When I was nine years old, my father took a job with an oil company in Saudi Arabia. He arrived alone at first and lived in something employees referred to as “Bachelor Camp,” which is reserved for unaccompanied male workers. A year later, the rest of my family joined him in Dhahran’s “Main Camp,” which resembled a displaced chunk of suburbia from Texas or Arizona.
As a strict Muslim country, Saudi Arabia frowned upon openly celebrating Christian observances such as Christmas and Easter. There was, however, one holiday we could all publicly enjoy: Halloween. Imagine scores of Western children from North America and Europe dressed up in their cheap costumes to trick-or-treat around a Middle Eastern oil town. That’s how I spent my Halloweens in the 1980s.
Maybe my childhood memories of those surreal nights explains why I’ve always loved Halloween. My partner Augie and I are huge horror movie fans, and I try to watch at least one every day in October until All Hallow’s Eve, when we screen some of our favorites together: Trick ‘r Treat, Tales of Halloween, John Carpenter’s The Fog, Event Horizon, and many more.
This season, I want to do something special for my readers. So I’m releasing one of my shorter horror stories here. It’s called “Semper Fidelis,” and it’s a tale about a very good boy who loves his family…and absolutely hates home intruders.
I hope you enjoy it, and happy Halloween!
Semper Fidelis
by
Cameron Bear
Glass breaks, Mommy shrieks, and I wake up from my long nap. I can hear her downstairs, beneath the bedroom where I settled down next to Daddy. Despite the noise, he’s still asleep. Instinct prods me to investigate. Big stretch, then I jump to the floor and land on all four paws with no more noise than a breeze.
As I creep, I listen. Mommy yells at someone. Though I cannot see him, I can smell him: sickly-sweet burning stuff lingering on his skin mixed with stress sweat. Something about the anger and fear in his odor feels familiar. I know this bad person, but how? Fog still fills my head and the answer hides within it.
Another snort brings me Mommy’s scent. Anxiety blends with vanilla, wood, rose, and a hint of lingering summer. She’s wearing her favorite stink-spray — “Texas Sage” she calls it. It hurts my nose whenever I sniff the bottle.
Mommy keeps shouting. “Get the fuck out of my house, you goddamn tweaker!” Something big hits a wall. Thump!
“What the hell!? Why are you home?”
“It’s my goddamn house, asshole!” Mommy stops for just a moment. “Wait…I was supposed to play Texas Hold ‘Em at Millie’s with the girls tonight. How did you know I wasn’t supposed…” Her voice rises again. “You motherfucker! You’ve been casing my house?!”
The man grumbles. I can smell his sour breath as I sneak down the stairs. “You live alone in this big house by Buzzard’s Bay, the nearest neighbor ain’t all that close, and you drive a nice car. That says ‘money’ to me. So yeah, should’ve been easy in, easy out without you ever seeing me. Just my luck you changed things up tonight.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, you little shit. Tonight, it was Cops on TV and microwave lasagna. Millie’s out of town.”
I hear the bad man groan. “Classy, but what am I supposed to do now? You’ve seen me, and I’m on probation. I ain’t going to prison over this. So I think you’re gonna star on Unsolved Mysteries.” He laughs in nervous bursts.
Then I hear a clicking sound. I recognize it. Daddy taught me that sound when I was still a puppy. Bad people make it with their bang-bang things before they kill someone. No more time to sneak. I run.
When Mommy speaks, she does not sound scared anymore. “Oh, I think you’re more likely to get the part, buddy. You made a big mistake coming here. My husband was a Marine before he became a cop, and you’re bound to wake him.”
“Nice try, lady…”
“Margot.”
“What?”
“Margot. My name is Margot. Not that you’ll need to remember it for long.”
“Yeah, whatever. You can call me None-Of-Your-Fucking-Business, and I ain’t seen anyone but you come in and out for weeks. You can’t fool me.”
When I pass the dining table and peek into the TV room, Mommy is sitting in her recliner with her paws up on the footrest. Her long, gray fur spills over her shoulders and she’s wearing the plastic eye-things that I’m not allowed to chew. I catch a whiff of the whisky before I see the broken glass on the floor. It reminds me of Daddy’s stink-spray.
