Sunlight painted fiery streaks across the sky as it sank toward the mountains. Bells and chimes rang throughout the Tiger Shrine, creating a melodic tone.
Carrie leaned on the barrier, viewing the terrain from the shrine’s exposed wall. Although she was wearing layers, the frigid air stung the stab wound on her back. She massaged the injury until light steps echoed in the courtyard.
Jago perched on a bench beside her, holding two baskets. “You must be hungry.” He gestured to one of them. “Please. Eat.”
Stepping away from the railing, Carrie took the container and thanked him. She sat at the opposite end of the bench. After removing the lid, her brows tightened. In Chamberlain, her diet revolved around ‘God’s food.’ She recalled how her mother deemed McDonald’s food godless.
Religious fury and longing raged within the girl. Her shaking hand lingered above the basket.
“Is something wrong?” Jago asked.
“It’s-it’s nothing.”
Carrie hid her face as her stomach gurgled, heat spreading across her cheeks. Her mother warned her about eating the ‘Devil’s food.’ Again, her stomach growled in frustration.
She removed the cloth, revealing shriveled, wet bread with chopsticks. Carrie struggled with the utensils until Jago helped her. After figuring out the chopsticks, she picked up a piece of bread and bit into it. Between chews, Carrie let the seasoning tingle her tongue until she swallowed.
“Wha… what is this?”
“A momo.” Jago split his chopsticks to unbind them. “The village I visited is famous for it.”
“Oh.” Another momo slipped from Carrie’s grasp. “These sticks feel weird.”
“They are at first, but they’ll grant you more control once you adjust to them.” Jago loosened his mask’s straps and removed it, drawing Carrie’s attention. Though his face appeared clean-shaven, his stubble lines emerged in low light. A light tan encircled his eyes, and his skin was sun-kissed. “Since you’re staying with me, we should get to know each other. You’ve avoided me for a few days now.”
The girl played with her food. “I don’t want to get tricked... or hurt.”
“You have nothing to fear from me. I promise.”
Carrie couldn’t understand the monk. Instead of a ravenous, lust-crazed beast, he displayed a reserved and stoic nature. However, his saddened eyes hinted at something darker. She sensed a kindred spirit in him, although his story was unknown. Soon, she focused on Jago’s tattoo. The thick lines mimicked tiger stripes, some forming a fierce, tiger-like face. Near the edges was strange writing that was challenging to interpret.
“Is everything alright?” Jago asked.
Carrie broke free from her hypnotic trance. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist staring at your tattoo.”
The monk studied the swirling black ink covering his left arm and chest. “It’s alright. The monks who once lived here brought me up and trained me. I was a favorite among the Order until--.” A distant memory swept across his mind’s eye as his brows knitted.
“Jago?” Carrie called.
The monk jolted out of his thoughts. “My apologies. My mind wandered someplace else. The High Abbot had engraved this on me as I showed such promise. The stripes denoted a warrior’s identity. See that writing at the end there? That is a Tibetan prayer.”
The girl surveyed the inscriptions. “Forgive me, but… what religion do you follow?”
“I’m a Buddhist. Why? Is that a problem?”
YOU ARE READING
Killer Instinct: Carrie Unleashed
Hayran Kurgu"Carrie had an ability, but she was a person, not a monster. She had hopes and fears, and we pushed her. You can only push a person so far before they break." A dark veil fell over Chamberlain, Maine, after tragedy struck the quiet town at the hands...
