His Dog Started Acting Strange and Vanished Into the Woods—After Hours Of Searching, He Returned With THIS...

Plunged into absolute darkness, Dale panicked. He dropped the dead flashlight and reached into the cold mud, his fingers brushing against Max’s foam-flecked muzzle. His hand collided with the object Max refused to let go of.

It was a stone. Fist-sized, jagged, and cold—yet surprisingly, impossibly heavy, feeling as if it were made of solid lead. "Let go, boy," Dale grunted, using all his strength to pry the dog's jaws open. Max whimpered, a pitiful, broken sound, but finally released his grip. Dale hauled the dog up by his harness and dragged him, stumbling, all the way back to the house. 

He locked Max in the kitchen, exhausted and shaking, and threw the black rock onto his heavy wooden workbench in the attached garage. He leaned over the bench, panting, and wiped the wet mud off the stone with a rag. Beneath the dirt, the rock showed weird, rusty orange veins and smooth, glass-like patches. Then, the chisels hanging on the wall rack above the bench began to sway.