The bad man is skinny. His head-fur, short and stubbly, doesn’t hide the scabs beneath it. He’s scratching his scalp and fidgeting. I remember my training. When I smell this kind of burnt, sweet chemical-reek on a restless perp, that means they’re really dangerous. I growl to announce I am dangerous, too.
“What the hell was that?!” The man spins around with the bang-bang thing in his hand and looks everywhere. He does not see me.
Mommy smiles. “Why, that would be Titus. He probably heard us and woke up before my husband. Al’s always been a heavy sleeper.”
“Titus?”
“Our dog. Belgian Malinois. Black as midnight from tip to tail with blue eyes. I told you my husband was a cop. K-9 officer. Titus was his partner.”
The bad perp-man no longer points his bang-bang at Mommy. He’s flailing it around, looking for me. Good. That means Mommy is safe for now.
“Lady, I ain’t seen a dog here, either.”
“No.” She chuckles. “I don’t suppose you would have. But you hear him now, don’t you?”
Before I can leap and bite the perp’s arm, he rushes over to Mommy and grabs her by the robe she’s wearing. He shakes her and I growl louder. My trainers taught me never to attack when a vic might get hurt.
“Okay, Margot, talk! What the fuck is going on here?! Yeah, I hear a dog! I even smell a dog! But I don’t see an effin’ dog anywhere! If you’re playing games with some stupid recording, I’ll…”
“…make me a star on Unsolved Mysteries? Yeah, you mentioned that. But if you let me go, I’ll tell you. Hell, I’ll even pour you a drink. Seems the right thing to do for a man who’s about to die.”
“I’ll pass. Now what the fuck is going on?!”
She sneers. “Fine. I didn’t want to waste good whisky on you, anyhow.” Then Mommy leans forward. The man retreats a step. “Titus, sit…for now.”
I sit down like a good boy and wait.
“So, my husband, Al, was a Marine. Desert Storm and all that. I met him in ninety-two at the Newport Creamery where I waitressed. One of my regulars. Still remember his usual order: Big Beef on toast, no sweet relish, extra pickles and ketchup. Oh, and he liked malt vinegar on his fries.”
The perp groans. “I’m not here for the menu.”
“Fine, fine. Anyhow, one day Al hands me the check and his phone number’s on it. We date. Things get serious. He decides not to re-enlist and settles down with me. After that, he enters the police academy and we get married. No kids…well, except for Titus. He was always our good boy.”
I recognize the words and wag.
“Get to the point, already! You keep saying ‘was,’ Margot. Are they here or not?!” He shoves the bang-bang thing into Mommy’s face. She stares at him, straight in the eyes.
“I’m getting to that part. You see, things were great for years until someone like you — some drugged-up, burned-out, useless asshole — got the drop on my boys. They weren’t even on duty. Al stopped off after his shift with Titus at the Cumberland Farms up the road for milk. My fault. I forgot we needed it until Stop & Shop closed and I’d just baked a sheet of chocolate-chip cookies. Al and I used to share those on Fridays for our date night. Can’t have cookies without milk, right?”
The bad man pales. His snarl goes limp. He takes the bang-bang thing away from her face. “No. Guess not.”
“Anyhow, Al walks in with Titus. He hated to leave our boy in the cruiser alone and the clerks never minded. Then some little shithead runs in to rob the place, sees the uniform, and…well, you can guess the rest. Killed my Al. Killed our Titus. Cleanup on aisle four and I’m a widow. Al’s brothers in blue never did catch the bastard. Cried my eyes out for a week.”
The perp shakes his head. He looks more worried than dangerous. “Just a week?”
“That’s all it took for my boys to come home.”
Silence.
“I noticed them in little things at first. One morning I came into the kitchen and found Titus’s bowl empty, but I hadn’t emptied it after the…incident. So I thought maybe I misremembered something. Threw the kibble out and forgot. Then on the following Friday, I walked into the TV room and found a cup of milk and a chocolate chip cookie on the side table. Stale cookie. Hadn’t made fresh ones since Al died. But I got the message.”
