26 Sep Pongo

Part I

James Walker pulled up to the curb of their new duplex, letting out a slow exhale. The move to the town of Ridgewood had taken longer than expected, and the sun was already starting to dip below the horizon. This was supposed to feel like a relief after all the months of planning, job interviews, and securing the offer that had brought them here. Instead, it felt strange—like stepping into a new life that didn’t quite fit yet. He glanced over at Sarah, who was in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone while their three boys in the backseat, Donovan, Elliot, and Lucas, peered out at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“This is it,” James said, forcing a smile. “Our new home.”

Sarah glanced up briefly from her phone, already familiar with the view. “At least the inside is nicer than the outside,” she murmured, trying to reassure herself as much as the kids. They’d done a walkthrough with the landlord a few weeks earlier, so they knew what to expect.

Donovan, the oldest at 14, stared out the window and smirked. “Looks like one of those houses from the scary movies. You know, the kind where people disappear.”

Elliot, ten years old, frowned at his brother. “Don’t say that, Donny.”

James shot Donovan a look through the rearview mirror. “Hey, knock it off. It’s a nice place. You’ll get used to it.”

“Does it have Wi-Fi?” Donovan asked, his smirk still firmly in place.

Before James could respond, Sarah opened her door and stepped out, taking a better look at their new surroundings. “Well, it’s not forever,” she said, her voice half reassuring, half resigned. “Just until we get settled in.”

James followed her lead, getting out of the car and heading to the trunk to start unloading the luggage. As he did, he noticed movement across the street. A couple was walking over—he recognized the man immediately. It was Nathan, their landlord, whom he had already met during the earlier walkthrough. But the woman beside him, shorter and full of energy, was someone James hadn’t met before.

“Hi there!” the woman called out as they crossed the street, her voice bright and welcoming. “You must be the Walkers! I’m Kayla, Nathan’s wife.”

James waved, doing his best to appear friendly, though he was exhausted from the move. “Yeah, that’s us. Good to finally meet you, Kayla. I’m James, this is my wife, Sarah, and these are our boys.”

Kayla’s eyes lit up when she saw the boys climbing out of the car, full of curiosity. “Three boys! Oh, that must keep you busy. We don’t have kids ourselves yet, but I’ve always thought it would be fun.”

Nathan, who had been walking quietly beside her, gave James a brief nod of recognition. His demeanor was as it had been during the walkthrough—friendly enough but with an edge of seriousness that suggested he preferred to keep things professional.

“Good to see you again, James,” Nathan said with a firm handshake. “Glad to see you and the family made it here safely.”

“Thanks,” James replied, shaking his hand. “It’s been a long day, but we’re here.”

Kayla crouched down slightly, addressing the boys. “And you must be Donovan, Elliot, and Lucas, right? I’m sure you’ll love it here! It’s such a quiet neighborhood—perfect for families.”

Donovan, still skeptical, muttered under his breath, “Too quiet.”

James gave him a sharp look before turning back to Kayla. “Yeah, the boys are excited,” he said, though Donovan’s sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed.

Just then, Charlie, their small Jack-Russell mix, started barking excitedly from the back of the car. James popped the trunk, and the little dog shot out like a rocket, darting around the yard, sniffing everything.

“Oh my goodness, he’s adorable!” Kayla exclaimed, crouching down to greet Charlie, who wagged his tail furiously and licked her hand.

Nathan raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained as neutral as ever. “Small dog,” he commented. “Shouldn’t cause any problems.”

James smiled, hoping to keep things light. “Yeah, Charlie’s a good dog. Full of energy, but he’s great with the kids.”

Kayla stood up, brushing some dog hair off her jeans. “Well, we’re getting a dog of our own in three weeks! His name is Pongo. He’s a rescue, a mixed breed like your Charlie. We’re so excited—it’ll be our first dog.”

“A dog, huh?” Sarah said, smiling politely. “That’s great. Maybe Charlie and Pongo will get along.”

“Oh, they’ll be best buds, I’m sure!” Kayla beamed. “Maybe we can even set up a playdate once Pongo’s settled in.”

James returned her smile, though the idea of a doggy playdate wasn’t exactly high on his list of priorities. “Yeah, maybe,” he said noncommittally.

Nathan’s gaze shifted back to the house, and for a moment, James wondered if he was silently judging how quickly—or slowly—they were settling in.

“Well,” Kayla said, sensing the need to wrap up the conversation, “we won’t keep you from unpacking. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. We’re just across the street.”

“Thanks,” Sarah said with a polite wave. “We’ll definitely let you know if we need anything.”

Nathan and Kayla turned and walked back across the street, but Kayla glanced over her shoulder one last time, still smiling. “This neighborhood is perfect for families. You’ll see.”

As they disappeared back into their duplex, James exhaled, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders. He turned to Sarah, who was already directing the boys to grab their things from the car.

“They seem nice enough,” James said, chuckling lightly.

