“I’m a good boy,” the dog says from the other side of the door, only it’s not a dog at all, not with a voice like that. In the darkness, everybody loses their shit, including me. The thing on the other side lets out a deep, guttural laugh, then grabs my wrist tight, preventing me from retreating back into the bathroom. Its tongue runs up and down the back of my hand, then it starts sucking on my fingers, making loud wet disgusting noises that I’ll never unhear for the rest of my life. “I’m a good boy,” it croaks, “I’m a good boy, me, me, me, I’m a good boy, yum yum yum yum . . .
AHHHH
