Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to nocturnal transmissions, the fortnightly podcast that produces dark tales.

And what, pray tell, has our precociously productive production produced for your perusal at the present point in time?

Why, it's Lindsay B. Goddard's Product

Nine.

The distance from my back door to the chain-link fence that borders my yard, might as well be the Serengeti plain.

It's too far. Too out in the open, rife with predators, thirsty for my blood.

Mary stares at me with unspoken hope in her eyes, as if I might save the world today.

Her long brown hair is pulled into a sloppy bon.

Loose hairs frame a worried face as she surveys the situation through a small window near the top of the door.

Rex is a good dog, but not worth dying for.

I contemplated how to say this to Mary without sounding like a coward.

She bites her lip, hard enough to turn the outer edges wide, peering through that window with tears forming in her eyes.

His leash is stuck. It's tangled in the wires of the fence.

Ray...

He needs help.

I motion with my fingers for it to step aside.

Sunlight pours through the pane of glass,

causing me to squint as I scan the area.

I spot him in the distance.

His black fur creates an easy target against the green and yellow foliage of the lawn.

A shadow passes over him, blots out the sun for a fleeting moment.

Clouds. Don't move like that. Like gulp,

...