Sarah nodded but looked thoughtful. “Yeah, nice. But… Nathan’s a little intense, don’t you think? And Kayla, well… she’s a lot.”

James shrugged. “Nathan’s just a typical landlord, probably just making sure we’re decent tenants. As for Kayla, she seems harmless. Just excited about their dog, I guess.”

“Maybe,” Sarah said, glancing across the street one more time before turning her attention back to the house. “Well, let’s get this over with. I want to get the boys settled before it gets too late.”

* * * * * *

The rest of the evening passed in a flurry of unpacking and trying to wrangle the kids into some sort of routine. Donovan had staked his claim on the upstairs room with the best view, while Elliot and Lucas were sharing a room down the hall. Charlie darted back and forth, sniffing at every corner of their new home.

James stood in the kitchen, sipping from a cold glass of water, staring out the back window. The yard was small but fenced in—perfect for Charlie to run around. As if on cue, Charlie raced out the back door, barking at a bird that had briefly landed on the fence. James smiled to himself, but there was still that nagging feeling at the back of his mind. Maybe it was the stress of the move, or maybe it was just the unfamiliarity of a new place.

“Hey, don’t forget to feed Charlie,” Sarah called from the living room, where she was helping Lucas set up a board game.

“I got it,” James replied, reaching into a box marked “kitchen” for the dog food. He poured some into Charlie’s bowl and set it down by the sliding glass door, watching as the dog eagerly chowed down.

Out of the corner of his eye, James glanced across the street, where Kayla and Nathan’s house was softly illuminated by their porch light. He could see Kayla moving around inside, perhaps tidying up after dinner. Nathan wasn’t in sight, though.

The neighborhood was quiet—just like Kayla had promised. Maybe too quiet.

James shook his head, trying to shrug off the unease. They had just moved in. Everything would start to feel normal soon. Right?

At least, that’s what he hoped.

Part II

Three weeks passed quickly, and by then, the Walker family had settled into their new home. The days felt long and uneventful, the neighborhood as quiet as Kayla had promised. Still, James couldn’t shake the subtle, creeping sense that something was off. It was nothing he could put his finger on—just a vague feeling that lingered in the back of his mind.

One evening, Sarah came into the room with a raised eyebrow. “You hear about Pongo?”

James looked up from his laptop. “What about him?”

“Kayla texted me. They picked him up this afternoon. He’s home now.”

James leaned back in his chair. “Well, there he is.”

Sarah shrugged. “I guess we should expect that doggy playdate she kept talking about.”

James laughed lightly. “Yeah, I figured she wouldn’t let that go.”

But that night, when James peeked out the window, Pongo didn’t seem like the ordinary dog Kayla had been so excited about. The dog stood in Nathan and Kayla’s yard, his dark shape barely visible in the dim glow of the porch light. He was much larger than James had expected, tall and lanky with unkempt fur that seemed to bristle even when there was no wind.

Pongo’s movements were strange too—too deliberate, as if he were constantly aware of every shift in his body. His head snapped toward James’ window, and for a moment, James swore the dog was staring directly at him. A chill ran down his spine.

After a long moment, Pongo turned and trotted back to the porch, where he curled up but kept his eyes open, watching the street. James shook his head, trying to shrug off the unease. It was just a dog. A rescue dog, no less. He was probably still getting used to his surroundings.

But something about Pongo’s gaze stuck with him.

* * * * * *

The next evening, James and Donovan went out for their usual bike ride around the neighborhood. The sun was setting, and the sound of distant highway traffic hummed faintly in the background.

As they pedaled through the quiet streets, Donovan suddenly slowed down, pointing toward the far end of the block. “Dad, look.”

James followed his son’s gaze. Standing just outside Nathan and Kayla’s yard was Pongo, watching them. The dog’s posture was stiff, his head tilted slightly as though he were listening to something.

James frowned. “He’s probably just curious.”

Donovan stopped his bike entirely, staring at Pongo. “There’s something weird about him.”

James glanced at his son. “Donny, he’s just a dog. He’s probably still getting used to the neighborhood, that’s all.”

Donovan shook his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s the way he’s standing. Like he’s waiting for something.”

Before James could respond, Donovan’s face went pale, and he turned to his dad, wide-eyed. “Did you hear that?”

James furrowed his brow. “Hear what?”

Donovan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s… talking.”

James blinked. “Talking? You mean barking?”

Donovan shook his head, his face serious. “No, I swear I heard him. He said something.”

James listened, but all he could hear was the steady hum of the highway in the distance. “You’re just hearing the noise from the highway, buddy. Sound carries weird around here.”

But Donovan wasn’t convinced. “Dad, I heard him. It wasn’t just noise. It was like… whispering. From the dog.”

James sighed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Look, I’m sure it was just the wind or something. Pongo’s not talking.”

Just as James said that, Pongo’s ears perked up, and his head turned sharply toward them. The dog stared for a long moment, his eyes gleaming in the fading light. Without warning, Pongo took a step forward, his gaze still locked on them.

