Once there was a girl who had a really long, hard to remember name that everyone hated and was therefore nicknamed Little Red Riding Hood or Red because of the beautiful soft red hood she always wore to give off that wonderful “don’t talk to me” vibe. She was the daughter of the baker, a plump old woman who was kind and loving and a bit too sweet for Red’s liking. Her father had died after accidentally sticking a flammable wooden spoon into the oven’s flames without realizing it and stupidly setting himself on fire. He wasn’t the brightest; Little Red, however, was quick, clever, and nearly as bright as a shining star. She filled in her father’s place as the formidable butt kicker of the family that protected it at all costs. She was very brazen, in a way that sometimes made her a bit audacious and snotty, attributes that, despite making a lot of people want to beat her up for her arrogance, were also very effective in self defense and protection. She wasn’t large and muscled like her father had been, but she was so good with words that she could dish out 3rd degree burns and cunning arguments like no tomorrow, guaranteeing a win to nearly every threat.
She also happened to be stuck being mother’s little errand girl, since her mother was often to busy baking and earning money for them to live to do petty things like buy more flour.
One day, her mother gave her an unnecessarily big basket of bread and baked goods to take to her grandmother. Red took one look at it, let out a gigantic sigh, and grabbed it roughly, scowling deeply. Traveling all the way over the stupid river and through the big dark dangerous woods to freaking give her grandmother a freaking basket of baked treats was the last thing she felt like doing, no matter how absolutely awesome her grandmother might be. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. Slinging the bulky basket of goods over one arm, She mounted her bike and set off.
The forest was dark and silent except for the chirps of birds and the rustling of the trees. Holding the handlebars, she guided her bike through the roots, branches, and leaves of the forest floor. She blinked and saw a flash of what looked like a gray tail. A few seconds later a tall strong cunning wolf smoothly stepped out from behind a tree. With a bow it introduced itself, “Good day, young lady. I am the humble wolf Sir Fur-Fang.”
Red froze for a split second, surprised; Then she resumed a confident calm slightly defensive position, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up. While the Wolf seemed to be particularly polite and well-intentioned, she knew she couldn’t show weakness, any sign of it was practically an invitation for the Wolf to reveal what might actually be quite a disagreeable nature and target her as a weak and helpless victim. She was also not very pleased to have been stopped by him; she just wanted to get this whole errand over with, she didn’t have time for whatever nonsense that this Wolf wished to stir up. So, In a strong hard tone she demanded, “What do you want?” and added “And for your Information, My name is Little Red Riding Hood or Red, NOT ‘Young Lady’.”
The wolf pouted, clearly pretending to be hurt, “Now Red why must you be so harsh? Is that any way to talk to a poor respectable Wolf like me?”
Red gave him a hard, confident, sassy look that conveyed skepticism and seemed to say “Really?!”. “P-lease, it doesn’t matter how polite or respectable or honest or whatever you claim to be, I am still not going to trust you. I am not going to ignore the fact that your actions are suspicious, by dancing around through pleasantries and such. You clearly want something, so spit it out or get out of my way.”
Sir Fur-Fang stood there astounded; he then blinked and composed himself. In a slightly more icy but still polite tone he replied, “Very well. I can see nothing gets past you and you clearly mean business, so I suppose I will cut to the chase. I was just curious as to what such a vulnerable young woman like you might be doing in such a dangerous place like this?”
Red had scowled slightly during his little speech, clearly disapproving of some of what he said. Irritated, she crossed her arms across her chest and an arrogant, haughty expression was displayed on her face. In an Icy, slightly angered tone she said, “I am glad you can see some common sense but I must ask what on earth you mean by ‘what such a vulnerable young woman like me is doing in such a dangerous place like this?!’ Are you implying that just because I am young and female that I can’t take care of myself? That I am not capable of walking through the woods?” She tilted her chin up, clearly challenging him to see just how capable she was.
The Wolf noticed the challenge and narrowed his eyes a bit; he turned a blind eye to it, however, realizing that she was clearly a formidable foe and to accept it would be pointless anyway. Instead, he went for the slightly safer approach. “Oh, no, sorry- of course not, I was by no means implying that…. I am sure you are perfectly capable of doing so- I just merely meant to ask out of curiosity what business you might have that brings you to these woods today. I really meant no harm.”
Red grudgingly accepted this apology but clearly didn’t fully buy it. In a slightly disbelieving tone she said, “Sure. I personally think that whether you mean harm or not still remains yet to be seen. In any respect, It is really none of your freaking business what I am doing; besides I am only passing through. I mean I could just as well inquire what business you have asking.”
The wolf, starting to get slightly annoyed, decided to try a different approach. He sniffed the air and turned his attention to her basket, he moved closer, clearly trying to peer into it. “Whatever might you have in your basket that could create such a delicious aroma?”
