Retribution

(WC: 804 words)

The dog would not stop barking. That son of a bitch! It would act all loyal and brave in front of the other building residents, all nice and obedient. And when it came to us, he wouldn't stop barking. He hated us, and we hated it just as much.

I remember that night, how peacefully it was sleeping in its pathetic kennel, how easily Mark and I had grabbed it, pressed its mouth so it wouldn't squeal, how we drove it to the riverside and I had bashed its head in with a rock and we had thrown its squirming body in the river. It was finally quiet!

The building was in uproar the next day but like everything else, it too died down eventually. Everything was perfect again. Our area was pretty tame so there was no need of a dog in the first place.

On weekend I got to meet Mark again, and he asked me if I too heard a faint barking. He said that he had been hearing it since the day before, a faint constant noise. I shrugged it off, suggesting that it might be the pack of strays that comes around once a while.

"Maybe it is that dog, he has come to take revenge" I said trying to mess with him.

I joked to him about it but I heard it too, that evening when I came back to my apartment. A really faint sound, one I wouldn't really hear if I wasn't especially listening for it.

Then in a span of mere days, I was hearing it all around, in my room, in my office, everywhere I went. A few days after that, and the sound came in clearly even through headphones and earplugs.

The sound was also growing gradually, as if the dog was coming closer and closer. I called Mark to check up on him, the situation was becoming more and more troubling.

Mark's voice was trembling to say the least, he was shouting over the phone as if trying to overcome the voice. He was saying that he hadn't got much sleep since a few days. He was pleading to me for help, crying almost. And all that I could do was to reassure him, tell him that it would all be okay. I hung up, knowing that there wasn't anything that I could have done, and also that, that would happen to me in a few days.

I skipped work that day, that damned barking and the conversation over the telephone with Mark had given me a major headache. I soon drifted to sleep. A ring woke me up, it was a colleague of Mark's, I had known him for a little while. He had called to deliver the news to me. Mark had a car accident on the highway, spot death.

I got to see his body one last time, his skull was bashed in, exactly like the dog's. At that time I knew, what we had done had come back to haunt us.

I rushed back to my apartment and locked the door behind me, I wasn't going to let that stupid dog get the better of me. I blocked the smallest of the openings, no sound was to come through.

And it worked for a while, the sound was almost gone for some time, but it came again, this time, it felt as if it was coming from right behind me. That dog was standing right there in the four walled room with me. I turned my gaze around but there was nothing.

With wide bloodshot eyes, I sat right in the middle of the room for what seemed like eternity, but the barks kept coming, always from right behind me, almost as if mocking me.

The barks became louder and more frequent as time went on but I was determined, I would do whatever it took to stop it, I wasn't going to die like Mark did.

I saw something lying on the table ahead, a pencil, and had an Idea. It would definitely work, If I couldn't hear anything, I wouldn't hear it either.

I raised the pencil upto my right ear and jabbed it in with one clean move of the arm. The pain was excruciating, it brought me down to my knees. But I knew that it had to be done. With shaking fingers, I took the bloody pencil into my other hand and holding it firmly, jabbed it into my left ear. I gave out a loud cry and slumped to the ground.

When I came to, I found myself on a hospital bed, my neighbour was there and a doctor was moving his mouth at me, I couldn't hear what he was saying though. I could hear nothing, nothing but that bark.