Then, just as suddenly, he leapt over the fence and disappeared into Nathan and Kayla’s yard, as if nothing had happened.

James felt his chest tighten. “Come on, let’s head back.”

* * * * * *

That night, James sat on the couch, the TV on in the background while Sarah folded laundry next to him. The boys had gone to bed, but Donovan’s words from earlier echoed in his mind. He’s talking. It wasn’t the first time Donovan had let his imagination get the better of him, but this felt different.

James glanced out the window, his eyes immediately landing on Pongo, who was sitting in Nathan and Kayla’s yard. The dog was still, staring into the street, his head slightly cocked as though listening for something. James shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but his unease grew.

“James?” Sarah’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You okay?”

“Huh?” James blinked, turning back to her.

“You’ve been staring out that window for like ten minutes,” Sarah said with a small smile. “What’s up?”

James hesitated, then sighed. “It’s Pongo. Donovan swears he heard him… talking.”

Sarah laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Talking? That’s new. What did he think the dog said?”

James shrugged, still feeling a bit ridiculous. “He couldn’t make it out, but he said it wasn’t barking. It was like whispers.”

Sarah set down the laundry and turned to face him. “You think he actually heard something?”

“I don’t know,” James admitted. “But Pongo’s… strange. The way he moves, the way he looks at you. I know it sounds crazy, but he doesn’t seem like a normal dog.”

Sarah studied his face for a moment, then sighed. “I think you’re both just on edge. New house, new neighborhood, new dog next door—it’s a lot of change. The kids are probably feeling it more than we realize.”

“Maybe,” James said, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

* * * * * *

The next day, Kayla texted Sarah, eager to set up the doggy playdate she had mentioned weeks earlier. Despite James’ growing unease about Pongo, Sarah agreed—it was better to stay on good terms with the landlords, after all. Maybe letting the dogs meet would ease everyone’s nerves.

That afternoon, Kayla brought Pongo over, her usual bubbly smile plastered across her face. “Here we are!” she announced as Pongo padded into the yard. “He’s been so excited to meet his new friend.”

James stood by the back door, watching with crossed arms as Charlie, their Jack Russell mix, approached Pongo cautiously. Charlie was normally friendly and energetic, but today, something seemed to hold him back. His fur bristled, and he sniffed the air around Pongo without getting too close.

Pongo stood still, his dark eyes following Charlie’s every move.

“Come on, Charlie,” Sarah said, encouraging their dog. “It’s okay. It’s just Pongo.”

But Charlie didn’t seem reassured. A low growl rumbled from his throat, something James had never heard before. The small dog’s teeth bared as he snapped at Pongo, lunging forward.

Kayla gasped, clearly startled. “Oh my goodness! Pongo’s never been attacked like that.”

James stepped forward quickly, calling Charlie back. “Charlie, hey! What’s going on?”

Pongo remained perfectly calm, his expression passive, almost pitiful, as he stepped back and gave a soft whine. Kayla knelt beside him, stroking his head. “Poor thing. I’ve never seen a dog react to him that way.”

James could feel the tension building. “Charlie’s usually fine around other dogs. I don’t know why he’s acting like this.”

Pongo glanced at Charlie, his eyes narrowing slightly before looking back at Kayla, who stood up and brushed off her pants.

“Maybe they’re just not a good match,” Kayla said, her voice a little less enthusiastic than usual. “We’ll try again another time.”

James nodded, though a knot of dread formed in his stomach. “Yeah, maybe.”

As Kayla led Pongo back across the street, James felt a strange sense of relief but also a nagging certainty that something wasn’t right. He looked down at Charlie, who had retreated to the far corner of the yard, still watching the fence where Pongo had just disappeared.

James stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the quiet settle around him. The tension in the air wasn’t just between the dogs. It was something else, something lurking beneath the surface, just out of sight.

As he glanced back across the street, Pongo was there, staring again, his dark eyes gleaming in the fading afternoon light.

The feeling was back—stronger than before.

Part III

It had been a few days since the failed doggy playdate, and the tension between the Walkers and their landlords had grown noticeably thicker. James couldn’t shake the feeling that Pongo was always watching them, his dark eyes gleaming through the fence whenever they stepped outside. Even Charlie, their usually spirited Jack Russell mix, was on edge, growling low whenever Pongo was nearby.

One night, after a long day at work, James sat in his office upstairs, catching up on some emails. The house was quiet, save for the faint sounds of Sarah cleaning up downstairs and the boys getting ready for bed. Outside, the familiar hum of distant highway traffic filled the air. It had become part of the background noise of their new life, but tonight, it felt more oppressive than usual.

Charlie had been let out into the fenced-in backyard to go to the bathroom, and James could hear his little paws scuffling in the grass. It was routine by now—Charlie would do his business, then sniff around for a while before coming back inside.

As James rubbed his tired eyes, a sudden noise cut through the stillness—Charlie’s frantic barking from the backyard.

