Presumably, that mangy greyhound had broken through the only window Dor couldn’t bring himself to board up, Lulu’s window upstairs. How a dog jumped an entire story didn’t matter because right now, that mangy greyhound bounded across the kitchen, making a b-line for Eta.

Dor gripped the heavy glass bottle of whiskey, not taking a second to process the ‘hows’ and the ‘whys’ of this insanity; those thoughts were irrelevant. From twenty paces away, the dog leaped into the air. He appeared to be supported by invisible high-wires, gliding forward like a bad martial arts movie. Eta noticed. She stuck her thin arm out of the blanket to shield herself from the dog’s attack.

For a moment, Dor wondered why she even bothered. Instinct? As tough as her skin was, a canine’s chompers wouldn’t have a chance in Hell at puncturing her defenses. That thought ended the moment the dog opened its maw. Inside, rows of teeth swirled down a seemingly endless throat. That dog’s maw, it was the same as Eta's tail. This was no ordinary mutt.

Ignoring the humans, the dog attacked Eta, pouncing down onto her from its gravity-defying leap. Swirling teeth latched onto her arm and she lost her shit, completely panicked. Her arm flailed, and the dog swung with it, but it never let go. That otherworldly mutt clamped down like a leech, sucking and snarling away.

Eta panicked, tables overturned, the dog’s body smashed through computers and chairs, and the scene transformed into bloody chaos. The dog swung towards Dad and he fell over backward as the mutt grazed past him. Right then, Uncle Ron stepped into the fight, but it was Dor who acted first. That’s My monster, you fuck!

In her frenzy, Eta swung the mutt towards Dor, but he didn’t retreat. He reared back and smashed the bottle of whiskey down. It connected right on top of the dog's head. Glass shattered everywhere, and the mutt yelped, releasing its hold. But right as it let go, its momentum flung its scraggly body into Dor’s chest. Umph! The two of them crashed backwards in a heap, overturning his computer desk and smashing a monitor down on top of them.

The mutt staggered to its feet, dazed. It took one look at Dor, opened its maw, and struck. Before the swirling teeth could dig into Dor’s soft flesh, a purple Croc connected with its head. Uncle Ron intervened right at the last second and kicked that beast across the floor. Before the dog could stagger up a second time, Uncle Ron brought his Croc down again, stomping its throat flat under the big man’s weight. The dog kicked and scratched, but Uncle Ron stomped it again and again, ending its life with a whimper.

“What in the fuck?” Uncle Ron yelled.

Dad wobbled to his feet, eyes wide in terror. His frail body shook, unable to process what happened.

Dor panted amidst the mess he’d been flung into. He’d gotten the wind knocked out of his lungs, but thanks to Uncle Ron’s intervention, that was only real damage. His sight turned to Eta. His monster slipped out of her covers. Neon blood dripped from her arm; the swirling teeth had taken a chunk right out of it. How? No…no, that doesn’t matter. That’s My fucking monster.

Right now, Eta was just a scared and clueless girl. Her arm dripped blood while her gaunt face contorted in fear. She could cut through cast iron with her claws when attacked by Pert Plus, but she truly was a docile creature. Her claws could have ripped the guts clean out of that dog with a flick of her little finger. Instead, she panicked.

“Leave your…leave your mitts on,” Dor panted as he wobbled to his feet.

Likely, his chest would be bruised a grisly shade of yellow and purple in the morning, but that was a problem for later.

“Mind…your claws,” he said while limping over to inspect her arm.

If she panicked again, the dogs would be the least of their worries. With her around, friendly fire was the real threat. Dor shuddered, thinking just how lucky he was that the mutt connected with him instead of her claws.

“Fucking nod!” He yelled; the exertion ached his bruised chest.

She nodded and hung her claws limp at her side. He picked up her injured arm. The cut wasn’t as deep as he’d expected. Likely the dog’s teeth were just as effective as a hacksaw grating tungsten. It scratched the surface enough to make her bleed, but not much else. Her wound was another problem that could wait.

