Dog With The Human Face Novels & Stories

she asked, her eyes wide. “I’m a person,” I snapped at her. “I’m not an animal.” “Oh,” she giggled. “She’s feisty!” Clearly she didn’t see me as a person at all. “You can pet her,” Demetrius said. The woman reached out to touch my arm. I recoiled. Demetrius tugged firmly on the leash. It pulled at my neck. “Bad werewolf,” he chuckled. Then he smacked me on my hand. “Does she…does she do tricks?” a bugged eyed man asked. He was human too.

He makes plans for the future here, with all of this. I wiggle down from his hold, to the floor where the little dog runs the length of her lead to reach me. She licks my teary face and I crush her into my chest and stroke behind her ears. Creature stands beside her, smitten with his head on hers. He licks her head and runs, encouraging her to chase him and they bounce around in play.

“He missed you so much he ran away from home! It’s a good thing I found him and brought him here to you!” “Oh, I missed him, too!” Dorin ran to the field to meet his dog. It was a black skinny dog with a wrinkly face, a white streak of thin fur ran from the base of its pointed ears, down to its spine. It reached up to Dorin’s shoulders as it jumped to greet him, and soon, the two were rolling on the grass, the dog licking the boy’s face enthusiastically. “So, you are Morecai.” The medic looked at the girl before him. He still could not see her face and could only look at her red, red lips.

Her long blond hair was wild all over her and some stray strands stuck to her face in sweaty patches. The werewolf started to circle around her, slow purposely strolls. It's huge black eyes was staring down at her as it moved around, assessing her. It looked like it was performing some kind of ritual. The werewolf was huge with black brown fur and from the light coming from the moon behind it, it looked menacing. It's eyes were deep and dark and a scar ran from it's eyebrow to the corner of its eyes.

He bends down, although he doesn’t need to move far as the dog is about the size of a small bear, and aggressively rubs its head and body while crooning at it. All of its scary ‘I may eat you’ manner, disperses into puppy whimpering and crawling around the man's feet as it tries to roll on its back for further affection. Melting the hostility and suspicion away as he folds back his ears and his jawline seems to curl back into a weird dog smile with half-closed eyes at the petting. He’s soft as hell it would appear. It’s as big a transformation as dickhead Alexi to sweet Lexi.

I say softly, my voice filled with confidence and reverence. Once his head turned towards my hand, he purred softly, a clear sign of his happiness. His tail started to wag eagerly as I gently scratched the back of his ears, feeling the warmth of his soft fur beneath my fingertips. Luca was not fearful at all; he was a gentle and adorable creature, an oversized dog with a calm demeanor. Growing up, I always dreamed of having a dog as a loyal companion, and now, as I played with Luca, I couldn’t help but imagine him as my massive, werewolf-like dog—fierce yet affectionate—who also happens to be the man I love.

A woman came home from shopping to find her Doberman dog choking on something. She quickly put him in the car and rushed him to the vet. The vet told her to go home while he operated to remove whatever was lodged in the dog's windpipe, and he'd call her when she could pick up her pet. The woman hadn't been home for long when the vet called and told her in a calm but urgent voice to get out of her house immediately, and that he'd come by to explain in a few minutes. From her neighbour's window she saw the vet arrive with several police cars, and she ran out to see if her dog was all right and to see what was going on. As the police ran into her house, the vet told her what her loving pet had

Instead, a stranger was standing in front of her. He wears the entire Met team uniform. An orange-green bottle cap was worn backwards on his head, where some of the tightly locked blond locks had escaped. He wears a Met shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He kept an orange leash on his arm, and then she saw the Old Yeller sitting right next to him with a rather serious expression that showed he wasn't some stupid hybrid. The dog wore a colorful Met scarf around its neck. One of its ears folded down where it had been damaged. Its tail is still not wagging. But his eyes no longer contained the haunting look she used to see in her traumatized dog. Leaning in front of the dog's legs was a cardboard box

Doyle scoffed, “But we have a more pressing matter to attend to” he said with a sly smile. I don’t like this dog. He seems off. “Are you afraid?” I teased with a chuckle. I don’t know what possessed me to bait him. I guess I'm just used to playing with these dumb animals. He didn’t seem to appreciate it though. Doyle roared. He didn’t just let his canines extend, but his whole face began morphing into a wolf. His nose extended forward as his teeth grew, his eyebrows increased in size and spread across to his ears, which had grown into furry points.

"It's human, not a hound at all." I hear what he says and it finally triggers my brain. The short neck, arms extended to the sides not under, legs extended straight down. How the neck meets the spine and continues downward almost fluidly. The rotated pelvis. My gaze travels back to his head. The skull isn't human, it's elongated to hold the number of huge teeth in its mouth. A twisted thought almost sickens me. "A dog bred with a human," I say out loud. Just thinking it was bad enough. Giving voice to such a travesty is almost more than I can handle.