Hound of the Coffeevilles (a ridiculously short story)

Wheels grumble over the dark Mississippi road as four young
students head out to marvel at the grandeur of the night sky.
They decide that the upcoming road is fairly secluded and
should give them a good look at the stars. After the car slows
to a halt, they get out for a good look. As the driver turns
off the lights, they realize the magnitude of the night.
Accustomed to cities, the countless pinpricks of light astound
them. Conversation about constellations, astronomy, and nature
unfolds as the beauty of the night mingles with thoughts and
wonder. There is a sort of palpable tranquility; the crispness
of the early spring night, the evening dew, and the crunch of
leaves under their feet remind them that they do not live
exclusively in a world of metal and concrete. No- the earth
and the sky, life, exist around them. It is exhilarating,
although it is somehow reminiscent of a bad nineties horror
film with shotgun-toting southerners (read: Vice Presidents)
and drawn-out gore scenes (read "I […]invented the internet").
Roused by movement in the bushes, the group decides to leave.
Their parting is reluctant, the beauty still etched in their mind.
After driving part of the way back, consensus decides that
it's not quite time. Turning on another side road, the car
makes its way off again to the backwoods. This route, however,
is wilder than expected. As the pavement turns to gravel,
turns to dust, the car quivers. It feels as if the black woods
are encroaching on the road. A groan.

Did you hear that?

Groan.

It's just the car.

Groan.

No, it's getting louder.

Groan.

This road doesn't seem like it's going to end. Do you want me
to turn around? I think it's only my car, but--

Groan.

YES.

The driver turns a 90 degrees and the backseat screams.
Shooting his head over, he sees a spotted basset hound howling
at the car full of city-slicking intruders. A pack of (half)
domesticated hounds angrily converges on the car. In a slew of
expletives, the turn is completed and they drive in the
opposite direction. With ridiculous vivacity, the dogs pursue.
However, being a car, the dogs cannot persist for very long
and the chase is abandoned. Their hearts pound as they tear
out of the gravel road, fleeing from…dogs.

Demon dogs rain supreme in backwoods Mississippi.

---------
Driver: IMo the screaming fury
Shotgun: Simon, the chill Brazilian.
Backseat: Ramona and Saoirse, they screamed a lot, too.

written by IMo