Excerpt of Diaries Of An Urban Panther by Amanda Arista

After two more hours of gabbing, dancing, and fending men off Jessa, I managed to herd the girls into a taxi and drop all of them off without any missing shoes, lost purses, or the maiming of clingy guys who didn't know "you leave with who you came with."

Applauding myself for remembering cash for the taxi, I paid the driver and trekked to the red front door of my little two story townhouse. I was nearly to the door when a noise from the alley way echoed between the two buildings.

"Not again. Stupid dogs."

Now normally, I'd have let my trash bags fend for themselves. But I had a few drinks in me and had managed to block a Dallas Cowboys linebacker from taking Jessa home, so I was feeling braver than usual. I was going to teach those stupid mutts a lesson: my trash is not a free buffet.

The broken safety light in the alley left me tiptoeing through darkness. Luckily, I knew my way around: four steps and a gutter ;three and a dip to the left in the sidewalk.

Now, I write for a low-budget horror movie company whose creations are only found on the highest numbered cable channels. Even in cult circles, Cloak and Dagger Productions is well known for taking the imaginative leap a little too far. But nothing, even in my line of work, could have prepared me for what I saw, actually saw, as I stepped into the alley of garage doors.

A dark, solid shadow loomed over the pale fur of Happy, my neighbor's golden lab. The dog lay limp under the crouching form. By the snap of tendons and slow smacky chomping that echoed around in my ears, it was leisurely eating man's best friend.

I cupped my hand over my mouth from the stomach churning sight. Part of me had known it was Happy eating my garbage. But this? I would never wish this on anything.

As I tried to stealthily back away from the gruesome sight, I bumped my garbage cans, sending them clattering loudly behind me, spilling my white bags all over the driveway. Crap.

I could only make out yellow eyes in the inky blackness as they snapped towards me. Double Crap.

Frozen in the eerie stare, I didn't move again until the shadow growled. The low earthy sound echoed off the long corridor of metal garage doors.

Alone, in the darkness with a monster, I panicked. I had keys in one hand and a small purse with a credit card, cherry lip gloss, and loose powder in the other. None of that was going to do any good unless the black figure felt a little shiny.

The shadow began to move, its dark legs slowly stepping over Happy's golden fur. Its long body stalked towards me. I used the only weapon I could think of: my shoe. It was big enough to knock out anything.

My patent heel bounced off the black mass and clattered on the cracked driveway. The creature growled again unaffected by the barrage, keeping me in its sights.

One shoe off and three drinks to the wind, I darted back down the shadowy sidewalk between the buildings as fast as my tired size tens would carry me. Even with the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I couldn't push my legs fast enough.

Fire ripped through my body as the thing leapt and sharp, steely hooks pierced into the muscle of my shoulder and tore down my back.

Falling forward with its weight, I hit the sidewalk hard. My hands caught my fall, saving my face from the concrete, but losing a layer of skin in the process. My glasses flew off my face, landing just far enough away to be lost in the darkness.

The shadow ripped deeper into my shoulder. It shredded my shirt, snapped my bra straps, and tore through the tender flesh.

I must have cried out because, suddenly, help arrived in the form of black boots. The thing on top of me growled or screamed; I wasn't sure. The pain seeped into my ears making them useless, as spots filled my blurry vision.

There was a hollow click and I saw another sequence from the movies: the world fading to black. I could only hope that along with those big black boots came a white hat.