Happy Holidays, hamano_ayumi!
Title: Dog's Journey
Gift for: hamano_ayumi
Good Omens/Implications of Supernatural
From: briebribeez
Summary: The door to Hell is open, and Dog has a job to do.
Characters: All four Horsemen, The Them, Adam, and Dog.
Dog's Journey
It was a beautiful summer day on a wooded hillside. Wind blew over the leaves, tossing the trees back and forth. Dog sat, staring at the sky, waiting for someone. His head was tilted up, his eyes wide and bright, and his tongue lolled to the side out of his mouth. The breeze slowed, and the hair raised on the back of his neck as he sniffed and his tongue snapped into his mouth with a whup.
He stood slowly, turning his head to the side and ducking low, a growl building in his throat. No one there. He turned the other direction, backing up, and the growl erupted from his throat. Nothing there. He backed up to the tree, the growl growing and his hair standing up, and something thumped into his rear.
He yelped and whipped around, his fearful noises turning into harsh barks. Behind him in the shade of the trees, there was a figure, tall and narrow. The figure advanced menacingly, raising its limbs. Dog leapt forward, gnashing his teeth and reaching for the body before him. The figure moved back with rapidity, avoiding Dog's teeth and claws with ease. The figure spoke, flat and unreal.
“DOG, YOU ARE NOT EATING MY BONES. WE HAVE DISCUSSED THIS.” Death moved forward from the shadows, bone white and black.
The other Horsemen emerged from the shadows of the trees, War, Famine, and Pollution, grim and colored like cards in a deck. War's red hair blew in the wind gently, giving the impression more of a saint than the force of reckoning she was. Famine and Pollution stood, black against white, in odd parallels. Famine was sharp and sinister, while Pollution was unassuming and seemed to fade.
“WE HAVE WORK FOR YOU, DOG.”
War stepped forward, kneeling in front of Dog, and produced a collar of deep red leather from her pocket.
“This is so we don't lose you, and so you don't lose yourself.” She snapped it around his neck, and stepped back again.
Famine reached into his interior lapel pocket and pulled out a small silver bell. He tinkled it a little, and it was only audible to Dog's ears, the sound was so high pitched and tinny. As he snapped it to the collar, he stared into Dog's wide eyes and winked.
“They will hear this, and run.”
He stood and turned to Pollution, and they passed each other on the green grass as Famine returned to the shade. Pollution's gift was subtle, but Dog shivered as Pollution pet him and the slime spread over his back. The young man didn't say anything, but moved away, the grass slicked with oil beneath him.
“YOU WILL NOT DIE, THERE WILL BE SOME LIFE LEFT.” Death spoke as he moved towards Dog, and Dog cowered. “HELL IS NOT OPEN TO THE LIVING, BUT YOU MUST FIND WHERE IT IS OPEN FOR THEM TO LEAVE, AND COME BACK.”
Dog whimpered, but closed his eyes as Death swung his scythe in preparation.
Hell was so hot, so painfully bright and yet dark at the same time. It was as though he were alone in something afire, but alone was better than not. The acrid smell of sulphur burnt his nose and the heat made him pant, but he began to walk across the scalding surface beneath his paws. He walked on, further and farther, stopping only long enough to lick his paws when he could smell his toes burning. His haunches itched, like there were hundreds of fleas biting him at once, but he pressed on.
It seemed so long, the trek through the fires, and it was as though no one was there, until he heard a crowd ahead of him, screeching souls clawing at the walls of their burning prison. He came to them, ducking from their rage, but they placed their hands upon him to tear away his coat. Dog growled and raged, expecting pain, but their wails of terror were all he heard and a rush of heat as they moved away from him was all he felt. He looked at the souls, and some held their ears, while the ones that had touched him bit and tore at their own hands. He ran, his silver bell ringing all the way, clearing a path of freedom.
Ahead of the crowds was an opening, and he rushed forward, his paws barely touching the white hot stones beneath him. The souls pressed against him, wailing and bursting away when they felt his coat and heard the bell. His tongue hung out of his mouth, the drool evaporating before it could even build, and he panted and gasped as he reached the opening. He burst through into a graveyard.
There was a demon standing over a man that was holding a gun, while two other men tried to close the door to Hell behind them. There were spirits rushing all around, and Dog leaned back and howled as the gun was fired. The door closed, and Dog saw nothing but black.
--
The Them were running across the fields in Lower Tadfield, laughing and fighting with sticks. Pepper's hair blew in the wind, red against the blue sky, and she looked more a young woman than she once had. Adam was taller, stronger, and his smile was broader. As Brian ran up behind him, the grease streaks on his hands and cheeks were in glaring contrast to the clean, fastidious face and clothing of Wensleydale. Their chuckles and laughs echoed over the hills, carrying far.
The Horsemen looked on over Dog's body, and Death raised his skeletal hand as if to wave, but then they all backed away, into the shadows and through the wooded hill until they were gone. There was no trace but Dog's still body lying on the grass, next to oil residue and some litter.
Pepper landed a solid crack to Adam's cheek with the stick, and blood welled from a small cut. He grimaced and stopped moving suddenly. The rest of The Them followed suit, Pepper's eyes wide and wary as she dropped the stick. The laughter was gone. Adam's eyes were dark as he wiped his cheek with his hand, staring at the blood on his palm for a moment before he looked up again.
“Where is Dog?” He asked, his brow furrowed.
The Them began to search, yelling and calling loudly for Dog, running over the grass and flowers, trampling all of the colorful flora in their path. It was Brian who saw him first, and he let out a loud, uncomfortably high shout. They all crowded around the form on the ground, while Wensleydale touched the grass with the oil and quietly spoke to Adam.
“Does this look...familiar?”
Adam ignored him, wrapping his arms around Dog and patting him all over, as if trying to wake him or find some sign of life. His eyes were welled, and he said Dog's name over and over. Suddenly, Dog's body started, and he huffed out a breath. Adam made a surprised noise, jerking backwards, and saw Dog's open eyes. He laughed, and hugged Dog tightly.
“He's okay!”
The Them cheered, all of them piling around Dog, patting him and making whooping noises. Dog blinked, then wagged his tail wearily. He couldn't tell them what happened, but he was glad he was there, and that he was safe again. He let out a happy bark, and rolled on his back in the grass. It was a beautiful summer day...