Five Hounds

One from the Newhaven universe... and easily  sorted with pictures (eventually) as I made a point of using things I've got... but feel the text needs to be longer to build up the tension more. It'll be better with pictures.
 

Shift over, Doctor John closed the iron  hospital gates behind him and opened the door of his red roadster, arm brushing the top of the black canvas roof. In the distance he heard the sound of a hound baying. It seemed to be coming from Shelbury Hill, a tree-covered mound off the road named after Wallace Shelbury, former owner of Shelbury Hall. That was a hundred years past, Shelbury Hall now being Shelbury Memorial Hospital, Doctor John's place of employment.

As he drove past the hill five large wolf-like shapes suddenly dashed out of the woods, crossing the road in front of him; a pack of what appeared to be large  hounds. One stopped, turning towards him and glaring with shining phosphorescent  eyes; he slammed the brakes on but it was too late. A loud shriek of pain and the animal disappeared under the roadster's wheels. Straight away the pack turned towards him and rushed in a howling frenzy towards the car. One jumped up and slashed at the roadster, claws raking and tearing at the canvas of his roof.

Panicked, Doctor John gunned his engine and fled the scene,  surviving hounds left in the dim moonlight as they gathered around their fallen companion.

Doctor John reached the junction and turned left along the river road towards town. As he drove along his lights picked up a lone figure walking along the road. He slowed so he could warn the pedestrian about the vicious  pack ahead.

Winding his window down he was about to speak when the remaining hounds burst out of the woods. The man turned to run; two of the beasts followed as the other two jumped up at the roadster, tearing at the roof. The man fell and, as John watched, the pack started tearing him apart.

There was nothing John could do but try to escape. As he drove off and crossed the bridge he could just see the hounds in the dim moonlight, apparently happy with their fallen victim.

He reached home and parked, looking at the ravished roof of his vehicle. Exhausted, he let himself in and collapsed on the couch. Without a phone he decided to leave things until morning...


And woke to find his car intact. No sign of rips and scratches...

.... a dream or nightmare? It had been so... real.

Next morning he drove to work past the scene.A police car and the coroners wagon were there, packing away an unidentified something.

Shuddering, he knew everything was real, Strangely confirmed by an item in the evening paper.

But the paper didn't concentrate on the victim. It seemed more interested in another case, exactly a hundred years before. The previous owner of the Hall, Wallace Shelbury, had been on that road. His coachman has run over a large hound and the coach attacked by the rest of the pack. As they ripped into the fabric of the coach, one managing to clamber in,  Shelbury dashed out to escape from it as the coachman kept going. The pack had then ignored the fleeing coach and concentrated their attention on Shelbury... who fell at the exact spot where the pedestrian had been found.