Drip Drip Drip
One night a young girl, Lily Foster, is left alone for the night, in her country house, while her parents drove out to town for a party. This was fine with Lily, especially since she had her faithful dog, Scout, protecting her throught the night. She made herself something to eat, and sat down at the kitchen table. Turning on the radio to her favorite station, she was surprised to hear a news bulleten declaring that an avenged murderer was on the loose. It advised that people secure all windows and doors as a safety precaution. With her dog by her side, the young girl locked the front and back doors. She went from window to window, and locked each of them one at a time. She reassured herself that she would be fine with her trusty dog, and that her parents would be home shortly, anyway. So, Lily had a pleasant, peaceful evening, and finally decided around eleven o'clock that it was time for bed. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom, and slid under the big, warm blanket on her bed. Before closing her eyes, reached her hand down under the bed, and allowed her dog to lick it- she did this every night, because it comforted her. A short while later she awoke to the sound of a scratching noise at her bedroom window. She eyed the window, and reminded herself that the whole house was locked and she was safe. She stuck her hand under her bed and felt her dog's slobbery tongue cross over the palm of her hand. She sighed and went back to sleep. An hour or so later she sat up in bed...She had heard footsteps in the hallway, and crept out of bed to see if it was possibly just her parents returning from their party. Seeing nothing, she returned to bed. As she was about to stick her hand under the bed, she heard a drip, drip, drip, followed by some footsteps. She walked downstairs into the kitchen and secured the the taps. That surely wasn't the source of the drip. She crept upstairs and climbed into bed. "This is silly," she told herself "I'm probably just imagining things." She stuck her hand under the bed, and felt the dog lick her hand. An hour later she awoke again. A little mad at this point, she jumped out of bed. The dripping wasn't coming from the kitchen so it must be from the bathroom. She crept along the side of the hallway, and walked into the bathroom. She groped along the side of the wall with her left hand, looking for the light switch. She flicked the light on and gasped. There, hanging from the shower rod was Scout-skinned-a pool of blood had formed on the bathroom tile with a continuous 'drip, drip, drip' as the blood from the dog hit the ground. Something on the wall caught her eye; written on the wall was a message in blood..."Humans can lick too."
One cold winter night, sixteen year old Kelly Sanders was home alone, as her parents had gone out to a dinner party at a friend's house. It had been snowing all afternoon, but had just recently stopped. After studying for a while, she decides to relax a little- after all, she finally had the house to herself. She makes some popcorn, gets a nice warm, fuzzy blanket, and snuggles under it to watch one of her favorite movies. In their lounge room, the television is positioned a few feet in front of the glass sliding door that leads to the patio and backyard. By midnight, Kelly's parents are still not home, and she begins to feel uneasy, but refuses to call them, for risk of sounding like she couldn't take care of herself. Suddenly, her eye catches a glint of light from behind the TV, and right there, just outside the glass door, was a crazy-eyed man, grinning maliciously at her, and holding a long, narrow blade in his left hand. Terrified, the girl panics, pulls the blanket up over her head and grabs the cordless phone by her side. Kelly calls the police, and as luck would have it, there was a patrol car less than a block from her house. In a matter of seconds, two officers are on the scene and Kelly tells them about the armed man staring through the glass. The first officer opens the sliding door and looks around the area. After a few moments, she turns and explains to Kelly that there couldn't have been anyone standing out there, as there would have been footprints in the snow. The second officer tells her that she is probably just tired and her imagination was playing tricks on her. He beckoned at the TV where the horror movie she had been watching was still playing. "Stuff like that didn't help matters, either,'' he said smiling. Kelly smiled too, more at her own immaturity than the officer's remark, still a little shaken. As the police are about to leave, the male officer stops and looks behind the sofa that Kelly had been sitting on. His jaw drops and eyes widen in shock. Kelly and the other officer notice his reaction and follow his gaze; they both gasp. There were wet footprints and a discarded knife on the carpet behind the couch. Kelly hadn't seen the man outside he door; she'd seen his reflection when he was standing behind her.