Authors: Angela Alsaleem
“I don’t know why she doesn’t want to wear clothes. It makes me sick looking at her naked body. She’s covered in so many wounds. And the blood just won’t stop. How is she still bleeding? How is she still walking?
“God, I’m just so tired. But I have to keep going, no matter what. I have to stick with this. It’s the most amazing discovery since… since… well, since I don’t know what, but this is amazing. I’ve read so many stories but they were just that, stories. I don’t think anyone has ever come across a real… creature? Is that what I want to call her? I guess she is a creature of sorts. But she’s more human than that.”
She tripped on another root but didn’t fall this time. Each new step onward presented a new challenge. “I’m just so tired,” she said again and clicked off her machine. Camilla stopped and jerked her head. Libitina shuddered. “Ugh,” she whispered, not wanting to close the distance between them. Camilla had been like this all day.
Cerberus hunched low, ears up, staring at something in the brush with all the focus a one-track-mind animal can give. A rabbit leapt out of a shrub and bounded away. The dog yipped and wriggled out of the backpack, landed on his side with a grunt, then took chase, his leash trailing. The dumb animal disappeared before Libitina had a chance to realize what had happened.
“No,” she commanded. “Cerberus.” Each syllable was sharp, cracking like a whip. “Cerberus, come! No. Bad dog. Come. Sit. Stay. Cerberus, stop!” Her tired legs stumbled as she ran after her pet. After a moment, she stopped, panting, listening. Tears welled. “Cerberus,” she whined. “Come on, baby,” she said more softly, coaxing now. “Come on, Cerberus. Come to mommy.” Voice choked with tears, she continued to call him.
A bark sounded in the distance. She’d recognize her dog’s yelp anywhere. She ran toward the sound.
“Mommy’s coming, baby,” she called again and again.
When she found him entangled in a bush she laughed, the knots in her belly loosening. The little black dog wiggled when he saw her, bouncing around her feet as she untangled his leash. The air smelled like rain. The sky overhead grew darker with clouds and the setting sun.
“We’ve been walking for three days,” she said to her dog. “What made you think you could catch a stupid rabbit, dummy?”
Cerberus wagged his tail and licked his lips, ears back, head down. She unbound the dog and coddled him, kissing his snout, refusing to let him down. She buried her nose in his short fur and breathed in his scent. He smelled like dust and green.
“Don’t scare me like that again,” she whispered. “You frightened me.”
Cerberus licked her chin, lapped away the tears. Once over her shock, Libitina looked around and realized what she’d overlooked in her panic.
She was lost. The trees closed around her, crowding out the light and any line of sight in which she might spot Camilla.
“Fuck,” she whispered. She turned in a circle, cradling her dog under her arm. “Fuck,” she shouted.
That bush over there looked familiar. Maybe she’d passed it? Maybe. She went that direction, not sure where else to go. If she’d had some idea of Camilla’s destination, she might have a chance of finding her again. Whether she found her companion or escaped the forest and went back home, she needed to get moving, and forward was better than staying put. As she shuffled onward, she tried to recognize the landmarks she’d flown past.
Just before dark settled, she collapsed against a boulder. Nuts and beef jerky made a light snack, but it beat the hell out of nothing. Of course, the little rascal got his share, gobbling it up before tasting it. Three days. Drowsy aches consumed her. Three days. Giving up seemed like the best idea since sleep. Exhaustion consumed her every limb. Even the tiny muscles in her eyelids threatened to stop working as they kept slamming shut.
Sleep. Her body screamed for rest. All her thoughts bent toward it. The trees seemed like sufficient cover if the sky decided to give up the fight and finally rain. Trailing after the corpse had brought new meaning to her life, but in this state of fatigue, she didn’t remember what the meaning had been. She had no proof people could appreciate, no glory in her finding without proof. People would think her insane, but she couldn’t continue any longer.
With the last of her strength, she secured Cerberus to a tree and rested under the overhang of a boulder for shelter.
Almost instantly asleep, she dreamed she’d found her zombie and followed it, getting lost. She dreamed of green eyes watching her from the bushes, orbs too human to ignore, of which she should be leery. Then the dreams ceased. Sleep dragged her into the abyss, a willing victim. The root digging into her side and her pet’s growls vanished into the void.
