As twilight settled, Jacob let his thoughts drift, the steady rhythm of Bernie’s steps a comforting presence beside him. It was just another ordinary evening—or so it seemed.
Jacob pushed open his front door and was greeted by Bernie’s eager eyes and wagging tail. “Alright, boy, let’s go,” he said, clipping on the leash as the dog danced with excitement. The faint scent of pine lingered in the cool evening air as they stepped outside.
Their walk followed the forest’s edge, where wildflowers bloomed in bursts of yellow and purple along the grassy border. Jacob inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp pine mingled with the sweetness of blooms.
Bernie trotted ahead, brisk and purposeful, occasionally pausing to sniff or paw at the earth. His instincts guided him. Jacob’s thoughts wandered in sync with the crunch of leaves beneath his boots.
Everything felt peaceful, ordinary—undisturbed.
Then Bernie froze. A low growl rumbled from his chest, pulling Jacob sharply from his calm. The dog’s ears pricked, eyes fixed on the darkening forest edge. Jacob squinted into the shadows—nothing but faint tree outlines swaying in the breeze.
“Come on, Bernie,” Jacob muttered, tugging gently on the leash, a flicker of unease prickling his calm. But before he could lead them home, Bernie bolted. The leash slipped from Jacob’s hands as the dog charged into the forest, the sudden force knocking Jacob off balance.
“Bernie, stop!” he shouted, scrambling up, heart racing. But Bernie was already a blur, vanishing into the dense undergrowth, the leash snagging on branches as it trailed behind.
Jacob’s heart pounded fiercely. For a moment, he froze, torn between calling out again and the dread that whatever had caught Bernie’s attention was something he didn’t want to face. Every instinct screamed to turn back, to return home and get help.