Susie

By R.A. Haskell

June 1st, 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
A condominium in the Art Museum area

The sounds of a baby crying at 4am were heard not only by her mother’s ears but, owing to the hormone, oxytocin, by her breasts as well. She swung her legs out of bed, looking down to see two wet circles growing larger on the chest of her nightgown. 

“You want me to do it?” her half-asleep husband mumbled, yawning at the sentence’s end. Rocket, the cat, raised his head for a mere second, then went back to sleep on the foot of the bed.

“I’ve got it,” she responded, standing, “I’m leaking anyway.” She pointed, with extended fingers on each hand to the now even bigger wet spots emanating outward from her nipples. The husband lifted his head and with one eye, stared where his wife directed.

“Ah,” he hmphed, allowing his head to fall, unfettered, back to the pillow. Mentally he followed his wife’s footsteps down the hall, into his daughter’s room. He imagined her speaking to their daughter, the sound of her voice alone quieting the wail, though not quite extinguishing it. He pictured her lifting little Susie out of the crib, sitting with her in the rocker as she undid the ties of her gown, exposing both of her breasts. One more second and Susie would latch on, to which breast he didn’t know, as Mariah would offer the left or right randomly, and a serene silence would follow, allowing him to fall back into slumber. But that isn’t what happened. There was silence, for maybe a second or two, but the crying came back. Even more agonizingly. It wasn’t the sound of a hungry baby, it was the sound of a starving one – high pitched with a quavering vibrato.  

“Graham?” his wife whisper-spoke into the hallway, carrying with it a sense of worry.

Graham was already out of bed and on his way out the door, the wailing of his daughter otherworldly enough to have unnerved him into full awakeness. 

“What’s up babe?” he asked, entering the pale pink light that softly illuminated from an egg-shaped lamp on the small table next to the rocking chair.

“She won’t eat,” Mariah said. “She took it at first, but then came off and immediately started crying again.” 

“What’s wrong my little Susie-girl?” Graham said, bending down and gently stroking his daughter’s head. 

The initial touch of his hand to her fuzzy head of jet-black hair had made her crying cease, but only for an instant. 

“Do you want to try some formula?” Graham said, digging around in a cloth bin that he’d pulled from a dark wooden storage unit with six such containers, each in their own open cubby.

“I guess so,” Mariah replied, no longer offering her breast, but simply rubbing Susie’s back and coddling her against her shoulder. Susie’s wailing was making her lactation even more intense and droplets of milk formed on each of her nipples and then fell to her lap which was damp as a used washcloth. Graham found a single-serving bottle of formula, twisted the cap to break its seal, and handed it to Mariah who was readying Susie into the proper position.

The baby stopped crying and latched on to the bottle. After one sip, she opened her mouth, screaming even louder than before and exasperating the formula all over Mariah in a fine white mist.

“Graham, I’m worried. What are we….”

“Look,” Graham said, pointing. Susie had stopped crying and, by herself, latched to Mariah and now contentedly suckled.

“Is that formula spoiled or something?”

Graham examined the bottle. “No, it’s good for several more months.”

“Maybe she’s sick, do you think I should call the doctor?”

“I think we need to keep an eye on her. Do you want to cancel our plans for tomorrow?”

“I really don’t want to. Not only is it date-night, but Graham, it’s your birthday. I think my Mom can handle anything. She did raise four kids, you know.”

“Okay. Well, there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep. I think I’ll shower and head to the office early. I’ll call you later to see how Susie is doing.”

###

June 2nd, 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
John-George’s Restaurant

“Babe,” Graham said reaching his hand across the table to grip Mariah’s, “this place is off the rails. Isn’t this going to cost a fortune?”

Graham looked away from his wife’s glassy eyes and rotated his head all around the room, taking in the view like a tourist at Niagara Falls. The walls were floor-to-ceiling panes of glass and, from fifty-nine stories up, offered expansive views of the city. In the room’s center was a fully stocked bar which, Graham was quite sure, had some single malt scotches, a mere dram of which, was several hundred dollars.

