Carter adopts puppies.
Release The Hounds
Carter had been looking in pet shops all day. He’d suddenly decided he wanted a dog.
“I don’t know anybody here and dogs are real chick magnets,” he had told himself.
Just as he made the comment aloud, he spotted an old man squatting beside a cardboard box. The man grinned toothlessly at him.
“This is your lucky day ! Just look at these little fellas!” he crooned.
Carter wandered over and peeked in the box. Three tiny puppies looked up at him with dark, liquid eyes.
“What kind are they?”
“Who knows at this age?”
Picking up the wiggling mass, Carter nuzzled them.
“No charge, they need to be rehomed.”
Grinning down at the dogs, he walked home. On the way, he got them everything they would need from collars to coats. When he got home, he set everything up then played with them until they fell asleep on his lap.
By the time Carter had taken them for a walk, put out food and water in separate bowls and showed them their beds, he was exhausted and ready for his own.
That midnight, which happened to be Halloween Eve, he heard dogs howling. Thinking the puppies had to go out again, he got up. By the time he got to the door, he was surrounded.
But they weren’t puppies anymore. They were giant versions of dachshunds with glowing red eyes and slavering jaws. Terrified, Carter threw open the door and the monster dogs leaped out into the darkness.
Worried, he called the police and dog catcher. He heard nothing back from either. But the morning news told it all.
“Hell hounds! But I always thought they were bigger,” Carter muttered as he turned off the TV.
Then he heard scratching at the door.