Ding-Dong Pt. 1

Story by Snowy_Fenrir on SoFurry

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#1 of Horror

So... this is only the first part. I've decided to upload this short story in Parts because procrastination keep me from completing the whole this so there will be probably 1 to 2 more parts. Thank you for reading, if you have any opinions go ahead and comment I would really appreciate the feedback. ^^


Ding-Dong

Ding-Dong

Dong...Dong...Dong...Dong...Dong...Dong...Dong

Jasper sprung up in bed fear ebbing from his blue rabbit eyes. His soft brown fur matted from a cold sweat. It was only a nightmare, he thought to himself still sitting in his stooper. The reoccurring nightmares began after returning home from his father's funeral two and a half weeks ago. Since then they have haunted his every sleeping hour.

The nightmares you see, where simple. Always the same in theme, but at the same time always unique. It would start out like always. Somefur would be strapped to a table gagged with either duct tape or some form of cloth. The Butcher, as Jasper liked to call him, would loom over his victim. Jasper did not know who The Butcher was for there is not much to see from the first-person view he is always given. All he knew for certain we it wasn't him, the paws being much bigger and hairier then his. What he did see was the victim's bodies already bloodied with long constant cuts running down their sides in a symmetrical pattern, The Butcher's paws which where blood soked & unrecognizable, and the gleaming tray of tools sitting idly by the table. The knife, a surgeons scalpel tainted red from improper cleanings. A butcher's knife left in the same shape with flame patterned crimson decorating it. A few other odds and ends adorned the tray. Needles, clamps, maybe even a saw. The victim would be different, that was the ever changing differents each time. A wolf, then a deer, followed by a corgi. They where always different! The torturings was the worst part of it all, it hurt Jasper just to recollect the events of each night's mental scene. The victims would be covered with long cuts stretching from one end of the body to the other. Tails lopped off like they where mear twigs on a log leaving bloody stumps. Of course not each animal was treated the same. Canines would have their long sharp teeth plucked from their heads one by one. Deer and other horned animals would see their precious racks sawed off their scalps. Each animal with it's own technique for dealing unique pain. Of course each session would end with The Butcher standing over his victim knife in hand, the fear shining brightly in the unlucky ones eyes. The Butcher would brings the knife high into the air and brings it slamming down into the chest of the victim. Just before the knife hits the clock rings it's morning chime waking Jasper.

Jasper hops out of bed, sweat pasting his night shirt to his fur. Reading the clock as he makes his way to the bathroom, 7:02 A.M.. He didn't have much time before his shift started. Climbing into the shower he lets the warm water washing away the grime and fear. Getting out he raps himself in a towel and blows himself of with a hairdryer, the events of last nights dreams already receding into the back of his mind.

Making his way towards the kitchen area he passes the old grandfather clock. He loves the clock it seems to be the only thing able to poll him out of his horrible dreams. It had been his father's, after the funeral Jasper's mother had given it to him not wanting it around the house she claimed it reminded her to much of Jasper's father, the clocks lost owner. He gladly took it, "And was it ever a bitch to get in here," Jasper chucked to himself.