“You don’t turn forty every day, Graham. Besides,” Mariah leaned in, “I’m hoping to sweep you off your feet tonight. Literally.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.” Mariah reached her other hand up so that she fully encapsulated Graham’s. She also ran her high-heel up the outer side of his left leg’s calf. “I want you Graham Hunt.”

“Stop it. You’re making me…”

“Hard?” Mariah whispered and smiled wryly.

“You’ve had too much wine.”

“Yes I have. Oh! I almost forgot.” Mariah dropped her leg, unclasped Graham’s hand, and rifled through her purse. 

A moment later and she produced a small wrapped box with a delicate bow of gold ribbon. The couple’s table was directly against the window so the light from both the city and the moon glimmered off the metallic bow, making it appear to be a spectrum of golden shades.

“Mariah, this outing is gift enough. I told you not to get me anything.”

“Graham, you only turn forty once. Open it.”

Graham unwrapped the box and extracted a bright red velvet bag. From the bag he allowed its contents to drop into his open hand. A silver pocket knife fell into his palm. He looked at it closely and saw that the handle was engraved with detailed adornments in a variety of decorative shapes. Scrollwork. Wheat. A notched semi-circle.

He unfolded the blade, snapped it back into place and then unfolded a silver pick, and folded that back into the handle. 

“Is this……”

“Your Great-Great Grandfather’s. Sure is. From 1865.”

“But, but,” Graham stuttered, “it was horribly tarnished. And broken.”

“I got it refurbished and all cleaned up for you. It’s real silver, you know.”

“Thanks babe. I love it.”

###

June 10th, 2025
Philadelphia, PA
An Office Building on Arch Street

“Mr. Hunt?” a young woman in a short skirt, too short, Graham thought to himself, too tight come to think of it, said as she stood in the conference room doorway.

“Yes Alice?”

“You’re wife is on line two.”

“My wife called the office? Why didn’t she call my cell?”

“She said she did, but you didn’t pick up.”

Graham looked around. “Oh, I guess I left my phone in my office. Can you tell her I’m in a meeting and will call her back?”

“Apparently, it’s urgent.”

“Okay.” Graham raised himself from the table, walked to the credenza at the end of the conference room and picked up the phone’s black handset.

“Mariah,” he said, “what’s……”

“You need to come home,” Mariah snapped, “right now! This goddamn dog wont let me get to Susie.”

“Mariah, just calm down and…” Oh shit, he thought, I shouldn’t have said that. Graham closed his eyes and, wrinkled his face, clenched his fist and…..waited for it.

“Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down. This fucking dog growls and bares his teeth at me every time I approach Susie’s room. I’ve yelled at him. I threatened to hit him with a broom. But he’s not moving. I need you to get in your fucking car and get here right now!”

“This doesn’t sound like Axel. I wonder…” Oh double-shit, he thought, I shouldn’t have said that EITHER.

“What?! You don’t fucking believe me?! I am telling you Axel is being an asshole!”

“I’m on my way.”

Click.

Exactly thirty-two minutes later and Graham Hunt was bounding up a carpeted flight of stairs inside the entrance to the townhome on North 23rd Street. There, waiting inside the open doorway, his wife stood, statuesque with her arms folded and her eyes squinted.

“Is Susie okay,” Graham said, breathlessly, his chest heaving.

“Luckily, she’s down for her afternoon nap. But I swear to you, I could kill this fucking dog right now.”

Graham brushed past his wife, dropping his briefcase onto the wooden bench inside the foyer. He went through the condo’s kitchen and into the hallway. Halfway down, in front of Susie’s doorway lay their dog, Axel. Graham remembered, in that moment, the previous year when, simply out of curiosity and just for fun, they sent Axel’s saliva to Wisdom Panel. They had learned that their 35 pound fawn colored mixed breed had been 59% Chihuahua. What this meant, practically, was that either his mother or his father had been a pure-bred Chihuahua and the other, clearly a much larger dog, had been perhaps the muttiest mutt to ever walk the Earth. There was Poodle. Bichon Frise. Rottweiler. Chow Chow. Chinese Crested. 