“How the fuck did that thing get in?” Uncle Ron yelled. “Better yet, what the fuck was that.”

Dad stood next to him, his frail body still trembling in fear. Unfortunately, Dor only had one answer.

“Mister Jenken’s wolves,” he said. “They’re after her because she’s a wheelmen.”

Whatever that is. He didn’t know how true that statement was, but based on the inklings he understood, it was the only conclusion his hasty reasoning could gather.

Outside, the pack of dogs continued to howl and scrape at the walls. They were surrounded. Worse yet, the gravity-defying dogs could get in anytime all thanks to Dor’s sentiment. Uncle Ron clenched his fists, ready to explode. “Give ‘em the fucking monster,” he said. “Give the fucking monster then. That’s what they’re after, so that’s what’ll make ‘em go away.”

That logic was sound, and it hit Dor like a ton of bricks. The cold truth of the matter was that Mister Jenkin’s wolves were after Eta. She was a wheelmen, whatever that meant. ‘—don’t do wheelmen here in your world. He don’t like that.’

No shit, kid.

Fact was, he didn’t even need the monster anymore. She’d given him all the information he needed to form a plan. Right now, he only needed to hunt down an unanswered prompt. If he clicked yes, he’d vanish just like the rest of his friends, to Valrere or whatever world they went to. Of that, he was completely certain. He knew it was the truth as far-fetched as it sounded. This was an insane world. Or worlds. Only through insane logic could he comprehend it.

These last two months he’d been taking care of a monster from another world in hopes she’d lead him to find his friends. And for once, he’d assumed right.

Ditch the monster and hunt down a computer prompt. Sound logic and certainly a task he couldn’t accomplish with wolves nipping at his heels.

Dor looked to his old man. His frail Dad shook in terror. That mutt nearly killed them. Who was to say it’d stop its rampage after killing Eta? This was a decision between his family and a monster he’d just met. He picked the Peter Rabbit comforter off the floor and draped it over his monster’s head. “Use your tail,” he instructed her. “Wrap your arm tight and stay put.”

Uncle Ron nodded. “Let’s give ‘em the monster and wait it out.”

Maybe it was Uncle Ron’s army training, or maybe it was just how the big guy really was, but Dor respected just how easily that guy kept it together. Had Dor himself not had two months to process this world, he’d be overwhelmed, shaking in terror next to his old man right now.

“Stay put,” he told the monster again.

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His chest ached and his leg was sore, but Dor gimped out the room as quick as he could. Compared to meeting God in his ceiling, this situation didn’t have near the impact. He wasn't frozen in terror. He was ready to take action, put his forming plan into motion. Albeit, that was only a plan for escaping the restaurant. As to what they'd do next, he was completely clueless.

He gimped up the stairs before Dad and Uncle Ron could stop him. Through Lulu’s open window, the howling echoed down the hall. He prayed another dog wouldn't fly in. He made his way down the hall, pushing through the mutt's wails, and found his room. His Glock and Sargent Berry laid on the nightstand. Sargent Berry he’d surely need later, but the Glock was for now. Knowing Uncle Ron, he'd need it to escape.

He tucked the flask into his pocket and checked the slide of his pistol. The glean of a brass casing confirmed it was loaded. He opened the nightstand’s drawer and stuffed cheap Tulu ammo into his jacket. There were a lot of dogs, so he’d need lots of reinforcements. Wallet, keys, Glock, and Sargent Berry. He was ready.

Before he went back down, he stopped in front of Lulu’s room. Disco stars twirled across the walls while her pink curtain fluttered against a breeze. Early morning darkness shrouded the room and the snarls of hungry dogs leaked through the busted window.

“See you soon,” he said and closed her door.

Hopefully, a closed door would buy them a bit of time against the next attacker. Though, he strongly doubted it. They chewed through Eta’s tough skin. Probably not even the walls themselves could withstand those mutts' swirling teeth. But if they could always get in, why wait until now to attack?

