A Hood Of Red

The summer heat was seething through the forest. Barkless trees lined the path. On that path a young girl trudged. A young girl with a hood as red as blood. Hunger had stripped her face until little remained but skin stretched over bone.

A basket under her arm swayed as she plodded the path. A red-and-white checkered cloth concealed what was inside. Red moved slowly; every step had intent, as if she steadied herself in the dirt before moving further. Red's stare focused on a point in the distance.

"Little girl." A voice from within the forest croaked through a parched throat. "Little girl, what are you doing here?"

The voice belonged to a big wolf who lay beneath a barkless tree in the shade.

"Go home." She laid her head back on her paws. "The forest is starving."

The little girl stopped. One hand found the trunk of a tree near Wolf. Her breath scraped through her throat, her rattling teeth echoing through the silent forest.

"Sir... Wolf." She hardly managed to finish the sentence. "Such hunger, such... thirst."

The girl fell to her knees in front of the wolf.

"The heat destroyed your crops, dried your wells, and now you ask the forest for help?" The wolf stood. She towered above the little girl. "The same forest you hack down. You burn. You kill its inhabitants." The growl of the wolf grew louder. "Tell me, why should we?"

Red threw her head up, the movement more a spasm than intention. Her eyes had trouble focusing. Her face and muscles tensed as she threw the basket. It flew through the air and landed in front of the wolf with a bang.

The wolf jumped back as the impact nearly touched her feet. The basket rolled once, then twice across the forest floor. The first roll pulled away the red-and-white checkered cloth, revealing a wet red interior. The cloth lining the basket glimmered with a thick red liquid.

She frowned as two objects rolled out: the head of a woman and that of a man. Their faces frozen in their last expression.

Her gaze shifted between Red and the two severed heads. The wolf blinked once, then lowered her head and smelled them. The scent of fresh blood tickled her nostrils. They were still dripping. Fresh.

"Red?"

The wolf stepped back, her eyes fixed on the little girl, whose upper body traced small concentric circles while she remained on her knees. Her eyes twitched erratically from one side to the other. Her breaths heaved faster in short deliberate grunts.

The wolf took another step back as she saw the cracked lips of the little girl stretch. Teeth showed through them. They were red. A single drip of bloody saliva left her mouth.

"Red? What happened?"

The wolf looked once more at the heads. Where they had been severed, the wounds were ragged with semicircular tears. Faint teeth marks were imprinted in the flesh.

Red shifted her weight to one side and forced herself upright. She grunted as she stood.

"Have you eaten them?" The wolf stepped backward as Red slowly came forward.

The little girl's arms stretched toward the wolf who now looked into her eyes. Her pupils didn't focus. She didn't blink for far too long.

"Red? Are you okay?"

The wolf stepped forward, not taking her eyes off the little girl. Her nose caught Red's scent. She smelled human; the sour stench of sweat was barely masked by floral perfume.

There was no wind, no rustling of branches, nor the singing of birds. Red stopped breathing for a few seconds, letting silence take over the forest.

Red took a step forward, then let herself fall toward the wolf, her small hands grabbing at her fur, clawing and pulling her down.

The wolf jumped at the impact, throwing her weight from side to side. She pulled with all her might to free herself from the grip. Every strand of fur torn from her hide sent a jolt of pain through her body, making her eyes water.

"Red! Let go!"

She snapped her mighty jaws toward the girl's arm. The taste of blood filled her mouth, yet Red neither saw nor felt the bite. Her grip remained unwavering.

The wolf screamed as she pulled with all her strength, straining every muscle in her legs. With a ripping sound, tufts of fur came free from her hide.

The wolf was free.

She ran into the forest. Once she looked back, only to see the girl in the red riding hood sitting where she fell. A rattling sound was the only thing that followed the wolf deep into the forest away from the path, like the yipping of a hyena. The sound made the wolf flinch; she shivered all over, spitting out the thick, salty blood.

The wolf stopped running. Still panting heavily, her ears perked to the west. Her head followed. She needed to tell her. Wolf knew Red would go there next.

In a clearing in the forest stood a small, simple cottage. The roof was covered with a thick layer of straw, the walls were made of red bricks, and its windows were closed as a desperate measure to keep the heat out. Inside a single room held a wooden table with four chairs, a bed in a corner, and a fireplace on which a pot was whistling. An old lady sat in the thin streak of light that came in through a crack, her glasses on the tip of her nose. She was rocking in her chair, reading a tale of some world forgotten long ago. The whistling of the kettle made her look up. Her knees popped one by one when she leaned on them. An old, weathered mug was filled with steaming water, scented with mint leaves and basil. An old lady's way of handling the heat.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Two paws scratched against the wooden door.

"Grandmother?" The voice was calm, dry, and lightly canine.

Grandmother looked toward the door. She carefully hung the tea back over the fireplace.

"Yes, dear?"

"It's Wolf. Let me in, please."

"I heard it was you, Wolf. I can't open the door. The heat will come in with you."

More scratching.

"Please, there's something wrong with Red."

A loud sigh escaped the old lady as she slowly strolled toward the door. She needed to move the heavy wooden bar that locked the door.

"Wait, dear. I'll need my cane."

