“You have to taint the dog.” The voice says. It is my own voice. I don’t know who I am speaking to or what the hell these words even mean.
I am being overtaken by a rising wave of panic. “Taint the dog. Taint the dog.”
Suddenly I realise that the person I am speaking to has a plastic dog stuffed in his mouth and his hands and feet are bound.
“Bad dog.” I say. “Bad dog.”
I can hardly move my tongue or formulate the words. They come out slurred and slowly, like a record being played at the wrong speed.
It’s too late. The incantation is failing. This dog is evil!
“FUCK OFF DOGGIE.” I shout, louder now, terror rising. “FUCK OFF.”