“Not again,” James muttered, standing up and moving toward the window. He pulled back the curtain and peered into the yard, his heart immediately sinking.

Charlie was standing near the back fence, his small body tense, barking wildly. His focus was locked on something just outside the fence. James squinted through the dim light and saw it—Pongo. The dog was pacing slowly along the perimeter of the Walker’s yard, his movements unnervingly graceful. Pongo stopped every few steps to stare at Charlie, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight.

James grabbed his phone and quickly texted Nathan:

James: Hey, your dog is loose again. He’s pacing outside our yard, and Charlie is going nuts.

Nathan’s reply came faster than James expected.

Nathan: Pongo’s inside. Must be another dog.

James glanced down at the text, then back outside, his stomach twisting. There was no mistake—that was definitely Pongo, pacing along the edge of their yard like a predator stalking its prey.

Before James could respond, the situation escalated.

Pongo stopped pacing and stood still for a moment, his eyes locked onto Charlie. Then, in a flash of movement, he leaped over the fence into the Walker’s yard. James’ heart skipped a beat as he watched in disbelief. Pongo landed with terrifying precision, his body low to the ground, and began moving toward Charlie.

James slammed his hand against the window. “Hey!”

But it was too late. In a blur of motion, Pongo lunged at Charlie, his massive jaws snapping down with a sickening crunch. Charlie yelped in pain, his small body twisting as he tried to escape the onslaught. The sight of it—the raw brutality of Pongo’s attack—made James’ blood run cold.

He bolted from the room, racing down the stairs two at a time.

“Sarah! Pongo’s in the yard! He’s got Charlie!”

Sarah appeared in the hallway, her face pale with shock. “What? How?”

“I don’t know!” James yelled, throwing open the back door. “Keep the boys inside!”

James ran into the yard, his heart pounding in his ears. By the time he reached the scene, Charlie had managed to slip away, limping toward the corner of the yard where he cowered behind a bush. Pongo stood over him, breathing heavily, his muzzle slick with blood. The large dog turned slowly to face James, his eyes dark and unreadable.

James didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a nearby shovel, brandishing it between himself and Pongo. “Get away from him!”

For a long, terrifying moment, Pongo didn’t move. He simply stood there, watching James with an intensity that felt disturbingly human. Then, as if deciding he had done enough for the night, Pongo turned and leapt back over the fence in one fluid motion, disappearing into the darkness.

James dropped the shovel and rushed over to Charlie, who was whimpering in pain. The small dog’s side was covered in scratches and puncture wounds, his fur matted with blood. James gently picked him up, cradling him in his arms.

Sarah appeared at the back door, her face twisted with worry. “Oh my God, is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” James said, his voice shaking. “I think he’s hurt bad. We need to get him to the vet.”

* * * * * *

Charlie survived the night, but barely. The vet had stitched him up, giving him pain medication and strict instructions for his recovery. The attack had left the little dog terrified, his once-energetic personality replaced with a constant nervousness. He barely moved from his bed, and whenever he heard the faintest noise outside, he’d start growling low in his throat.

The Walkers were shaken, but none more so than James. He couldn’t get the image of Pongo’s attack out of his mind—the deliberate, almost calculated way the dog had moved, the unsettling calm that had followed.

The next morning, James called the police.

An officer arrived later that day, and James recounted everything that had happened, trying to keep his voice steady as he described Pongo’s violent behavior.

“Look, I know this sounds crazy, but that dog… it’s not normal. I’ve seen him loose more than once, and I’ve heard him at night. He’s dangerous.”

The officer, a tall man in his mid-40s with a tired expression, nodded as he took notes. “You’re saying the dog jumped the fence? Twice?”

“Yeah,” James replied. “I saw him do it with my own eyes. He got into our yard and attacked Charlie.”

“Did you confront the owners?” the officer asked.

James hesitated. “Not yet. But I texted Nathan when it happened, and he insisted Pongo was inside.”

The officer sighed and looked toward Nathan and Kayla’s house. “I’ll go talk to them. But without any solid proof, it’s hard to take action. If their dog is dangerous, though, we’ll make sure it’s handled.”

James nodded, though he could feel the weight of doubt settling on his shoulders.

The officer knocked on Nathan’s door, and a few moments later, Nathan appeared, his face impassive as always. James watched from his porch as the officer spoke to him, gesturing toward their yard. Nathan’s expression never changed.

When the officer finally left, Nathan walked over to James, his jaw tight. “You’re making a mistake,” Nathan said, his voice low. “Accusing Pongo of something like this. If you keep making false accusations, it’s going to be a problem for you and your family.”

James narrowed his eyes. “My dog almost died, Nathan. Pongo did this.”

Nathan’s gaze hardened. “You need to be careful, James. We don’t tolerate threats. If you’re going to live here, you better learn to get along with the neighbors. Otherwise, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to live.”

The unspoken threat hung in the air as Nathan turned and walked back to his house, leaving James standing on his porch, fists clenched.

