"The dog got into the toothpaste again."
You sigh as you get up off of the couch. "I'm busy!" you whine.
"Doing what?"
"...Stuff!"
"Well, your stuff can wait."
You groan loudly as you grab the carpet cleaner. You really hated your dog sometimes-he got into everything. Toys, stuffed animals, dolls... once he even chewed through the front door. You couldn't keep anything within that big German Shepherd's reach. How he'd gotten into the cupboard, you had no idea. Perhaps he'd hopped up on the counter.
As you walk up the stairs, the light turns off. Blackouts happened all the time here. No big deal. Nonetheless, your heart beats a little faster as thunder crashes and lightning lances across the hallway. The flashes illuminate the corridor for a brief second here and there, and you can see the toothpaste splashed all over the carpet. You sigh again, knowing you'd have to clean it up. Later, you decide. First, you need to find the dog and put him in his kennel, and throw away the toothpaste tube.
Then a revolting scent hits your nostrils. You retch and gaga as it fills your nose, sticking to your skin and clogging your senses. Maybe he'd thrown up after eating all that toothpaste. Yeah...that was it. Ugh, another mess to clean up...
You try the light in the bathroom, but it's still not working. Of course it isn't.
The smell's even worse in here. Then lightning flashes into the room, and in that moment of light, you see a scene so horrible you freeze in your tracks, unable to scream, run, or move a muscle.
The dog is crouched over a limp, bleeding figure. Your younger sister has a thick red liquid seeping from her neck, and her breathing is raspy and fading quickly. Scratches, bites, and claw marks cover her, and her hair is a tangled mess, dyed red in places by the fluids draining from her wounds. The dog's growling, and it turns to look at you. Foam and blood drips to the tiled floor, forming a pool around his paws. As he takes a menacing step towards you, you can only be sure of one thing.
That's not toothpaste on the carpet behind you. That's not toothpaste pooling around his paws, mixed with the blood of your sister. That's not toothpaste flying from his lips as he pounces.