Smiling Dog Creepypasta Story の小説・ストーリー

A tall, thin man with dark blonde hair and blue eyes framed with circular, silver glasses walks out in a t-shirt and jogging shorts with what is arguably the most beautiful dog I've seen in my entire life. Concerns about my first impressions are gone and I let out an embarrassing squeal as I rush towards the dog. The man startles and pulls on the leash, pulling the dog back towards him. The movement makes me realize what a psychopath I probably look like and I halt my steps at the end of his walkway.

Masking your scent is something that takes years of practice, but much like whistling, some people can just do it, some have to work hard for years to master the ability, while others, especially the weaker breeds, can not do it, however hard they try. I adjust my sense of smell and hearing as try to listen to the sounds in the house, to avoid overwhelming myself. The smell that hits me is the scent of blood. Gallons upon gallons of blood. It seems as if the whole house is painted in blood. I almost gag immediately. What the hell happened in that house? “Did the child say anything?” someone inside asks. “’ A big dog’ she said.’ She hasn’t said another word since.” Someone else replied. “Well

“This one here is our pet dog, a very rare breed. It’s only found in our region, almost extinct. That’s why people don’t know much about it. This is one of its kind.” ‘WHEN CAN I KILL YOU? You made me a pet, a fucking dog?’ I yell through our mind link. As they continue this absurd conversation, my beast continues to think of all the ways we will torture Giovanni before killing him. “No, No, I don’t want to touch it.” Omerta moves back as she says that, and my beast is furious, and I almost keep it from growling. My agitated beast is fuming because this stray doesn’t want to touch us, and he thinks she doesn’t find him attractive. WOW, just WOW.

A chill ran down her spine as she looked into its blood-red eyes, the dog’s head tilting slightly as she gasped; shivering. Elika jumped as the animal spoke, surprised at how human it sounded. “So, you must be the daughter that master has told me about. Hello, little one.” The princess forced a small smile, remembering the manners that her mother had spent years drilling into her mind. “Hello.” “How was your sleep, little one?” The demon-like dog questioned, sitting just below the cage. The forced smile remained as Elika glanced around the room, wandering where the dark lord had gone. “Fine, thank you ... What is your name?”

Tears began to fall out of my eyes at an uncontrolled pace and before I knew it, I was sitting on the dirty ground sobbing with my eyes tightly closed because I didn't want to see how I was going to be eaten. I know I earlier said I hated crying but this was a different case, I was going to be a freaking giant dog's lunch! "Why me? why do I always have to land myself in ---" " Growl!!" A powerful and louder growl grabbed my attention and my heartbeat increased even more thinking that another more powerful dog was coming to eat me. I instantly opened my eyes only to see Dean giving the dog a murderous look. He wasn't the only one but the lady Crystal and her other friend with two other men we

“I haf a cold. I need anybodyics.” I twist my mouth and nod so I don’t laugh at him. “Well, sounds like your mom brought you to the right place.” “Do you need medicine?” He looks up at me with itchy looking blue eyes and puts his thumb back in his mouth. “Nah, my girlfriend kissed a big dog and got cooties.” I curl my lip to exaggerate how gross the cooties are. “Hey! Are you talking about ME?!” Rocky says in disbelief. “I am NOT a dog. I’m a wolf and I didn’t give our mate cooties.”

I stopped in my tracks immediately. "Who's there?" I asked They just giggled. So I followed their giggles and it led to me elves. A lady with pointy ears and freckles was sitting in a big maple tree. I didn’t even think these creatures actually existed. "Well, hello dog,” she said. That made me a bit angry so I shifted from my werewolf form. "I'm not a dog." I scolded her. She said, "Oh, we have a smart-mouthed dog then. Tell me what is your name child."

the stranger whispered, a terrible grin spreading across his face. The creature didn't trot. It slid forward, its paws barely touching the grass, its back arched in an impossible, sickening curve. It stopped ten feet from the circle of "sheep." Then, it looked at me. What used to be a dog—a creature that possessed the hollow, rotting eyes of a dead thing—is smiling.

"Nobody would be surprised if you did. So, what are they about then?" I pulled out my desk chair and straddled it backward. "It's all really weird. Sometimes it's about this man killing his brother and the dead brother's wife finding him. And they're dressed in animal skins like, I don't know, cave people wore. Sometimes I'm in this smoky forest and I can hear someone calling my name, but it's not my name, yet I know it's me, and I can hear this kid crying her eyes out. Then this dog comes up to me and I'm so happy, but when it gets really close with its big teeth, I realize it's a wolf and I wake up--"

And to confirm my terror, a Caucasian dog appeared in sight, barking, hungry, and ready to tear me into pieces. I stood still, frozen, scared that any more movement would mean death for me. Soon, Stefan appeared, a grin on his face. He went over to the dog, patting it on the back. “Thank you, Donald, I’d take it from here.” He said to put a leash over the dog's neck. “And don’t even try to run or I’d set him free, and trust me, he’s very hungry. He hasn’t been fed for days.” I swallowed hard, realizing I was in much deeper shit than I could admit. “I’m not following you back there, I won’t be in that room with those insects. I’m phobic to them!”