Part IV

The days that followed were tense. Charlie’s wounds healed slowly, but the emotional scars lingered. He refused to go outside unless one of the Walkers was with him, and even then, he’d bark and growl at every sound, his eyes constantly scanning the fence.

James couldn’t stop thinking about Pongo. He’d seen the dog around the yard more frequently now, but something had changed. Whenever Pongo spotted James, his behavior seemed to shift—he’d stop whatever he was doing and stare, his eyes locked onto James as if silently daring him to make a move. It felt like a battle of wills, but the problem was that James didn’t know exactly what he was up against.

One night, as James worked late in his upstairs office, he glanced out the window and froze. Pongo was outside again, but this time, he wasn’t near the Walker’s fence.

Across the street, in Nathan and Kayla’s yard, Pongo was dragging something—something small. James squinted, his breath catching in his throat as the full horror of what he was seeing set in.

It wasn’t an object or an animal. Pongo was dragging the lifeless body of a small child.

James pressed his face against the glass, his heart pounding. He watched in silent horror as Pongo moved with unnatural grace, pulling the body toward a drainage ditch near the edge of Nathan and Kayla’s property. The dog began digging furiously, creating a shallow grave. Within moments, the body disappeared beneath the dirt.

James felt his stomach lurch. He stumbled away from the window, his mind racing.

Just as Pongo finished burying the body, he looked up, his dark eyes locking onto James. Their gazes met across the street, and for a chilling moment, James felt as though Pongo knew exactly what he had seen. The dog’s expression was unreadable, but the intensity in his stare carried a clear, unspoken threat.

James turned and bolted from the room, rushing to his bedroom where Sarah was already asleep. He shook her awake, his voice trembling. “Sarah… we’re not safe. I saw something. I saw Pongo… he buried a child in Nathan’s yard.”

Sarah blinked groggily, clearly not understanding. “What? James, what are you talking about?”

“I saw him!” James insisted, his voice urgent. “We have to call the police!”

Sarah sat up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to process what he was saying. “James, that’s… that’s impossible. Are you sure? Maybe you’re just overtired—”

James shook his head violently. “No, Sarah. I’m telling you, I saw it with my own eyes. Pongo dragged a child into their yard and buried him. He looked right at me. He knows I saw it.”

Sarah stared at him, her expression torn between disbelief and concern. But she could see the fear etched into his face, the desperation in his eyes. She knew James well enough to understand he wasn’t someone prone to hysteria.

She finally sighed, her voice softening. “Okay. Let’s deal with this in the morning. We’ll call the police first thing. Right now, we need to stay calm.”

James nodded, though his heart still raced. “We don’t have much time, Sarah. That dog… he’s not normal. I’m not even sure Nathan and Kayla know what’s going on.”

“I know,” she said, putting a hand on his arm to calm him. “But let’s just get through the night.”

James reluctantly agreed, though he barely slept. Every creak of the house, every gust of wind outside, had him sitting up, his mind flashing back to Pongo’s stare. The clock ticked slowly, each minute dragging on as if the night would never end.

* * * * * *

Morning came, bringing with it the harsh light of reality. The fear James had felt the night before hadn’t faded, but it was joined now by a sense of urgency. As soon as they were up, James and Sarah called the police, reporting what James had seen.

Two officers arrived not long after, both of them with that tired look that small-town cops often had—used to dealing with minor disturbances, not claims of a neighbor’s dog burying a body. Still, they took James’ story seriously, and after questioning him and Sarah, they agreed to investigate the area where the child had been buried.

James led the officers across the street to Nathan and Kayla’s yard, pointing to the drainage ditch at the edge of the property. His heart pounded as they approached. He wasn’t sure what to expect—was the body still there? Would Pongo be lurking somewhere, watching them?

One of the officers knelt down and examined the soil where James had seen Pongo digging the night before. His flashlight flickered over the disturbed earth, revealing a shallow but freshly dug hole.

The officer sighed, glancing at James. “I can see something was definitely buried here,” he said. “But there’s no proof it was a child or anything alive.”

James frowned. “But Pongo was dragging a body, I’m telling you.”

The officer stood up, dusting his hands off. “Dogs bury all kinds of things—bones, toys, even small animals. It’s not unusual for them to dig things up and move them around later. But without clear evidence that it was a human body, we can’t take any immediate action.”

James felt frustration building in his chest. “You have to do something. That hole proves the dog is leaving their yard—Nathan lied about it.”

The officer’s partner stepped forward. “We’ll talk to Nathan. It’s definitely concerning if the dog’s been getting loose. But without knowing for sure what Pongo buried, it’s hard to press the issue further. If a child were missing, we’d have heard about it by now.”

As if on cue, the officer’s radio crackled to life. The sound of a dispatcher’s voice came through, distorted but clear enough to hear.

“All units, be advised, we have a report of a missing child in the area—”

The officers exchanged a look, and James’ heart dropped into his stomach. The officer with the radio lifted it to his mouth.