If the Chihuahua had been the mother, they collectively agreed, poor girl. If it was the father……..adda boy.

Graham approached, talking to the animal. Rocket, the cat, sat at the opposite end of the hallway, seemingly observing the scene.

“Axel, what’s up buddy? You not feeling…”

When he was within about ten feet, Axel growled. Graham closed half the distance and Axel’s growling became louder and he bared his teeth. Graham pressed forward and Axel growled, bared his teeth, and barked. Graham was about to step into Susie’s room and Axel stood up, barked, growled, and moved his body directly in the center of the doorway, blocking the path, his tail tucked tightly under his hind legs.

“Axel!” Graham yelled, “move it!” Axel snapped at Graham’s leg. Susie awoke and started crying. Axel kept barking and snapping. At last, Axel’s mouth made contact with Graham’s leg and he bit down. The sound of his daughter crying coupled with the ruckus Axel was making, plus the pain and anger he felt at man’s supposed best friend sinking his teeth into his flesh made Graham, for a split second, decide in this fight or flight moment, that the former would win the day. Graham yanked his leg away from Axel, succeeding, and then used it to kick the dog. Axel whimpered, fell against the door jam, stopped barking and slunk away down the hallway.

“Jesus Christ!”  Graham yelled, “what in the hell was all that?”

Mariah rushed in and scooped up Susie.

###

June 11th, 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Condo on North 23rd Street
6:22am

Graham was in that state of sleep where you’re asleep, but you know it. He wasn’t lucid dreaming, just hovering in a place where his unconscious mind had somehow developed a consciousness. He wanted to decide on nothingness and drift backward into restful oblivion, but had a weird feeling that he was being watched. Graham opened his eyes and there, staring at him was Mariah, wide eyed.

“What time is it?” Graham asked with a groggy voice.

“After six.”

“Early.”

“I can’t sleep. I’m not sure I can, with Axel in the house.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think we might need to get rid of the dog.”

“Look, I’m going to work out of my home-office today. Let me keep an eye on….”

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That.” Mariah fell silent and they both cocked their heads so their left ear and right one, respectively, were pointed at the doorway.

“Yeah…it sounds like…”

“Licking.” They said simultaneously. 

The husband and wife climbed out of bed and walked down the hallway, following the sound. When they rounded the corner into the kitchen, Mariah screamed. 

“Oh God!” Mariah put her hand over her mouth.

Graham shouted as well.

“Jesus!”

On the floor of the kitchen was what was left of the cat, Rocket, and Axel the dog, was lapping up blood.

The cat’s body had been mangled, as if a car with snow chains on the tires had driven over its middle, eviscerating it. Bits of entrails spilled out of the cavity and dangled there like worms on the end of a hook. Rocket’s neck was at an impossible angle causing his head to be cranked to the side. His left eye was so swollen, the bottom of it pushed out of the socket. The right eye was missing entirely.

Graham, realizing they were both frozen, shook himself and then snapped at Mariah.

“Susie! Check her!”

Mariah, also realizing her own shock, was shaken from it at the mere mention of her daughter’s name. She bolted.

Graham followed, asking a question even before entering the room.

“Is she okay?”

“Yes, but look.”

Mariah held up her daughter’s pink onesie. It was ripped entirely down the side. Susie lay in her crib completely naked.

“Do you think that…”

“Yes,” Graham said, lowering his head, “Axel tried to get to her, but only was able to rip off her clothes. When he failed, he turned on poor Rocket. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have cried.”

“Maybe she did, but we didn’t hear her?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. But Graham, one thing I do know….”

“Oh yeah. We’re getting rid of the dog.” 