"Hurry, Grandmother. I hear her coming." The wolf's voice trembled heavily.

Grandmother frowned. "Red's coming to visit? How nice."

"NO!" the wolf yelled, clearly hurting her throat. "Something happened to her."

Grandmother took her cane and levered the heavy beam out.

"Don't be silly." She pushed the last inch of the beam away.

A creak followed as the wolf put all her might into the door to open it. Sunlight flooded the single room. Grandmother flinched at the heat, slowly shaking her head.

Wolf slumped in the doorway, catching her breath. With widened eyes and perked ears she scanned the tree line. A branch snapped in the forest, her eyes squeezed to slits. A small red hood was bobbing slowly into view.

The little girl under it had blood-red eyes with fully dilated pupils. Streaks of red liquid dripped from her cracked lips while she kept chewing. In her hand were the half-chewed remains of a rabbit. Her head moved from side to side, searching, as her blood-red eyes locked on Wolf. Wolf closed her eyes and tried to shake off the penetrating stare with a whimper.

Without saying anything, Wolf jumped inside, spun around, then, with two paws and all her weight, she pushed against the other side of the door. It creaked as the hinges strained. The steps outside grew louder. The shadow of a hooded head slowly crept across the doorway.

Wolf heard the jagged breathing of Red. A smacking sound followed. As she came closer, two grabbing clawing arms emerged from the shadow. Wolf jumped against the door, which, with a loud bang, closed. She kept it closed with her body.

"Quick." Her voice was hoarse; her breath matched her heartbeat. "The beam."

"Wolf, what's wrong?" Grandmother leaned on her cane when bending over to get the beam back. "Don't let Red stand in the sun."

Wolf seized the beam and grabbed it in her jaws.

"Red is no longer Red," she said after she dropped it in the holder.

Bang.

Two little arms hit the door.

"Graaannnndddmoootherrr." The voice was more wind than sound. "Opennnnn."

Grandmother frowned.

"What's happened to Red?"

"She got... she got..." Wolf thrust out her tongue, panting to get the heat under control. She coughed once. The heat, together with the physical strain, left her parched.

She coughed again.

"She has changed," Wolf said while she slumped on the floor, coughing up salty mucus. It tasted wrong. Her lungs hurt. She heaved, her head jerked up. Her ears twisted, and her mouth fell open.

"Oh no." She spat out a blood tinged saliva.

"Wolf?" Grandmother took a step back. "Wolf, you have such big eyes."

Wolf looked at her. She heaved more. Her lips were so dry, they hurt her. She tensed them, showing her teeth.

"Wolf, you have such big teeth."

Wolf stood up, her tail between her legs. Bloodied drool escaped her mouth.

"Wolf, your nose."

Grandmother looked at the bleeding nose of Wolf.

Wolf growled. She slowly circled around the old woman.

"So thirsty," Wolf muttered. "Hungry." The vowels were all stretched as her voice softened and became more of a screech than a sound.

Grandmother stepped back, leaning on her cane.

"Wolf? Stay there, dear."

The banging on the door stopped. It became scratching and hissing.

"Red, dear?" Grandmother kept her eyes on Wolf. "So it is like this, is it?"

Wolf leaped onto the table. Her teeth snapped toward the old lady, who sidestepped just in time, so they bit the warm air.

A howl came from outside as the scratching gained speed.

"Graannddmotherrrr, opennnn. So hungry."

Red's voice was as twisted as Wolf's became.

"You bit her, right?" Grandmother asked Wolf.

Wolf stood on the table. Her pupils dilated slowly, and the drool became heavier. Long strands dripped onto the wood.

"Kill me," she heaved.

Grandmother answered with a single nod.

Wolf leaped toward her, her paws and jaws ready to rip, shred, and eat.

With the grace of a snake, Grandmother swirled around the attack, took the kettle, and with a single swipe hit Wolf straight in the face with it. The boiling minty tea burned Wolf, raising blisters on her tongue. She shook her head. The pain did not seem to bother her.

Grandmother hit her on the head with her cane. Hard. Wolf's head bobbed, trying to shake it off. Grandmother hit her again. She put her whole weight behind the strike, maximizing the impact.

Wolf dropped to her knees. Another whack made her fall off the table, slumping between a chair and the fireplace.

Everything was fuzzy. Everything hurt; pain came and went like waves in the ocean. The heat. The heat came back. It was so warm. What was that taste? Disgusting. Mint? Basil?

Wolf opened her eyes. She lay on the bed, her paws drawn tight.

"Gwandmoffew?" she spoke through a burned tongue. Immediately, her face twitched from the pain. The old hag came into sight from the corners of her eyes.

"Yes, Wolf. You're feeling better?" the witch came closer. "Less hungry, dear?"

Wolf nodded. Biting through the pain, she lifted her head. She couldn't see well, but she saw a red hood on the table.

"Red." Her voice died down to a whisper. "Did Red make it?"

Wolf tried, but her head was too heavy for her neck. She rested it back on the bed, fighting every blink to open her eyes again.

Grandmother was quiet.

One sound filled the cottage: the steady dripping of a thick liquid onto the ground. The scent of fresh blood hit the wolf’s nostrils.

A round hard object rolled over the wooden table.

Schplat.