This is a repost of a short story I wrote based on an urban legend (the licked hand). I thought it’d be fun to bring it back for Halloween.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

The sound was all Samantha Wates could focus on tucked tightly into her bed. It was nearly midnight, and she’d only been asleep for an hour before she heard the faucet dripping.

Sam’s parents had left around 9 p.m. for a night out in the city, and they wouldn’t be home for hours. She dangled her arm off the bed until she felt her dog, Rupert, lick her hand. His favorite sleeping place was underneath her bed.

Sam liked to think that even though she was fifteen and didn’t believe in monsters, her dog was still protecting her from anything that went bump in the night.

“That’s a good boy, Rupert. Now, go turn off the leaking faucet.” She giggled to herself, knowing without opposable thumbs that it was impossible for a dog. “Alright, I’ll do it myself.”

She sprang from the bed. The winter chill made the hardwood floors like ice. She ran on her tiptoes out her door and across the hall to the bathroom. She turned both knobs tightly before jetting back to bed.

She snuggled in, trying to dismiss the cold in her feet and the prickling feeling at the back of her neck. She covered herself from head to toe with the bulky comforter but had let her hand hang down for Rupert to lick again. It was calming to know he was there, and sleep quickly took over.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

“Uh. Not again.” She mumbled to herself while glancing at the glowing red numbers on the bedside clock. She didn’t want to get up again. The late hour had made the room colder.

Sam got up anyway. She crossed the hall and started to reach for the faucet, but realized the sound wasn’t coming from the sink. It was coming from the bathtub.

She hesitated before moving the shower curtain back. Sam flicked the switch, and blinding light filled the bathroom. Squinting, she yanked back the curtain.

Her eyes widen as she slammed back into the counter, practically falling into the sink. The air was escaping her lungs faster than it was coming in. Black spots appeared in her vision before she remembered how to work her lungs.

Gulping in air, she stared at the blood matted hair and mangled body of her beloved dog. Rupert hung from the shower nozzle. His blood was dripping into the tub, pinging on the metal drain.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

Choking back tears, she edged toward the door but froze when she saw something written on the wall. Scrawled in blood across the tile were the words, “Humans can lick, too.”

Goosebumps had covered her flesh as her eyes touched on the words, and a dark form appeared behind her. An arm snaked around her waist, and another covered her mouth to silence her screams.

As Sam was dragged into the dark hall, she felt a familiar thick, wet tongue slide up her neck before she heard him whisper hotly into her ear, “Mmmmm, tasty.”