On a cold moonless night, a thin sheet of mist covered the peaceful village. It has been three days since the passing of the hunter. This was same hunter that had chased the big bad wolf from grandmother's house. Rumors have been spread that the wolf came back to complete his unfinished business. The hunter was found slaughtered in the woods. A note was pinned on the corpse, the note read: "I'm coming for you, Red."

Red was much older now, no longer was she the naive little girl that had easily mistaken the wolf for her grandmother. She had learned much through life from her lover, the hunter. She was taught to slay the wolves like the beasts they were. She grew to hate them.

It was three days since the murder of the hunter, her beloved. It was the third day in a row where Red sat in the same seat at the tavern, drinking herself half-stupid. She wore the sanguineous red cloak as she mourned. Red had received word from her mother that her grandmother was sick once more, and was given a basket of butter, bread and flowers. Red, putting out her cigarette, shakily got up out of the creaking chair and picked up the basket. She was headed on her way.

However, this was no ordinary trip through the woods, ever since the wolf first reared his ugly head into their lives, Granny and Red have been on to any schemes the wolf may play. They were ready.

Red continued along the dirt path, staggering, fighting off the effects the booze had in her system. The wicker basket swaying around lazily as she walked with uneven steps. The scarlet cloak billowing in the faint breeze. The colors of the cloak fading as her drunken, shuffled steps kicked dust up into the fabric.

All the while the wolf was plotting. Perched atop the trees he saw Red leave the tavern in her stupor. He so wished to get her there and then but he couldn't get near the village. He would catch her at Granny's house instead. Catching two meals for the effort of catching one was very appealing to the wolf. The wolf sprang into action as soon as he saw Red, hand pressed against a tree trunk, retching into one of the bushes.

The wolf moved fast, like crap through a goose. He found himself alone, standing at the door of Granny's house. The door was locked and bolted this time, the wolf grinned at the fact that they had learned something. This was not going to be as easy as he had thought. He gave a gentle rat-a-tat-tat on the door but there was no answer. Far down the trail Red was heard groaning

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

---

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: Children's stories?
We want to hear your view. Write now!