remorseful, so he went out and bought another bulldog. He called his little daughter and told her he had back her loving mascot. But although the ten year old was young, she was not stupid, she had the instincts of her mother. A minute after she started petting the dog she realized that it wasn’t ’her’ dog, and that her dad just tricked her. The next Monday when she returned to her mother, Jack received the call of his enraged ex wife, cursing him, letting him know what a low life he was.

Jack, know trying to make everything good, he called his friend and told him he needed the dog back. The friend, although he didn’t tell Jack, was more than happy to get rid off the damn dog. He had tried to train him for the past week and he was getting nowhere.

So this is how Jack ended up in the kitchen of his house at 2 a.m, staring at the little devil dog right in the eyes. His first thought was to get one of the butchers knife and slice the damn thing open, cut it up in pieces, put it in the fridge, and send it with his daughter to give it to his wife as a ‘make up’ present. He’d tell them it was one of the best beef meat he’d tasted in long time. This was his way of getting back to his wife for all the insults he’d endured from her. But then, he thought that probably the wife would give his daughter some to eat, and he didn’t want in his conscious the thought of his little angel ever eating the dog she loved, even thought they’d probably never find out. But the inner pleasure he felt at the thought of pulling this thought against his wife it quickly evaporated when his ten year old entered the picture.

“Warf, warf,” the devil dog barked again. Then it slowly came towards Jack, it stopped right at his feat, it lifted his right leg and let out a long piss right on Jacks toes. Jack had gotten to the conclusion that this dog was from another planet, and that he had been sent here just to make his life miserable. Jack stepped back form the yellow puddle he was standing on, but as he stepped back he slipped, his legs bolted up and he felt face down on the little puddle of piss. He curse every single word in the American lexicon, and then slapped the devil dog across the face. The dog, took a step back, growled, letting his white sharp as razors teeth show, and jumped towards Jack taking a bite at his crotch. The bite severed hi penis. Jack was in shock, he couldn’t even scream. He just looked down at his genitals and saw jus the bag with his two balls still inside. He sighted in relief knowing that there was still something down there. Blood was squirting all over the kitchen floor. He was numb, he’d always thought that loosing your penis might be painful but as it turned out it wasn’t all that bad. He quickly grabbed a cloth that was lying in the kitchen table and started putting pressure in his wound. His next thought turned towards his penis. Know a days it was easy to reconstruct these type of things. He looked around the floor trying to find it, he felt ashamed that he was having trouble trying to find it, it wasn’t all that big after all. He then looked at the dog, and hanging from his its lower lip, in between the mass of wrinkled skin, was his penis. Jack walked towards the dog slowly. The dog pulled back a couple of steps.

“ Don’t eat it you son of a bitch!” He screamed at devil dog.

Jack lurched forward thinking he might caught the dog off guard, but the dog ran away and swallowed his genital.

Jack ran to the phone and dialed 911.

“ 911 what’s your emergency?” A monotone voice asked.

“ My genitals are missing mam…” Jack felt shame come over him as he never had felt before.

“ What happened sir?”

Jack paused for a second, “ my dog ate them.”

“ Sir, this is serious business, you’re wasting the time of a public emergency line.” Having said this the woman hung up on him.

Jack felt to the floor, he had lost a lot of blood, he was feeling very weak. He knew the end was coming, he’d been in combat in Iraq. He’d lived through a hole year of combat. He couldn’t believe his life would have to end this way. He could have died in the line of duty as a hero, know he was going to die in the line of shame, as a man without penis. He would be always be remembered by the penisless man, dying at the paws of his dog. Jack closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The dog walked up to Jack. He was indeed in a mission, Jack thought he knew nothing but he did know. He’d seen Jack at ‘his best,’ he’d seen him molesting his daughter. That is why Jack had bought him, to keep her quite. The dog, put his paw on the puddle of blood and wrote on the white floor.
THERE IS NO BEST FRIEND AND NO WORST ENEMY THAN USMC
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