Mi Tydo Ti Walker
No one would stay overnight in the house. The millionaire who had acquired it in a land swap puzzled over the rumors surrounding it. Some said it was haunted, others said the devil himself made it his summer home. Then, one day, a trembling homeless woman came to the millionaire and told him what she had seen.
"I din't wanna tell nobody," she whimpered to him. "But I 'ad to. Couldn't 'ave nobody dyin' no moh."
She told him about the one night she'd taken refuge in the house. Once the moon was high overhead and the coyotes woke her with their yipping, she stirred at the sound of a thump in the chimney. Rolling over and opening her eyes, she could not contain the scream that tore from her throat. A bloody head, eyes staring and jaw hanging slack, rolled out of the fireplace, leaving a smear of red across the floor.
Angry at his bad fortune, the millionaire thanked the woman and went immediately to the newspaper office in town. He paid for an ad with huge block letters to run in that Sunday's paper: $200 to Those Brave Enough to Stay.
He was surprised when a young boy, no more than thirteen or fourteen, rang his doorbell and accepted his offer, on one condition: that he could have his dog with him. The millionaire agreed and said the boy could come back for his payment the next day.
The boy's name was Carl, and his faithful golden lab was named Tiger. The two of them were infamous around town for their devil-may-care attitude about the many spirits rumored to walk the streets at night. Carl shouldered his backpack, whistled for Tiger, and went into the house without even pausing at the threshold.
To make things more cheerful, Carl started a fire in the chimney, and soon he was roasting hot dogs and marshmallows over the flames and sharing them with a very contented Tiger. They sat staring into the flames for a while, the boy's hand stroking the dog's thick fur.
The voice began to sing so quietly that neither of them heard it at first. Then Tiger lifted his head, ears lifting forward.
"Mi tydo ti walker...mi tydo ti walker..."
Carl rubbed his ear. "You hear that, boy?"
Tiger's mouth opened, and out came words: "Lynchee kinchee dingo dingo."
Carl's jaw dropped. Tiger didn't bark often, much less speak, and the sing-song words gave him chills that no other spirit-filled story did.
"Mi tydo ti walker..." It was the strange voice again, but closer now.
"Tiger, boy, please don't -- "
"Lynchee kinchee dingo dingo," the dog said again, slowly standing on all fours, his whole body quivering as he pointed toward the fireplace.
"Stop! Tiger!" Carl dove on the dog, clamping his hands around the retriever's muzzle. Tiger didn't struggle; he just sat, trembling slightly, until the voice sang again.
"MI TYDO TI WALKER!" It was shouting now, close and overhead.
Carl began to cry as the words came unbidden from Tiger's mouth. "LYNCHEE KINCHEE DINGO DINGO!"
The fire hissed and popped as dust rained down on it. Carl jumped away from the fire, letting go of Tiger as he did. A bloody head suddenly exploded out of the flames, landing right next to Tiger.
The dog's whole body went stiff, and his eyes rolled back in his head as his carcass clattered to the floor.
Slowly, bits of flesh peeling onto the splinters of the hardwood, the head turned and stared into Carl's eyes.
Carl let out a blood-curdling shriek and ran.
Swinging with the movement of the night breeze, the door slowly eased shut behind him as the flames shuddered and died away.