Screams sliced through her slumber, plunging her into wakefulness. Her heart pounded her ribs with sickening force as she gathered her surroundings, remembering where she was and why. She sprang to her feet, hands clapped over her ears. Cerberus whimpered and hid behind her, tail tucked between his legs.
Libitina wailed, crouched, in physical pain, the noise making every part of her quiver. Camilla’s howls of rage and fear tore through her soul. She knew it was her lost companion but had no explanation as to why. The screaming continued, inhuman, agonized, the sound of many women shattering the silence with echoes of the most excruciating pain. She reeled, collapsed to her knees, and vomited.
She untied her dog.
Darkness hid her landmarks, so she followed the sound into the depths of the forest. She would find Camilla. She had to. A fluttering sound caught her attention over the screams. Bats swarmed and screeched overhead. She shuddered. Bats. Like rats with wings. Why did there have to be bats? The flying rodents had failed to appear over the last three days. The screams must’ve brought them out.
Holding Cerberus like a football, she ducked through the brush like a linebacker, dodging trees and shrubs, jumping at the last minute over anything that could trip her, only stumbling to her knees a couple times. The screams chilled her to the core but she ran toward them nonetheless.
Chapter Nine
Camilla lurched onward. Hunger and the craving for more breath pulled her forward, but something pushed her as well, something following, something darker than any nightmare. Her first victim deserved his fate, yet she couldn’t squash the nagging voice in her mind insisting on the wrongness of it. He’d suffered. But it had felt electric, nearly orgasmic, when his essence flowed into her.
Her body stiffened in strange places. Her right leg dragged, cutting a trail through the dirt. Her head lolled, the muscles too weak to lift her heavy skull. She forced her neck straight, making it crack, a thick, wet sound. Red goo clotted, coagulating on her thighs. Her feet bled, torn open from walking barefoot.
Every now and again she’d glimpse the wolves, their golden eyes flashing. They guided her, herded her, appearing and snarling at random, causing her to change course. A clear path revealed itself as her guides kept her on this once-lonely journey.
It wasn’t lonely since Libitina had insisted on coming along. The redhead with the tiny dog. Ugly little thing. She hated Chihuahuas. Couldn’t understand why anyone else liked them. All they did was yip and shake and erupt with hyperactivity. What the hell were they good for anyway?
Libitina served as a distraction from her current plight; her grumbling and timid presence was a comfort. She desired to visit with her new companion as they traveled but anytime the thought of talking to her crossed her mind, the wolves appeared, blocking her efforts. She wondered if Libitina could see the wolves or if they were in her mind. If she could, it didn’t stop her from following. She had a feeling that this timid woman wouldn’t stick around if she could see them. The most irritating aspect of Libitina’s presence was simply her need to rest. Camilla didn’t feel tired anymore. She could probably get along without sleep. Besides, the pull she felt exacerbated the feeling that time was trickling through her fingers like sand. Once the last grains were brushed from her palms, all would be lost. She didn’t think it wise to slow down when she knew she was so close to… whatever it was she was searching for.
Libitina yelled from behind her, “Cerberus, come, bad dog.”
Camilla turned just in time to see a flash of red disappear through the woods.
She shook her head. Stupid dog. Well, she couldn’t stop. No way. Had to keep moving, had to find… it.
As night finalized its approach and the light faded, she came upon a bloated stream and looked for a way to cross.
A blond woman cut her throat, raped her ass, spit on her face, throttled her, smacked her, called her a beast, shoved things inside her vagina, cut her open with a pair of scissors, slit her wrists, pulled her hair, scalped her, bit her, masturbated over her, shoved glass under her nails. The same grinning face, from so many different places and perspectives at once, came at her again and again. She was a child, an old woman, a brunette who knew karate but couldn’t defend herself. She was afraid over and over again. With every ounce of passion in her body she hated this blond-haired, green-eyed devil, hated her face, hated her laugh, hated her taunting voice as she preached about the cleansing qualities of pain, the pleasures of pain. As she died over and over again in so many different ways, she vowed to kill this woman, to rip her to pieces, to get her revenge. She died and she died and she died. Pain beyond pain. Fading, choking, cramping, pain.
