Bitten

Suddenly, you hear nothing. No rain, no growls, nothing. Opening your eyes, you see nothing. The man, the wolf, the light, they've all simply vanished, giving way to emptiness. Is it over? Is this what **** is like? No... no, you can't be dead. If you were, the pair of canine teeth biting into your left ass cheek wouldn't be so painful.

You had fainted, but the latex werewolf latching on to your buttock has apparently jolted you back to consciousness. You almost scream from the pain, but then the beast that was a man just moments ago withdraws and slinks back to his creator, both of them fading into the shadows. Of course, you'd LOVE to wait for them to get back, but given that you have better things to do you decide that fleeing in terror would be the best thing you could do.

Eventually, you find yourself at home. As soon as you get into your bedroom, you check the bite. It's hard to get a good look at your own butt, but you can't find anything back there. No latex skin, no blood, nothing. Maybe your blood type or genes makes the infection slower in you, maybe it can't progress through the ass, maybe... maybe...

Maybe you imagined the whole thing. It seems real, but at this point, you're too tired to tell the difference anyway. It could all just be your mind's way of telling you to NEVER go for walks alone late at night or that you should hate dogs made of rubber or something. Yeah, that's it not the "rubber dog" thing, the "imagined" thing! It's been a long night and you just need a little bit of sleep, you tell yourself as you lie in bed and slowly drift away...