Luthor stayed away from the apartment building by his school. On top of his parents warning him that it was abandoned and dangerous, he had heard rumors from his classmates that it was haunted by weeping banshees, a portal to hell, home to monsters, people who died too soon roamed there, and a flurry of other folk tales. He wasn’t sure which of them was true, but there were so many different ones that it was clear to him he should cross the street on his way home after his classes.

	But on this particular day, Luthor watched as the stray dog he’d been playing with on his way home for the past two months crossed the street. It wandered past the crowds of people, past the apartment’s front gates, and into the lot. The dog turned around, sat down, and gave a happy bark as if to beckon him over. Luthor looked around at the crowds, desperately hoping that someone would take notice and coax the dog back out. But everyone continued on with their dinner time plans, ignorant of Luthor’s dilemma.

	“Wendy!” Luthor called out for her to come over, just like he’d practiced with her. She had seemed receptive to the name before. But, now, every time he waved his hand, she simply barked and continued her happy panting. He thought of all of the horrible things that might happen to her if she were to go further into the lot by herself. She might be mutilated by monsters or set on fire entering the gates of hell or be haunted by ghosts. The possibilities tormented him, so he quickly crossed the street, Wendy watching him the entire time. When he got to the lot entrance, he gritted his teeth and braced himself before stepping off of the concrete and onto the dirt. He felt as if thousands of unseen eyes were watching him as he opened his mouth.

	“Come on, let’s go and practice shaking ha-”

	Wendy barked and excitedly hopped further into the lot.

	“No, Wendy, please come back! There might be monsters or ghosts in there!” Luthor called out to her. But her enthusiasm grew as she continued prancing to the building’s entrance. The thought of her happy prancing being violently ended by being cut in half by a giant ghost butcher knife made Luthor lunge forward to try and grab her. But when he did, Wendy sprinted across the lot, and into the building’s front entrance. 

	“No, Wendy! This isn’t a game! Come back!” He cried out. But she disappeared into the darkness. Luthor listened for anything that might indicate danger, but there was only silence. His immediate thoughts were that there might be something inside the building that might have muffled Wendy so that he wouldn’t come to her aide. Of course, this propelled Luthor forward and he found himself standing at the door. His knees shook as he tried to get a better look inside.

	But as he examined the darkness, a dog’s snout bulged out of nowhere.

	“Let’s practice shaking hands!” A menacing voice said, in sync with the snout moving up and down. Luthor stared at the snout for a second, trying to process what he had just heard. But as quickly as the snout had appeared, Wendy jumped out of the darkness and clamped onto his hand with her teeth. Luthor let out a cry of terror and tried to pull his hand away. But with every jerk, Wendy clamped down harder. They wrestled, Luthor crying out for her to let go, until eventually, she snapped her head to the side and he fell backward onto his butt. He tried pushing himself off of the ground, but a sharp pain shot through his arm and he screamed. He glanced at the hand Wendy had bit and saw that it was barely attached by bloody sinew and muscle. The sight of it terrified him and he pushed himself up with his other hand and ran away.

	As he ran across the lot, back out to the street, Luthor heard a voice.

	“Nobody trains the Underdogs!” It said, followed by a series of laughs.