Carolina

Dust motes floated as if they were fireflies in the shafts of sunlight streaking across the barn. The young woman’s one good eye, unblinking, stared in wonderment at the exclusive showing. An unwelcome cough created an intense discomfort in her gut that made the teenager heave. The girl sought to turn her body, but her face appeared to be glued to the wooden floorboards. The young lady heaved; head rising from the ground with a noise similar to that of Velcro pulling apart. It took all she had to hold the contents in her stomach right where they belonged. She moaned against the discomfort, but the cry unknown to her ears sounded very much like a lifeless zombie wailing. Slowly the girl sat up and saw that she wore no clothing. In the limited light she could see that her legs, hands, and arms were covered in cuts and scrapes - they showed to be congealed in a blend of blood and dirt.

She sought to speak, but her mouth was dry. Seeking to produce moisture by licking proved futile, as her tongue was a chalky sponge and her lips a gaping desert plain.

The young girl managed her way to a seated position on the floor and detected a fresh wound. She searched the smooth skin on her belly like the blind learning brail - her trembling fingers struck the source. A serious gash about six inches in length ran across her abdomen. With curiosity, the teenager prodded the injury - howling as her finger inserted itself past the first knuckle.

Blazing silver light flared and pierced her skull like a blade. Wavering back and forth and her head lolling akin to a rag doll, the girl went down with a thump. Her left hand reached out to brace the fall. But as she did, the webbing between her middle two fingers caught on a nail sticking up from the floorboards and shredded her palm up to the wrist. The young girl exhaled with a hiss as consciousness escaped her body. It was hard to tell how much time had passed before she came to, maybe hours. There was still a soft glow coming through the spaces between the boards of the walls. However, the sunlight looked different, as it had a reddish tinge, consistent with that of a bruised peach.

“Who?”

What was that? The young lady rolled to her back, cringing against the discomfort as she moved.

“Who?”

The teenager peered into the rafters above, struggling to uncover the origin of the one questioning her. Her right eye was swollen shut (from what, she did not know) and her left required time to adapt to the poor light. A mouth as dusty as an ancient text book was now laden with blood. She swallowed. It was exhilarating and offered her a newfound strength. Ignoring the fear of what pain she may endure, the girl stood.

“Who?” the questioner asked again.

“I don’t know.” her words were just above a whisper.

“Who, who, who?”

The young woman leaned back, stumbled, but caught her footing. This time her voice carried a strength with it. “I don’t know who I am.”

“WHO?” The question this time had heat to the tone, implying that the girl may be lying.

“Who are you?” the teen asked.

As if in answer to the girl’s question, a large shadowy shape darted from out of the darkness. The shape flitted in and out of rays of sunlight and landed on a beam on the other side of the building. Two glowing eyes peered down at the girl.

“What do you want?” the young woman asked. Silence answered. A pulsing, like a heartbeat, stirred in the girl’s left hand. She moved the hand up and peered at it in wonderment. As deep as the laceration was, she was confused that it didn’t have her crying out in anguish. Instead, she had the impulse to lick the wound - which she did - and it tasted so delicious. Her eyes rolled back as she licked, and her mouth began salivating.

“Who!”

This time she knew it not to be a question, but more of a statement, like the voice was declaring, “See.”

“Yes, I guess I do,'“ the young woman acknowledged. Her eyes began to adapt to the increasing darkness in the room. Up in the rafters, clutching the wood beam with thick talons, sat a barn owl. The creature inclined its head and stretched out its wings. It glared at her unblinkingly with brilliant eyes.

“Who, who?” the owl called.

“I - I can’t remember,” the girl said.

“WHO!” the owl shouted. It leaned forward. “WHO!”

The girl took a couple of steps backward and began to look around the room. The floor was littered with earth and moldy strands of hay. She could see the contour of where her body had been laying on the floor, patches of dried blood within the shape. An understanding started to take hold within her mind now. She looked at the hand she had been licking and saw that it was virtually healed. But how can that be?

“Who?” the owl asked again.

Promptly, the girl jerked her head around and spotted a dark form stretched out on the floor. She sniffed the air and could smell… food? Her stomach appeared to growl (or did that sound come from her throat) so she planted a hand on her belly. This time, she was not surprised. She knew that the wound would be gone. Where there was previously a serious gash, there was nothing more than a fading scar.

“Who?”

In reply to the question, the young lady scampered on hands and feet to where the shape lay. She smelled the air anew. Undoubtedly, this was food. On the floor next to the heap was an axe, the blade of which was covered in hair, blood, and meat.

“Who?”

“I - I, remember. This axe, it is what cut me open.”

“WHO?” the owl demanded.

The girl could see now the half eaten body of a man. His face was all but removed, save for the beard on the lower portion of his jaw. Where the man’s legs once were, was nothing but bone - even the sinew had been cleared away. She began to lap at the carved up face. Her mouth started watering uncontrollably, and her hunger for meat became unmanageable as her teeth ripped into flesh. The girl swallowed whole chunks of muscle and fat without bothering to chew.

“Who?” the owl asked one last time.

“I am Carolina, She Wolf,” the girl growled.

Some distance away, a lone hiker stopped to catch his breath as he stared up at the red moon on the horizon. A chill ran down the man’s spine as he heard a single howl break the silence.