When the Wolf Comes Home

by Nat Cassidy

For the rest of her life—her miserably long life—that scream continues. For the few hours she sleeps, she whimpers and groans miserably, and when she wakes up, her screams resume through vocal cords completely shredded and still, through a face twisted in uncomprehending misery. And no one—least of all she—knows why.

holy shit