“Copy that. What’s the location?”

The radio buzzed with static before the dispatcher’s voice returned.

“Last seen near Mill Street… just a block from your current location.”

James felt like the world had tilted beneath him. He turned to the officers, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s him. It’s the child Pongo buried. I told you.”

The officer who had been speaking to James finally nodded, his tone more serious. “We’ll investigate this further now that we have a missing persons report. You might have been right about more than just the dog getting loose.”

James said nothing as they left, his mind spinning. He turned back toward his house, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. He knew this was far from over. Pongo had already proven how dangerous he could be, and the police were only just beginning to catch on.

* * * * * *

Back at their house, James paced the living room while Sarah sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at her coffee. The kids were playing quietly in their rooms, unaware of the storm brewing outside.

“How could the body just disappear?” James muttered. “Pongo must have moved it. He’s covering his tracks.”

Sarah sighed, her voice weary. “I don’t know, James. This is all so… unreal. How can a dog be doing this?”

James stopped pacing and turned to her, his eyes full of frustration. “I don’t know, Sarah! But it’s happening! That dog isn’t normal. I’ve seen the way he moves, the way he looks at us. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Sarah rubbed her temples. “Nathan and Kayla are going to think we’re insane. They already think we’re causing trouble.”

James clenched his fists. “They’re blind to it, or worse, they’re covering for him. Either way, we’re not safe here.”

Just as Sarah was about to respond, there was a knock at the door. James tensed, his mind immediately flashing to Pongo. But when he opened the door, it was Nathan standing on the porch, his arms crossed, his face set in a cold, hard line.

“We need to talk,” Nathan said, his voice low and threatening.

James stepped outside, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

Nathan glanced at the police car that was still parked further down the street. “You’ve crossed a line, James. Accusing my dog of something like this? You better be careful with what you’re saying.”

James stood his ground, his fear giving way to anger. “Your dog did this, Nathan. I saw him burying a child in your yard last night. You think I’m making this up?”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Pongo’s innocent. If you keep spreading these lies, I’ll make sure you and your family are out on the street. We don’t tolerate troublemakers here.”

James stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your dog is dangerous. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. And if you don’t do something about him, I will.”

Nathan smirked. “You’re not going to win this, James.”

With that, he turned and walked back across the street, leaving James standing on the porch, fists clenched and heart racing.

Part V

That night, as James was taking out the trash, the uneasy feeling in his chest only grew stronger. The streets were quiet, but the air felt thick, as though something was waiting just out of sight.

As he approached the driveway, he froze.

There, in the dim light, Pongo was standing at the edge of their property. His dark eyes gleamed, and in his jaws was something unmistakable—a small, lifeless body.

James felt the blood drain from his face as Pongo slowly dragged the body up the driveway, dropping it in front of him with a wet, sickening thud. Blood dripped from the dog’s muzzle, which he calmly licked away.

James couldn’t move. His body felt paralyzed by fear, his mind spinning.

Pongo looked up at him, and then—unbelievably—he spoke.

“You don’t know… what you’re dealing with.”

James blinked, unable to process the words. “What… what are you?”

Pongo licked his lips, his voice a guttural rasp. “You’ll learn… in due time.”

James’ legs finally unlocked, and he stumbled back toward the house. Pongo watched him the whole way, his eyes gleaming with malevolent intelligence.

“You’ll leave,” Pongo said, his voice barely a whisper now. “Or your children… will be next.”

James bolted for the door, slamming it shut behind him, his heart thundering in his chest. He leaned against the door, trying to steady his breathing, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed.

Sarah rushed into the hallway, her face full of alarm. “What happened? What’s going on?”

James stared at her, wide-eyed, his voice trembling. “We have to leave, Sarah. Now. Before it’s too late.”

* * * * * *

The night passed in an uneasy silence, with James lying awake, every creak of the house and howl of the wind setting him on edge. Pongo’s threat, his terrifying rasp, echoed in his mind over and over: “Your children will be next.” He couldn’t shake the image of the lifeless body dropped at his feet. He knew he couldn’t wait for anything else to happen. They needed to leave. Now.

At first light, James sprang out of bed, his decision made. He wouldn’t risk his family’s lives any longer. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

“Sarah,” James whispered urgently as he shook her awake. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

Sarah blinked groggily, her eyes wide with confusion as she slowly sat up. “What? What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re leaving now. We have to pack and get the boys ready. Pongo’s watching us, and I’m not going to wait for something worse to happen.”

Sarah’s face tensed as she remembered the terror from the night before. “Are you sure? The police—”

“The police won’t help. They don’t understand what we’re dealing with.” James’s voice was firm, his mind set. “Please, just trust me. We need to go.”

Sarah hesitated for only a moment before nodding. She threw off the covers and followed him out of the bedroom, her heart pounding as the urgency of the situation settled in. They had no time to waste.

