Aaron Daniels - Evil Puppies

Evil Puppies

by

Aaron Daniels

For years, they were mans best friend.

Nothing lasts forever.

We leashed them. We made them beg for scraps. We domesticated them from proud wolves into sniffling pugs. Now they want revenge.

As the Evil Puppies roam the world, city after city falls. New York rises in flame and puppy fur. Los Angeles is overrun. The armies of the world crash before them. Can nothing stop these adorable balls of fluff?

Theyre cute. Theyre cuddly. Theyre craving human blood. Mans best friend... just became his worst nightmare.

Evil Puppies -- seven short stories of adorable horror by Aaron Daniels. Included: Free bonus story by Michael Crane, author of Lessons (And Other Morbid Drabbles) .

New York City

The evil puppies attacked at twilight.

They swarmed the streets of New York, barking, kicking up snow. When Janet saw them, her first instinct was to clasp her hands together, sigh, and release a long, "Awwww."

Rob, her boyfriend, grabbed her arm. "Come on, Janet!" he screamed. "Run!"

Janet couldnt help it. She reached out toward the swarming, adorable balls of fluff. "But theyre so cute!"

The puppies soon reached her. They jumped onto her, tails wagging, and bit off her legs.

"Oh God!" Rob said.

Janet stood on stumps, looking around confused. The puppies ripped into her stomach, pulling out her entrails, tails wagging madly.

"Oh God have mercy!" Rob screamed.

The puppies pushed Janet down, bit off her head, and began to eat. Soon there was nothing left of Janet but bones.

"Right!" Rob said. "That does it. Nobody eats my girlfriend."

He kicked open a shops window, grabbed a baseball bat, and began to swing. Soon puppies were flying through the air, squeaking.

"Come on, puppies," Rob said. "Anyone want to play fetch?"

The puppies swarmed. Rob swung his bat. A beagle went flying. He swung again. A cocker spaniel flew and hit a lamp post.

But there were too many. The puppies soon covered him, gnawing and scratching. Rob fell. He tried to raise the baseball bat, but could not. The puppies had bitten off his arm.

"Sit, boys, sit!" he said, but it did no good. No. These puppies were done obeying. Rob opened his mouth to scream again, and the puppies began shoving dog food down his throat. He saw that they carried a bag of the stuff. It tasted awful.

"Look, Im sorry we fed you this crap, but--" He could say no more. The dog food filled his mouth, muffling him.

Once he had eaten near to bursting, the puppies ripped into his belly, wagging their tails as the dog food spilled out. Then they began biting his neck. The last thing Rob saw was his body, decapitated, and he realized that his head was rolling away.

Then he saw nothing.

The puppies raced from street to street. They bit through electrical wires, water pipes, the foundations of buildings. The Chrysler building came crashing down, puppies raining from its steeple. The Empire State Building soon followed, a million puppies shoving it. The Statue of Libertys head floated down the Hudson, puppies running in circles atop it.

New York City rose in flame, smoke, and flying puppy fur.

Their time had come.

Mans best friend... was now his worst nightmare.

Anytown, USA

"Happy first anniversary, schnookums!" Mike said. With a grin, he held out a box with holes.

Amanda, an angel in a woollen sweater, beamed. "Aww, thank you, sweetie-pie!" She kissed him and took the box. "Now what's in here?"

She removed the ribbon atop the box and opened it. The most adorable, tiny, cutesy little puppy wagged his tail inside.

"Aww, honey-bunches!" Amanda said to her newlywed. "This little puppsy-wupsy is almost as cutie as you are."

She grabbed a piece of anniversary cake from the coffee table. She held it over the puppy's head. "Who wants some cakey? Who wants some cakey?"

The puppy wagged his tail and barked, as if saying, "Me! Me!"

Amanda lowered the piece of cake into the box... and the puppy bit off her hand. He began to eat her fingers as if they were sausages.

"Bad puppy!" Mike said as his wife screamed. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you!"

The puppy wagged his tail, jumped out of the box, and leaped onto Amanda's chest. As Mike watched, the puppy bit out her heart, then spat it at Mike's feet.

"You always said I had your heart," Mike whispered, tears in his eyes. Then the puppy turned toward him.

When the police cruisers arrived, they found the house in flames. A single, shivering puppy sat outside in the yard. Police Sergeant Letts stepped toward the pup and lifted him.

"You're safe now, little buddy," the veteran policeman said, cuddling the puppy. "You're safe."

In his arms, the puppy chuckled and licked his lips.

Las Vegas

Elvis sat watching television, a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken on his lap, when the portal opened beside him.

"God darn it," he said. "I hate when time portals open during prime time."

This time portal seemed to flow from 1940s Germany; Elvis caught sight of a bunch of dead Nazis. A cloud of puppies obscured the sight. Tails wagging, they spilled into Elvis's Las Vegas hotel room.

"I like hound dogs," Elvis said and rose to his feet. He grabbed a chicken leg with one hand, and a gun with the other. He pointed both at the puppies, who were still spilling onto the floor. "But ain't nobody disturbs Elvis during Hawaii Five-O."

When the puppies came running toward him, Elvis noticed that blood dripped down their mouths. They reached his boots and began to bite. One tore through his pant leg and drew blood.

"Well, bust my breeches and call me a streaker," Elvis said and kicked the pup. It went flying and crashed into the bar, knocking over bottles of scotch. "First you bite me, then you smash my booze. That does it."

Elvis took a bite of chicken, aimed his gun at the puppies, and shot. They scattered, but soon regrouped and raced toward him. One jumped onto his chest and bit his shoulder. Elvis shouted, blood seeping down his jewel-studded jumpsuit. He ripped off the puppy, tossed it into the air, and shot. He missed, instead shooting down the chandelier. It crashed to the floor, burying several puppies.

"Cotton-picking hound dogs," Elvis said. "Nobody messes with the King."

He reached into his bucket of chicken, grabbed another piece, and shot his gun. He hit one puppy, sending it flying. He chewed chicken and shot again. A second puppy flew.

"Thankyou, thankyouverymuch," Elvis said between mouthfuls of chicken. He drew a second gun and began firing in all directions, holding the puppies back. The theme to Hawaii Five-O blared as he fired. Puppy blood and brains covered the hotel room. Still more spilled from the portal. One reached him, jumped up, and bit off his left sideburn. Elvis cursed to high heavens, ripped it off, and shot it dead.

When a bunch more came swarming toward him, Elvis pulled the triggers... but he was out of bullets. He tossed the guns aside, disgusted. He had more guns in the bedroom, but about fifty puppies separated him from there. He would have to use his Karate skills.

Elvis grabbed a third piece of chicken, then began moving toward the bedroom. The puppies attacked from all sides, but Elvis fought with kicks and chops. He sang as he fought.

"Well since my baby left me... KARATE CHOP! ...I found a new place to dwell... KARATE KICK, HYA!" He took a mouthful of chicken. Dead puppies piled up around his feet. "...It's down at the end of lonely street at... heartbreak hotel DOUBLE CHOP, HYA, thankyouverymuch."

He reached the bedroom and strode to his bedside table. He grabbed two Berettas and spun around. A hundred puppies were spilling into the bedroom. "Are you... lonesome tonight?" he asked and began firing. Bullet holes covered the walls. Picture frames crashed down. Vases of flowers shattered. Soon one wall collapsed. Still the puppies swarmed.