Dor glanced up at the ceiling in the hall. He couldn’t feel its gaze, but perhaps the god that lived there only made his presence known to prove a point. ‘I can get to you anytime I want.’

He flipped the ceiling a rude gesture and limped back downstairs, gun in hand and ammo rattling around his pockets. Dad and Uncle Ron stood in the kitchen, far away from the monster tending to her wound. Upon seeing him, Uncle Ron reached to snatch the gun out of Dor’s hand, but Dor stepped back. This was his damn plan, and Uncle Ron wasn’t going to take over.

“We need to leave,” Dor told them. “Those dogs can get in whenever they want. Ain’t no walls gonna stop them.”

“Boy, you best start making sense,” Uncle Ron warned.

Dor pointed to the ceiling. “God lives up there.”

“What up in heaven? You ain’t serious.”

“No, God lives in my ceiling. He owns this city and he can get in whenever he wants. He’s just fuckin’ with us.”

Uncle Ron swallowed hard and grit his teeth. Dor revised his previous assessment. That big man was not taking this well. “Son, you’ve lived alone way too long,” Uncle Ron said. “Ain’t no god living in your ceiling, just some mutts outside hungry for a monster.”

How can you accept they want to eat Eta just like that, but not that God lives in my ceiling? Dor shook his head. Likely, if he told Uncle Ron the dogs outside just wanted to borrow the computer for a bit, Uncle Ron would throw every computer out the window to them. He didn’t want answers. He just wanted out of this mess. Dor couldn’t fault him for that. He wasn’t much different.

“You take a look at that beast you killed?” Dor asked. “Go check out its teeth. Go on, I’ll wait. You check out its teeth then tell me that’s a real dog.”

The big man didn’t move. Apparently, he’d noticed the swirling teeth.

“If a monster like that exists, fucking God can live in my ceiling,” Dor said. “You want an out, I’ll give ya one. Find a computer monitor that's still running the game. If you can find one with a prompt asking you to take Prometheus’ name for future adventures, don’t hesitate to tell it yes. That’s what Lulu did, and that’s why she’s gone.”

Right at the mention of his daughter’s name, Uncle Ron grabbed Dor by the cuff and pinned him back against the wall. Scary as Uncle Ron could be, he didn’t hold a candle to Prometheus or his dogs.

“I told ya how to find her,” Dor said as he stared the big man down. “You don’t like it, you don’t believe me, tough shit. Go back to hanging posters or twiddlin’ your thumb up your ass or whatever else you do to waste time. I ain’t gonna waste no more time. I got a plan. You don’t like it, then go fuck yourself.”

“Ronnie! Leave it.” Dad snapped out of his daze.

"This boy’s off his rocker, Manny!” Uncle Ron said.

“That ain’t nothin’ to do with you,” Dad said.

Uncle Ron’s face flushed, but it wasn’t rage. “The fuck it doesn't, Manny! This here’s my boy, too. And I ain’t gonna let no boy of mine lose his fuckin’ mind.”

“Dammit, Uncle Ron,” Dor said. “I haven’t lost my mind. You see how mad the world is, I’m not any madder than the rest of it. I got a monster living upstairs, monsters outside, and God fucking with me in my sleep. Come on…help me. What you got better to do?”

Uncle Ron released Dor and backed away. He pointed to the gun. “Gimme that, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Dor shook his head. “I got an axe in the utility closet, and Hell, your Croc did a pretty good job earlier.”

Then he tossed his car keys over to Dad. His old man knew how to handle a Trans-Am better than Dor ever could, probably from all that tearing around in his wilder years. “We gotta get out of here. If those mutts can gnaw through Eta’s skin, they can gnaw through a wood door. I don’t know what they are, but them things are the real monsters.”

Dad took a deep breath and relaxed his face. Then he smiled. Dad was always along for the ride as long as Dor asked him to.

“Where’s the closet?” Uncle Ron asked.

