The Demon Inside Me

Chapter 13: Woman Scorned

My day took a dramatic turn as the dog, who I called, Trouble, demonstrated strength that seemed impossible for a canine. In a surprising show of power, he dragged me into the bathtub, soaking one half of my body. It was an absurd and chaotic scene for anyone who dared to watch. 

"You bastard!" I exclaimed, my voice a mix of irritation and amazement. "Where in the hell did you get all that strength?"

Instead of cowering or showing submission, he displayed an unusual defiance and leaped onto my back. His weight caused me to tumble headfirst into the tub. Thankfully, I hadn't filled it fully; otherwise, I might have found myself in serious trouble, fighting against drowning in my own bathroom.

Now drenched from head to toe, I found myself in a peculiar predicament. I struggled to sit up and regain control over the situation, but Trouble, this enigmatic dog, managed to pin me down. I seethed with frustration, trying to negotiate with a canine, like a crazy person.

"Okay, okay," I began, adopting a more conciliatory tone. "If you let me go, I'll give you a  yummy treat. How does that sound?" I attempted to barter with him, not quite sure if he could even comprehend such a proposition. But it was worth a try. As soon as I mentioned the word "treat," Trouble perked up and appeared to contemplate my proposal, as if he understood the deal at hand.

"Yeah right," I muttered to myself, realizing that the dog likely only focused on the magic word: "treat."

Sensing my frustration and futility in reasoning with a dog, I let out an exasperated huff. "Fine, new deal. If you let me clean you up without a fuss, I will allow you to sleep on the bed." At the mention of the bed, Trouble's eyes widened with excitement. It seemed he was not only capable of understanding but also had a keen interest in my offer.

He wasted no time in showing his approval, darting forth and wagging his tail enthusiastically. It was clear that his motivation wasn't solely cleanliness but the prospect of sharing a comfortable bed. I sighed and relented, freeing my legs and pushing Trouble to the far end of the bathtub.

"Alright, you win," I conceded, acknowledging the futility of trying to reason with a dog. "You can sleep on the bed, but first, you need to let me finish cleaning you."

It took around 20 minutes to get Trouble all cleaned up, and despite the initial struggle, he seemed to settle into the process as if he understood the purpose of the bath. However, as I prepared to leave and finish my own shower, Trouble whimpered, not wanting to be left alone.

"I need you to stay here while I finish up my shower. Don't go anywhere," I said before closing the bathroom door to make sure he couldn't escape and wreak havoc while I showered.

As I undressed and started my shower, a strange noise caught my attention. It was a soft, rhythmic tapping sound, like something whipping back and forth. It was coming from the spring metal door stopper mounted on the bottom of the bathroom wall, meant to prevent the door from slamming. It was odd, and I couldn't figure out the source of the noise. Trouble was lying in the bathroom, unusually still except for his rapidly moving tail. "It's unusual to see you so still," I commented absentmindedly.

I began to undress, removing my clothes one piece at a time. When I unclipped my bra, I noticed that Trouble was watching me intently. His unwavering gaze felt disconcerting, and I paused, hand hovering at my bra clasp. I muttered to myself. "Out you go; you officially creep me out." I opened the bathroom door, allowing Trouble to exit.

The soothing stream of warm water washed over me in a gentle rhythm. 

But then, in the midst of that serenity, an unsettling noise crept into my awareness. Thud. At first, I dismissed it as my overactive imagination, a byproduct of the strange occurrences that had unfolded this month.