* * * * * *

The house was a blur of activity as James and Sarah scrambled to gather their things. They moved quickly and quietly, not wanting to wake the kids until the last possible moment. James packed what he could—essentials, clothes, whatever could fit in the car. As he zipped up a suitcase, his hands trembled. The thought of Pongo, lurking just outside, kept gnawing at the back of his mind.

Finally, James woke Donovan, Elliot, and Lucas. “Get dressed, boys. We’re leaving.”

Donovan rubbed his eyes, confused. “Why are we leaving? It’s so early.”

James tried to keep his voice calm, though the edge of fear crept in. “We just need to go, okay? I’ll explain later. Just grab your things.”

The boys groggily complied, shuffling through their rooms to grab their belongings, their tired minds not yet aware of the tension that filled the house.

As the family packed the last of their things into the car, James could feel the weight of the morning pressing down on him. The air felt thick with an invisible presence, and James knew—he knew—that Pongo was watching. He couldn’t see the dog, but the feeling of being observed was unmistakable.

James slammed the trunk shut and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. Almost there. Just a few more steps and they would be on the road, far from this nightmare.

As he got into the driver’s seat, Sarah climbed in beside him, her face pale and drawn. “Do you think… do you think he’s out there?”

“I don’t know,” James admitted, glancing at her as he started the car. “But we’re not waiting to find out.”

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. They were just about to pull out of the driveway when Donovan, sitting in the backseat, suddenly spoke up.

“Dad…” Donovan’s voice was low, filled with a mix of fear and disbelief. “Dad, look.”

James glanced into the rearview mirror, his heart sinking as he saw what Donovan had spotted.

There, sitting calmly at the edge of their lawn, was Pongo.

The dog’s dark eyes gleamed in the early morning light, his posture unnervingly still. He wasn’t pacing, wasn’t barking. He was just sitting there, as if he knew exactly what was happening. Watching them leave. Watching them run.

James gritted his teeth, trying to force his eyes away from the creature. He could feel the malevolent intelligence behind that stare, the unspoken threat lingering in the air.

“Don’t look at him,” James muttered, his voice tense. “Just… don’t look.”

The boys were silent, their wide eyes fixed on the eerie figure of the dog. Even Sarah, who had tried so hard to rationalize everything, was now fully aware of the danger they were leaving behind.

James slowly backed the car out of the driveway, his eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror. Pongo didn’t move. He simply sat there, his eyes following them as they pulled onto the street and drove away.

As they sped out of the neighborhood, the tension in the car was palpable. No one spoke for a long time, the only sound the hum of the tires on the road. James kept checking the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see Pongo chasing after them, but there was nothing. Just the empty road behind them.

After what felt like hours, Sarah finally broke the silence. “Where are we going?”

James shook his head. “I don’t know. Somewhere far from here. As far as we can get.”

“We can’t just keep driving forever,” Sarah said softly. “We’ll have to stop eventually.”

“I know,” James muttered. “But I need to get us away from him. I don’t care where, as long as it’s away.”

Part VI

Hours passed as they drove further and further from the town that had become a nightmare. The landscape changed, becoming more rural and isolated. The kids had fallen asleep in the backseat, exhausted from the sudden departure, but James couldn’t relax. Every mile felt like they were still too close.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached a small, nondescript motel on the edge of a quiet highway. James pulled into the parking lot, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Pongo. Nothing. It was quiet. Safe.

“Let’s stay here for now,” James said, his voice tired but resolute. “We’ll figure out our next steps in the morning.”

Sarah nodded, and together they quietly woke the boys and gathered their things. The motel room was small, but it felt like a refuge after the tension of the past few days. James locked the door behind them, double-checking the windows to make sure everything was secure.

As they settled into the room, the weight of the last 24 hours finally hit him. They had made it out. They were safe… for now.

* * * * * *

After leaving the duplex, James and Sarah had made a decision. They couldn’t go back, not even to collect their things. It was too risky. Pongo was out there, lurking in the shadows, and James wasn’t willing to take any chances. Instead, they paid movers to retrieve their belongings, packing up everything they had left behind. The movers, unaware of the terror James and his family had endured, simply did their job—packing furniture, clothes, and toys, and delivering it all to their new apartment in another town.

The Walkers had also agreed to let Nathan sublet the duplex. James had avoided direct contact with him, handling everything through a curt, professional message exchange. Within a week, Nathan had rented the place to a new family—the Spencers, a couple with two young children of their own. They moved in quickly, filling the home with life again. And though James tried to forget, the guilt gnawed at him. He had knowingly let another family walk into what could be a deadly trap.

James rationalized it to himself over and over: I did what I had to do to protect my own family. We had no choice. We couldn’t stay. But it didn’t erase the heavy feeling in his chest, the sick realization that he had likely led others into danger. A part of him wondered if he should have warned them. But how could he? Who would believe him? And more than anything, James needed to believe that they were safe—that he had left the nightmare behind.