Dor pointed, and the big guy nodded. Even Uncle Ron had his moments. Dor limped over to his Trans-Am and popped the trunk. For the next step, they’d need supplies, no telling when they’d be able to come back. Dad helped him raid the walk-in cooler, dumping all the doggie treats and dried goods into the back. Most important of all, Dor didn’t forget about the Kentucky Gentleman. He needed all the help he could get.

Without even explaining the details, it seemed they all understood what to do next. Escape. Dad crawled into the driver’s seat while Uncle Ron manned the draw bar locking the garage door shut. Dogs scratched the plywood, going wild outside, but that was all for show. Dor figured out God's game. Those dogs could get in anytime they wanted. God in the ceiling was just fucking with them.

Throughout all their commotion, Dor’s monster stood in the computer room watching them all scramble around. Even with their quick preparations all set and ready, she didn’t move. She just hung out with her Peter Rabbit comforter draped over her head while her tail wrapped a piece of the cloth around her arm. Neon blood soaked through some, but otherwise she appeared fine, lost in her own world like usual. At least she can follow instructions.

“Get in, let’s get goin’” Uncle Ron hollered as he manned the garage door.

Dad cranked the engine. Wamp. Wamp. Wamp. No backfire this time, Dad knew what he was doing. The big V-8 rumbled to life and the dogs outside went nuts, barking and snarling at the noise. Thick fumes filled the kitchen. Now they really couldn’t stay here. If the dogs didn’t kill them, the carbon monoxide would.

“Get in, Dor!” Uncle Ron yelled.

Dor looked to his monster, his pathetic monster hiding under her blanket. Hell’s a dark place, but she ain’t there no more. “What you doing?” He yelled at her. “Get in!”

She held up a finger and opened her mouth, but Uncle Ron cut her off. “Not a chance!” Uncle Ron said. “We’re leaving. That thing is staying.”

Dor knew this would be a problem the moment he thought of escaping. Too bad, Uncle Ron. She's coming along. He walked away from the car and over to his pathetic monster. “Mind those claws, ya hear?” He told her. “Fucking n—”

But he didn’t need to get all the words out. She held up her oven mitts and nodded along.

“Good. Let’s go.”

Right as they turned to walk back into the kitchen, Uncle Ron blocked their way. “You said it yourself, boy,” he said. “They want her, not us.”

“I don’t know that for sure,” Dor countered.

“Don’t care. Whatever that thing is, she ain’t nothing but trouble. You’re gettin’ in the car and that thing’s staying here.”

“If she’s staying, I’m staying. This ain’t Hell.”

“Don’t be stupid!” Uncle Ron yelled. “This is life. Shit happens, but I ain’t gonna take no chances with my family. No more shit’s gonna happen to them.”

Dor was grasping at straws. He knew this would be a problem. If only I’d kept a few secrets… But he shook that thought out of his head immediately. This was a dangerous insane world and keeping secrets he knew nothing about would only get people hurt. He wasn’t that dumb.

“Uncle Ron, please,” Dor pleaded. “We need her. If the plan fails, she knows how to find Lulu. She’s from that world. She’s useful.”

In truth, he knew just how weak that argument was. His monster was a bigger burden than she was useful. With dogs nipping at her heels, she’d only drag them down and maybe even get his family hurt. He knew that. His sentiment was being unreasonable, not his Uncle Ron.

I am people. Still, he wouldn’t leave a scared girl to get devoured by hungry dogs. He was people and if he did that, he knew he wouldn’t be any longer.

Uncle Ron didn’t waver. Dor didn’t figure he would. That guy was nothing if not stubborn, thinking his opinions were only ones that mattered.

And I’m no different. Dor lifted his Glock. Uncle Ron took a step back.

“You ain’t gonna shoot me,” Uncle Ron said. “You may be crazy, but you ain’t gonna shoot me.”

Dor glanced back and pat Eta on the head. She leaned into that affection and he confirmed his decision.

“No,” Dor said. “I can’t hurt you.”

Instant death pressed against his temple. “But I can hurt me. I’m crazy, remember?”