(Inspired by a dog I saw this morning.)
Every morning on her way to work, Rose would pass the old man with the dog.
Actually, it might be more appropriate to say the dog with the old man, based on who really seemed to be doing the walking and who was being walked.
The old man was nondescript and could have been blind, given the way he didn't seem to notice anything going on around him. He simply held onto the leash and moved forward, dull eyes looking straight ahead but seeming not seeing a thing. His canine companion was no seeing-eye dog, however.
The dog was one of those miniature, toy ones that Rose despised. It was some kind of tiny terrier, black curls dusted with gray. It made her think of a really ugly teddy bear that someone had stuck a frame, wires, and a motor into, the way it pranced ahead of its owner. And its eyes...
Its eyes were like polished marbles made from hematite, dark, gray, slightly iridescent--but not in an attractive way at all. If Rose didn't know better, she would swear that she could sense a cruel intelligence contained within. Nonsense, of course; it was just a dog, and a little, stupid dog at that. She was probably just sensing its ego.
This particular morning, as the girl and dog passed right by each other the latter raised its head to look straight at her. It was like looking into starless, moonless night, endlessly dark, flat and deep at the same time. She shuddered, and then suddenly she flashed on a vision of the dog and the man at home.
The old man was slumped lifelessly over a table, face down on the surface. The little dog sat upright by the man's head. In the split second that the vision lasted, Rose saw the dog lift its chin and open its mouth--something black and of an indescribable texture began to flow from its open mouth and its cold gray eyes. It oozed onto the table and formed a puddle by the man's head. Rose thought she saw something tentacle-like flick upwards from the puddle before the whole mess began to seep into the man's face, through his mouth and nose that were pressed against the top of the table. The second it had all vanished he sat up with a jolt. His eyes were like the dog's had been--gleaming hematite spheres with something...terrible...emanating from within.
"Arf!" said the dog.
Rose shooked her head and blinked, opening her eyes in time to see the dog and the old man pass her by and continue down the sidewalk, the pup trotting along as if it owned the world. All memory of her vision had disappeared from her mind. "I don't trust those tiny dogs," Rose thought to herself as she headed off toward work.