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Frequency - By Maanhatt (Horror Short story)-2

I pondered upon the garden, the moonlight illuminating my figure. I had no time to craft the image of the setting within my vision, for I knew that there was too much to catch the scent of. I slid my nose against the dirt, attempting to find something of interest within the soil. After an arduous, yet excitement-fueled search, I came to the conclusion that there was nothing within the blanket of sediment. Yet, an empty bliss still washed over me as my four paws carried me to my bed. It was not as easy as that. It didn’t make it that easy.

I felt a twitch and shudder within my hearing, my ears swaying from the presence of a painful piercing. I tried to carry on to ignore it, but the sound was too powerful, pushing me back like a violent wind. In an instant, I snapped into a defensive position, my eyes firing their pupils in random directions. Yet, as my eyes continued to frantically capture what was the source of the agonising sound, another shell of audible suffering bombarded me.

A voice, so incredibly similar to those who fed and kept me, began to scream and yell. I did not understand a single word they spoke, but what I did understand was more of the pain that came with it. I felt my body begin to shake before I fell through the ground. I looked down to see how far I was falling, only to see I was still standing upon the verandah. I felt my tendons twist and my fur begin to peel off, though I knew I was still physically fine. My eyes were consumed by a red haze until descending into an opaque image of crimson. And I saw faces. I knew them. They were wrong. Why were they so wrong?

And so, within the physical abilities my body could mentally perform at that point, I could only scream.

In that screeching void, I could only remember how loud I barked. Growls erupted from my throat through the pyroclastic flow of my barking, against an unknown entity, a frequency. The torment only elevated, every part of me bathed within an invisible acid. At this point, my mind could no longer distinguish between a fabricated pain or actual decay of my body. The red void burnt my eyes to a disintegrated ember, as I continued to hear the same voice engraving its screams into my already damaged psyche. The voice continued until I heard another one.

“Shush!” a familiar voice hissed from the glass door. Within those words, everything disappeared in an instant. The door slammed, and they walked away. Once I had stumbled into bed, the memory of what had just happened replayed over and over in my mind. Yet, with every replay, I felt more and more details begin to fragment and disappear until it was nothing but a fever dream. As I sat there, I began to wonder if it had happened last month, last week, or even last night, and I had simply forgotten. Yet, all I knew was that they did not perceive what I had just experienced as anything. Simply, nothing. Barking at nothing.