For a few weeks, things seemed to settle down. The boys were adjusting to their new school, and Sarah found some peace in their new life, throwing herself into her work. But James could never fully relax. The feeling of being watched never left him, and the quiet dread still lingered at the edge of his thoughts. He spent late nights checking the news, fearing any mention of Ridgewood, bracing for the inevitable.

And then, one night, the news broke.

James sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and scrolling through his phone when a headline caught his eye:

“Two Missing Children in Ridgewood: Police Investigate Rash of Disappearances.”

His heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. His eyes scanned the article quickly, his stomach sinking with every word.

“Authorities are investigating the disappearance of two young children from the Spencer family, who recently moved into a duplex in the Ridgewood neighborhood. The children, identified as 5-year-old Ella and 7-year-old Lucas Spencer, were last seen playing in their front yard on Mill Street before vanishing without a trace. Their parents, Jonathan and Melissa Spencer, are alive but devastated by the loss of their children and are cooperating fully with investigators.”

James’ coffee cup slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor, spilling across the tiles. He barely noticed. His worst fears had come true. The Spencers—the family that had moved into his old home—had lost their children. And he had let it happen.

The article continued:

“The disappearance of the Spencer children is the latest in a series of unsettling cases in the Ridgewood area, where several children have gone missing in recent months. Authorities have not yet made any arrests, but they are pursuing leads and have urged the community to remain vigilant. While the police have not confirmed any connection between the cases, residents are growing increasingly fearful. No bodies have been recovered.”

James’ hands shook as he set his phone down. He could feel the guilt rising in his chest like a tidal wave, suffocating him. He had known something was wrong with that house, with Pongo, and yet, he had let another family move in. He had done nothing to stop it.

Sarah walked into the kitchen, noticing his pale face and the shattered cup on the floor. “James, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

James opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just pointed at the phone, his hand trembling. Sarah picked it up and began reading, her eyes widening as she absorbed the news.

“They’re… missing?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “The children…”

James nodded, his throat tight. “I… I let them move in, Sarah. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t warn them.”

Sarah sat down next to him, her hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known for sure. We were trying to protect our family. You did what you had to do.”

But James shook his head. “I knew. I knew something was wrong. And now two kids are gone.”

They sat in silence for a long time, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both. The new family had trusted the Walkers’ old home, oblivious to the horrors that lurked just beyond the front yard. And now, like so many others, their children were missing, with no trace and no answers.

The guilt gnawed at James, but he tried to push it down. He had done what any father would—he had saved his family. But at what cost?

The police were investigating, the article said. They were looking into leads, but no arrests had been made. No suspects. No bodies. Just a growing sense of dread that something unspeakable was happening in Ridgewood.

James closed his eyes, the image of the canine’s dark, watchful gaze burning into his memory. He didn’t know where the dog was now—if he still prowled the streets of their former neighborhood, or if he had moved on. But James knew the truth, deep in his gut. Even if the news called it a mystery, even if the police continued their investigation…

Pongo was still out there.

Epilogue

In the dead of night, beneath the dim glow of a pale, cold moon, the woods outside Ridgewood were eerily silent. The ground was wet, soft from recent rains, the scent of earth heavy in the air. Not far from the main road, hidden deep within the underbrush where no one would think to look, where the moonlight barely broke through the dense canopy, a dark figure navigated the trees with unsettling grace, its steps measured and unhurried.

Pongo, his muzzle slick with fresh blood, moved through the undergrowth with eerie precision, dragging a small, lifeless body behind him. The child’s limbs scraped through the dirt, their weight no burden to Pongo as he guided the body toward its final resting place—a pit at the edge of a clearing, hidden just beyond the dense foliage. As he neared his destination, his steps slowed.

Approaching the hole, Pongo dropped the body at the edge with practiced ease. He paused for a moment, his breath steady, the night eerily calm around him. The moonlight glinted off his blood-soaked fur, casting an almost serene glow over the grotesque scene.

He nudged the body closer with his nose, sending the corpse tumbling into the chasm, where it landed with a sickening thud. The moonlight, creeping through the trees, illuminated the true extent of the carnage. Beneath the latest body, there were more—many, many more.

Dozens of small, broken forms filled the open grave. The twisted limbs of children long gone, their lifeless faces obscured by dirt and decay. Some were little more than bones wrapped in tattered clothing, their features twisted in frozen terror. Over a dozen children lay there, piled atop one another, buried deep beneath the earth in this forgotten corner of the woods.

Pongo stepped back for just a moment, surveying his grim handiwork with a cold, twisted satisfaction, his dark eyes gleaming as he took in the sight. He wasn’t just a predator; he was an artist, and he had been doing this for far longer, and over a much larger area, than anyone in Ridgewood could have imagined.

Slowly, he turned back to the pile of freshly dug earth beside the pit. With calculated movements, he began using his paws to push the soil back into the hole, until at last nothing remained but an inconspicuous mound and the faint scent of blood on the breeze.

His macabre task complete, Pongo turned and padded silently back into the shadows, headed in the direction of Mill Street. There was more work to be done. So much more.