Camilla wailed as she sank to her knees, shaking, dry heaving. Not again. This was so much worse than what she’d seen from her first vision. She didn’t know how long she crouched on all fours, her head hanging over the stream, gagging, crying. Too long.
The green-eyed devil tortured her and killed her again and again. So many women. So much pain.
Her shrieks filled the night, tore her esophagus. She couldn’t stand to see this woman again, didn’t want to feel the suffering she caused, didn’t want to die again. An acid-green cord now extended from her belly button, much like the red one from before. How could one person do so much evil? Camilla couldn’t stop screaming. The sounds didn’t seem to be her own. Her throat was merely the device from which other voices escaped. All the women she’d become howled their rage, pain, and fear. The cord dripped glowing drops of green that scorched holes into the ground, creating rills of smoke.
That woman was out there. The green-eyed devil.
The ceaseless battery of experiences pervaded her being, forcing her to become the hateful, the wretched, the students. The images had to stop. She didn’t want to see them anymore. She couldn’t think. Another wave of torment washed over her, drowning out every emotion except fear and hatred. Wailing louder than before, without thinking about what she was doing, Camilla hooked her fingers into the flesh around her eyes and began digging.
* * *
Libitina didn’t know what to expect upon finding Camilla. The sounds of her anguish echoed through the crisp night air. Other voices intermingled with Camilla’s, reverberating inarticulate words of pain. Cerberus squirmed in her arms and bit at her fingers but she wouldn’t drop him. He whimpered.
Through the cacophony she heard water trickling as a backdrop. Water cascaded down the hill, cutting through the trees in its centuries-old path. And that’s when she saw Camilla.
“I don’t want to see them anymore!” Camilla stood, her fingers hooked into the flesh around her eyes, tearing like a feral animal. The clouds parted overhead. The light of the nearly full moon poked through, illuminating the spectacle before her. In the dim glow, Camilla’s mouth resembled a black hole surrounded by a white edge.
“No,” Libitina husked, shaking her head and stepping away. Her arms went weak. She dropped Cerberus who crouched behind her, wetting himself, shivering at her heels.
“I… don’t… want… to… see,” Each was word accentuated with a gasp. Her gore-caked fingers dug at the delicate organs. She managed to get the right eye out, the flaps of skin waggling in the wind from the gash in her face, starting above her eyebrow and ending at either side of her mouth.
“No. Oh God, no.” Libitina took a couple more steps backward.
The oculus nerve extended from the bloody orb back to Camilla’s torn eye socket. Camilla pulled on it, extending the nerve, but not getting rid of the eye. She yanked it to her mouth and gnawed the dripping cord. The thick chewing sound mixed with her garbled screams caused Libitina to cry out. She gathered Cerberus and squeezed him, transfixed by what she saw.
Once Camilla bit through the first one, she went to work tearing at the other. Again she gnawed the nerve when it was pulled loose. On her knees, she held one orb in each hand like an offering to some unseen god, crimson streaking her breasts and belly. She screamed and swore in a voice much deeper than her own. She dug her nails into the two offerings, the popping sounds audible over all other noises as she squeezed. A jelly-like substance oozed from between her fingers.
Libitina heard the fluttering sound of bats and looked up to see an enormous cloud of them black out the moon.
* * *
It was dark outside, thick blackness. Only the animals witnessed the ugliness hidden deep within the trees. Intermingled with the sounds of night, human cries rose from obscured crevices.
Aludra stood behind her nun who was bound naked, belly-side to a tree, arms and feet splayed. They’d been together for more than a day. The blue glow which had emanated from her had long since vanished.
“Why, God?” she cried. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”
Aludra snipped off another chunk of her hair. The wretch pushed her swollen face into rough bark and screamed.
“I always served you! I was always your faithful servant. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you letting her do this to me?” She rocked her head back and sobbed, mouth open to the sky, spittle stringing from her bottom lip, connecting to the tree. She snuffled through a broken nose, the blood caked over the bottom of her face dried and cracking as she rubbed against the trunk.