###

June 11th 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
100 North 2nd Street
PAWS Animal Welfare Society

“Not usually,” the young woman in a bright red t-shirt said, “when a biter is surrendered to us, we will usually try and find a willing foster home to give it a chance. If that goes well, we try and place the dog permanently. Only repeat offenders, really aggressive dogs, get, you know,” she said pushing a pair of glasses further up the bridge of her nose, “euthanized.”

“That’s good,” Graham said, “he was such a good dog. I don’t know what happened.”

Just then, a boisterous machine-gun laugh had both Graham and the volunteer turning their heads. On the floor, in the corner of the room, Susie sat while a rambunctious puppy licked her face and ran around her in frenetic circles, interrupted only to lick her face again. Susie laughed uncontrollably. The dog, some kind of lab mix, Graham figured, put his two front paws on Susie’s shoulders, knocking her over. Mariah moved to rescue her daughter but soon stopped as Susie laughed even louder. 

Mariah looked into Graham’s eyes and he knew immediately what she was thinking.

We’re getting a new dog.

###

July 11th, 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Condo on North 23rd Street
5:34am

Graham and Mariah Hunt shot up in bed when they heard it. It was a whine, long, labored, and filled with pain. Next came a short yip and then another extended whine. The couple exited the bed and walked barefoot in the dark toward the sound. The sun was just beginning to rise and a single yellow-orange streak of light pierced the darkness of their bedroom.

Graham led the way, as the whining ceased. 

“It’s coming from Susie’s room,” Graham whispered.

“Hurry, Graham. Hurry.”

Graham took two quick jogging steps and pushed the cracked door wide open. His eyes bulged from their sockets as the scene in front of him was irradiated by palish pink light from Susie’s strawberry shaped nightlight.

Susie was on the ground, on all fours. Graham knew it was Susie simply by looking into her eyes. She was there. But it wasn’t her. Her entire body was covered in black fur, her ears were pointed and elongated. Long sharp nails protruded from each finger, thumb, and toe. Graham couldn’t see her mouth because it was presently being used to gut their new puppy. When she did look up, she roared at them and her voice, normally awash with innocent cuteness, was now deep and guttural. Her mouth, as she opened it, was full of fangs and dog intestine. Blood dripped, and she roared again.

Mariah screamed with a shrillness that made Graham’s ears ring. Susie crawled, inhumanly fast, almost as if she was floating, toward them, roaring.

“Go back!” Graham yelled, “to the bedroom!”

Mariah and Graham ran down the hallway and into the room. Susie speed-crawled after them and they barley managed to get the door shut before she’d caught up with them. Graham locked the door and backed up, holding Mariah’s hand.

Susie roared and then an enormous whack emitted from the door’s bottom half. Whack! Whack!

Susie’s arm broke through the door. Whack! The hole was now big enough for Susie’s head, which she stuck through and roared. Graham could smell the acrid iron odor of blood on the breath she exhaled. Whack! The hole was big enough for Susie to crawl through and she did, headed directly toward them, mouth agape, fangs stained with blood. Mariah backed up as far as she could and was soon sitting against the wall as Susie stalked them. Mariah blinked, only half noticing that much more sunlight was streaming into their room. It was in her eyes and, under normal circumstances she would have squinted, but the palpable fear in her chest kept them wide open.

Susie moved forward and seemed about to pounce when she crawled directly into a beam of sunlight. It made her stop instantly. Her two arms and her face, those parts of her lighted by the bright white, morphed over the course of a few seconds. The hair disappeared. The long nails receded. The fangs shrank. Her ears returned to normal. She moved further into the light and several more seconds later, she was fully herself again. Naked, she crawled toward her mother, got on top of her and said, faintly, “mamma.” Mariah hugged her and Susie fell asleep on her shoulder.

###

July 11th, 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Condo on North 23rd Street
8:56am

“Yes,” Mariah said quietly, “she’s still asleep.”

“What the hell are we going to do,” Graham said, sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Mariah sighed.

