There, sitting perfectly still on your doormat, is a large Siberian Husky. Its white and gray fur seems to glow in the dim light from your hallway. But something's wrong with its face. The dog is smiling Not panting with its tongue out like dogs do - actually smiling, lips pulled back in an impossibly wide grin that stretches from ear to ear, revealing far too many teeth. Its eyes are locked directly on yours, unblinking, black as the night behind it You freeze. The dog doesn't move, doesn't make a sound, just sits there with that horrible, knowing smile. Its head tilts slightly, still maintaining that piercing stare and that grin that seems to say it knows exactly why it's here. The silence stretches on. Neither of you moves. It just keeps smiling, waiting, as if it has all the time in the world