So long ago the details were lost to time, people began creating guardians of the dead. They were made from dogs, dogs who were buried in graveyards before anyone was laid to rest, their spirits arising as black dogs, bound protectors of the human dead.
Steve had always wondered what would happen after he died. He hadn't expected the answer to be 'wake up in the cemetery he'd been buried in', but here he was, some kind of ghost, and he could see the trees through his hands. It wasn't so bad, and he wasn't alone—a sleek black dog, golden eyes glowing bright, was happily waiting to greet him.
Decades later, on what was supposed to be a quiet, peaceful, definitely-not-life-changing walk through the woods, Bucky stumbled across an abandoned cemetery and into the impossible.
(It's a ghost story and a love story and a story about dogs.)
Bookmarked by EchoOfMe
01 Sep 2018
08 Apr 2018
"You ate my bees," Bucky says. Because his own tongue fucking hates him.
31 Dec 2016
A story for the Bartons and the family they accumulate.
Fandoms: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, War of the Worlds - H.G. Wells, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
05 Nov 2012
Murray, an orderly, was already at the hospital by the time I arrived and was examining the paper. I bade him a good morning. Murray, never one for the finer points in social etiquette, merely held up the front page of the Aldershot Military Gazette.
“Men from Mars”, he intoned ominously.