“I think we should take her to the doctor.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea. He might lock us both up.”

“Look, she’s my daughter and that’s my vote. Maybe something can be done.”

Mariah sighed even more deeply.

“Graham,” she said, staring down at her feet, “I have something to tell you.”

Silence.

“Actually,” she said, drawing out the word for several seconds, “Susie isn’t yours.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Look,” Mariah said, taking a seat across from her husband, “we tried for three years to get pregnant. You remember we did everything. Surgery. Meds. IVF like what, nine times? Last August when you were away on business I was ovulating. All the conditions were perfect. My body temperature was spot-on. Anyway I went to Rembrandt’s and I just let it happen. I got drunk and let it happen.”

“What are you saying? I don’t believe this. Are you telling me you let some guy fuck you in a bar when I was away on a business trip?”

“It was in the bathroom. But yes. Look, I didn’t even know the guy’s name. It was utterly meaningless. I simply needed a, well, donor.”

“Jesus Christ Mariah! I can’t believe this.”

“Graham. It didn’t mean anything. I guess technically it’s cheating, but I was just so desperate. I really wanted to have a baby. I wanted you to be a father. But. But.”

“What? There’s more?”

“He was very rough. I couldn’t really see what was going on because I was, well, leaning over the…”

“Look! I don’t need details, okay!?”

“Anyway, at the end. He scratched my back pretty badly. It wasn’t normal.”

“I need to take a walk or something.”

###

Saturday, August 9th, 2025
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Condo on North 23rd Street

“Graham,” Mariah whispered, “you know what today is, right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “tonight is a full moon.”

“She’s down for her nap. Do it now. Make it quick.”

Graham sighed again and stood up. Mariah handed him his Great-Great Grandfather’s silver pocket knife. Graham shuffled through the kitchen, down the hallway, and into Susie’s room. His shoulders slouched and he took easily double the number of steps it would normally take to cover the distance. 

Graham approached Susie’s crib and unfolded the blade. He leaned over slightly and brought it to Susie’s throat. She breathed rapidly, but with a calming cadence. Graham could smell her breath with each exhale. It was a pleasant mix of sweet cream and fruitiness owing to the little pineapple puffs she loved to shove in her mouth by the handful.

“I can’t do it,” he said, standing in the kitchen. “I know I can’t be her father and I also know that she can’t be in this house tonight. I also know that she’s a monster, but I can’t become one.”

“Well,” Mariah said, standing, “I got us into this, so I guess I’ll have to get us out of it.” Graham held out the pocket knife but Mariah walked right past him without taking it. A minute later and Mariah had Susie in her car seat slung over her arm. Susie remained asleep.

“Where are you going?” Graham asked.

“Rembrandt’s.”

###

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

One bedroom apartment in Old City
3:54am

“What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know, but certainly not this,” the woman said loudly, pointing to the infant car seat that rested on the kitchen table.

“Shhh,” the man said, “I just got the kid to sleep a few minutes ago.”

“How do you even know this baby is yours?”

“Well, I don’t. Not yet anyway.”

“Do you even remember this lady?”

“Not really.”

“So, you got your freak on with some stranger in a bathroom at a bar and you don’t even remember it?”

“Uh. Well. Baby, this was a long time before I even met you.”

“I don’t even want to…..”

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes.”

“It sounded like a….”

The two looked at each other and said the next word simultaneously.

“Roar.”

THE END

About the author

Besides his aspirations for storytelling, R.A. Haskell is many things – a father, a husband, a runner, a lover of single malt scotch, someone who’s been trying for three years to swim a mile in under forty minutes (it’s really not that fast), and someone who wonders every day what if, after four years of performing in the nation’s oldest collegiate improv comedy troupe, he had followed his castmate, Amy Poehler, to Chicago and tried out for Second City? Instead, he built a Marketing career, first in the toy industry, and then in high-tech which afforded him the opportunity to travel the world. He was born in Maine but currently resides in the middle of it all in Wichita, Kansas.