The perp-man’s anger returns. “Fuck. You’re crazy as a shit-house rat, aren’t you, Margot?” He claws at his head harder. “Great, great, great. Now I’m gonna kill that cop’s widow, and the fucking news will blast this sob story on every channel, and I’ll be lucky if some vigilante doesn’t get me before the po-po. Or I let you go, and then you tell your husband’s pals at the department, and…”
Mommy’s eyes narrow. “That cop’s widow? Now you’re gonna kill that cop’s widow?”
The bad man snaps at her. “Okay, fine! Yeah, it was me! I didn’t know any of this, okay?! I’d…if I’d known, I’d never…”
I cringe. I’ve never seen Mommy so wild-eyed and calm at the same time. “You’re never leaving this house alive.”
Again he grabs her roughly, but does not point the bang-bang at her. The bad perp-man is distracted, so I might be able to take him down now. “The only person who ain’t leavin’ this house ever again is you, you nutty bitch! Stop fucking rambling and threatening me! I’m the one with the goddamn gun! Just need to cover…maybe burn down…”
“Look behind you.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m not falling for that stupid trick!”
“Seriously. Look behind you, in the other room. I won’t pull a fast one on you. I don’t need to. Besides, you’ve got the gun, right?”
He turns and glances in my direction, but does not see me.
“There’s nothing out there.”
“You sure? Look again.”
“Dining table. Chairs. Phone on the wall — the old kind with a dial. Do those even fucking work anymore?”
“Keep looking.”
“Lady, there’s nothing! Stairs leading up, door I came in, couple of blue lights from some electronic gizmo in the other…”
He stops talking when I blink.
“Those…aren’t…”
“Oh, Titus, honey?”
“No way…”
“Devil dog.”
Mommy gives the “attack” command and I launch at the perp-man. I sink my teeth deep into his bang-bang arm and he drops the thing onto the floor. Then I shake-shake-shake-shake and cinch my jaws. The scent of copper floods my nostrils.
Calmly, Mommy stands up and collects his bang-bang thing. She puts it on the side table beside the recliner and smiles. “Goodbye, Mister None-Of-Your-Fucking-Business! Can’t tell you how happy I am you stopped by to visit. I think I’m going to sleep a whole lot better tonight. Al and Titus will, too.”
The bad man screams as I drag him into the dining room by his shredded arm. Bits of flannel from his shirt stick in my fangs. He tries to hit and kick me, but he cannot touch me like I can him. My perp breaks free and tries to crawl away. “Someone’s gonna miss me! I’m on probation! They’ll come looking!”
Mommy sticks her head out of the TV room to answer him. “Really? Does your officer know you’re here on a B&E? Don’t think so. Even if someone does figure it out, remember: I’m a police widow who sits at home and watches Cops over microwave meals. It won’t be hard to beat that rap, especially after I sink you to the bottom of Buzzards Bay. Crabs and fish will do the rest. Perks of seaside living.”
I launch forward and seize his ankle. Crunch. His bones snap and the taste of salt and meat floods my tongue. I wag and drag. The bad man digs his flimsy claws into the hardwood beneath us. They break away. His bleeding fingertips leave streaks on the nice, clean flooring. Mommy will be upset about that, and I don’t like upsetting Mommy. With all my strength, I shake-twist-shake-pull-shake his floppy ankle. He screams louder.
It doesn’t take long to haul the perp to the other stairs — the ones that go down instead of up. Those lead to the cellar, where Mommy and Daddy told me to make my messes during hurricanes and snowstorms.
And I’m about to make a very big mess…
LEGAL NOTICE: Any company/entity which uses this story for training or other purposes related to the development of AI, ML, or LLMs agrees to enter a binding arrangement to pay a one-time licensing fee of $10,000,000 USD to Cameron Bear for his content. This contract is non-negotiable. Removing this story from training data sets after using it does not exempt the company/entity from payment.