Pulling it away and scowling, Red rearranged the basket’s contents and the cloth covering them, slightly smirking and having a teasing tone “A scrumptious assortment of breads and pastries,” She sniffed it, and with an air of purposely tempting the wolf. “Which-” She injected, slinging the basket on her arm out of his reach and turning her face to his in an hard plain stare, “Don’t belong to you and you will never get to try or savor the sweet taste of. That pleasure belongs to my beloved grandmother, who I am sure can hardly wait. So-” She said, taking the handle bars of her bike and pulling it up right from the tree on which it had been leaning, “I must be getting on. Good day.” She said coldly and haughtily with her nose in the air, pushing her bike past him without even a glance in his direction.
The Wolf stood there, quite ticked off as Red receded from view, her back facing towards him, and retreating with a sense of swagger. ‘Sir Fur-Fang’ clenched his fists and bared his teeth, letting out a bit of a growl which Little Red Riding Hood was now much too far away to hear. If I can’t have those treats, he thought, then neither can Little Red’s precious Granny. Lifting his chin in an air of purposeful decision, he blended into the shadows and foliage of the forest, following and staying slightly in front of her at a safe pace and distance.
After a little bit of travel, Little Red Riding Hood knocked on the door of her Grandmother’s Cottage. There was no response. Slightly impatient, she knocked again and this time got a response. “Come in, dear, it’s unlocked” she heard her grandmother’s voice call from inside.
“Hi, Granny!” Red said as she grudgingly opened the door. “I brought you some pastries”, she added closing the door behind her.
“Oh thank you dear, how very sweet of you” she heard her grandma say. She looked up and took in the surroundings of the room. Little Red’s eyebrows shot straight up. Her grandmother knelt in the center of the room over the corpse of a brutally bloody and mangled Sir Fur-Fang. The Wolf had apparently had a thick hardcover book thrown at him (for one lay askew nearby), been brutally beaten with a broom, and then stabbed in the chest with a common kitchen knife. Her Granny had blood stains all over her but appeared to be unhurt besides a few bruises. She was carefully cleaning the blood and gore from the the kitchen knife. A bucket of soapy water with a sponge floating in it sat nearby and some areas of the floor (particularly around the blood-stained wolf) were wet as if recently scrubbed.
“Why don’t you go ahead and set that basket down on the table, sweetheart” Granny said, as if everything was perfectly normal.
Casting some strange looks in Granny’s direction and filled with hesitant uncomfortability, She skirted around the crime scene and gently set the basket on the table.
“Granny...” Red began.
“Yes, dear?” her grandmother answered.
“Why is there a dead wolf covered in blood on the floor? And- mind that- why are you covered in blood? What the heck happened?!”
“Oh just a little scuffle, that’s all” her grandmother said cheerily. “This wolf, Sir Fur-Fang, I believe he said his name was, thought that he could get rid of me. He tried to kill me, thinking me some poor little old woman... but before he even got the chance to try, I threw this wonderfully thick book-” she lay her hand on the book, which Red now saw was titled ‘Unfurgetable Crimes’ (which made her deeply question her grandmother’s taste in books), affectionately “-at his head which incapacitated him in time for me to grab the broom-” she indicated a very scruffy and damaged broom soaked with blood, “-and defend myself. Unfortunately, he managed to grab the broom between where my two hands were holding it and use it to forcefully push me back, making me fall and slam into the side of the cupboard below the drawer where I store the knifes. I blacked out temporarily with excruciating pain and opened my eyes to find Sir Fur-Fang here-” she nudged the wolf’s bloody body with her shoe “-advancing on me, no more than 3 feet away, teeth and claws ready for slaughter. He grinned, sure that he finally had me in his clutches. Scared, I started looking around me for a way to save myself. Realizing where I was, I immediately threw open the knife drawer and seized this knife-” she ceased her cleaning of the kitchen knife, tucking the cloth in her apron pocket, and held up the now gleaming knife “-with quivering confidence I tackled him, throwing him off guard, and with all my strength ran the knife through the wolf’s heart.”
Little Red Riding Hood stood there clearly impressed and slightly astonished. After a pause she said, her voice full of admiration, “Nice!”
Granny replied to the complement with a modest, “well little old women like me have to take care of themselves now, don’t they? I wasn’t going to let him think he could attack me just because I’m elderly, now was I?”
“Of course not” Red agreed, then after a slight contemplative pause she ventured “You know, granny… I met this so called ‘Sir Fur-Fang’ in the woods on the way to your house today.” She heard Granny gasp. “He was being very nosy and seemed to take far too much of an interest in what I was doing… He even had the indignancy to call me a ‘vulnerable young woman’ and imply that I couldn’t take care of myself!!”
“You sure showed him, didn’t you?” Granny said with a playful and proud smirk.
“Of course” replied Red, “I wasn’t going to let him think me weak and vulnerable! Although, if I knew that he was going to go target and threaten you I definitely would have done much more…” They both looked contemplatively back at the wolf’s bloody and mangled corpse until Little Red decisively said, “Let me help you clean up”.
Little Red Riding Hood made her way through the forest back to her house, cheerfully munching a pastry and walking her bike one handed, The fate of the wolf Sir Fur-Fang and the events of the day still in the traces of her mind.501Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgpa2Cr3HY2
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