Red Riding Hood
by Sarah Crouch
The wolf had arrived, as he set in motion his devious plan, he changed into Lettie’s form. He knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” a scratchy voice called within.
“ It is I, Grandmother, Lettie, come to deliver a basket of goods,” the false child said.
The older woman was sitting up in bed looking expectant.
“Hello Lettie! What have brought me?” she beamed.
“Nothing much Grandmother, but food, and a present.”
“Oh what is it? Come closer so I can see it.”
He moved closer, siding up to the bed.
The old seer squinted. Her eyes had grown weak.
“Where is it my child?”
“I have it here, in my hand. Take a closer look, grandma.”
The seer, curious of what the child had brought, leaned over the bed.
The wicked creature grinned, and reached up so fast. His hand was a blur. The old woman’s eyes widened.
The wolf smiled again and rows of sharp teeth had appeared.
“Did you not like my present dear?” His voice was fluttery.
A thin line of blood shown on the woman’s throat where the knife had cut. She fell dead, a look of horror upon her face.
The wolf sniffed delicately.
Little Lettie made her way down the path. The sun was on the horizon as she came to her grandmother’s house. All was silent. The birds did not sing and the woods were cold.
She knocked on the door.
“Hello? Grandmother? It is Lettie. I’ve come to deliver goods.” She opened the door but the house was dark.
Grandmother must be asleep, she thought, so she let herself in.
“Hello, Granny? It’s Lettie, I’ve come to give you some goods.”
“Come in closer,” a soft voice whispered.
The room was quickly becoming dark as the sun set in the distance.
Lettie looked towards the empty beaded frowned in confusion.
The door shut behind her. She whirled around only to face nothing!
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
The whisper came from her left where a rocking chair sat.
The room was dark — except for the lone candle which was beside the chair where a man sat. His silver eyes gleamed and a wicked smile was upon his lips.
Lettie was afraid.
“Who are you? Where is my grandmother?” Her voice was frantic.
“She is dead, child.” The man frowned. “Do you not remember me Lettie?”
“Y-you are the wolf! You’ve been following me! Why are you here? My mother told me that you were of the devil.” Her eyes glistened with tears.
“Dear one, I should hope, so if not who would I be?” he sighed. “I am here because I’ve been watching you. Just ass you said, but it is only because I love you.”
“You cannot love! You are evil!” Lettie was shaking. “Why have you done this? If you loved me you would not have done this this!”
“I do love you! I have done this so we could be together. So you could be mine.” His voice was fevered.
“I hate you!” Lettie scorned.
“That does not change anything. You will not escape me. Not ever. If you fight me I will kill your mother.”
“I will do whatever you wish,” Lettie sobbed.
“You know what I want.” The wolf’s eyes darkened.
“All right.” She continued to sob as he stood up.
Lettie’s cloak came undone from her shoulders and fell to the floor in a pile of crimson.
The wolf smiled and his long teeth gleamed in the candlelight.
“W-what big teeth you have wolf,” Lettie whimpered in fear. A lone tear made its way down her cheek.
His smile grew impossibly wide.
“All the better to eat with, my dear,” the wolf growled.
He leaned forward and blew out the candle. The room plunged into darkness, the moon the only light to bear witness to the horrifying sight to come.