To Grandmother's House

Inside the Cabin

The wooden door to Grandmother's House opened with a creek, and Red peered inside at a small empty room lit by a single oil lamp hanging overhead. Slowly, she stepped in, her muscles tense and her senses on high alert. If something dangerous truly awaited her, she was ready to run. Her eyes caught a glimmer, and she turned to a corner of the room, her dagger clenched tight. The shine had come from a small urn that sat on a shallow stool. The urn seemed to be made of silver and was polished to perfection, and the stool below it had the word 'Grandmother' carved into its rim by a master calligrapher.

"I've been expecting you," a voice came, and Red instantly turned in the direction of the sound, ready to pounce, only to find a woman standing by the entrance. She had dark hair and wore a deep mauve pantsuit with matching high heels. She had a pretty face with eyes that almost glowed as they sparkled under the light of the oil lamp, and ears that were a bit wide and flat in comparison to her other sharp features.

"Who are you?" Red demanded.

The woman pulled out a badge from her suit and flashed it before Red's eyes. "I'm Grandmother."

Red scanned the badge, taking note of the woman's picture that was clearly taken a while ago. While she still had a pointed nose and grey eyes, her hair had grown quite a bit from the bob cut she'd sported when the picture was taken, and she'd even gotten rid of a flashy piercing she had on the rim of her right ear. Below the picture was the name 'Agent Grandmother.'

"I'm glad to know you made it here safely," Grandmother said.

"Why the name Grandmother?" Red asked.

"I didn't choose it; I inherited it," Grandmother replied, walking past Red into the cabin. She reached out and pointed towards the urn. "You can place the drive in there."

Red looked at the urn as her conversation with Wolf rang in her head. She had to be extremely cautious. "Why don't you open the urn for me?"

"Because only your fingerprint will open it," Grandmother said, sounding bored. "Quick, let's get this over with."

Red stepped up to the urn, keeping an eye on Grandmother through the reflection on the smooth service. Grandmother looked bored, but her muscles seemed tense. Maybe they weren't; perhaps as a result of Wolf's words, Red's imagination was on fire. After all, if there was really a bomb in the urn, Grandmother wouldn't be in the cabin with her. Swallowing her suspicion, Red placed her thumb on the little black square on the top of the urn. There was a soft click, and the lid started to come off. A glint caught Red's eye, and she noticed something strange; the tip of Grandmother's left ear was shimmering and seemed almost translucent. Red hadn't noticed it before, but through the rounded reflection, she could see the light of the oil lamp hit Grandmother at a different angle and reveal the shimmer. A shimmer that was never seen in humans; but quite commonly seen in malfunctioning holograms. Panic flooded Red's mind as her heart fell to her stomach. NO! 

 The lid shot off, and a cloud of thick smoke instantly filled the cabin. Red fell to her knees as toxic gas filled her lungs, choking her and bringing tears to her eyes. She gasped and felt the bile rise from her stomach. Her body wanted to pass out, but Red clung to consciousness with every fibre of her stubborn being. If this was her end, she would go fighting. 

Struggling to get clean air into her lungs, Red reached for the pouch fastened to her belt when a stinging pain flared around her neck, strangulating her throat as a figure appeared behind her. With desperation flooding her mind, Red clawed at her neck and found a thin wire cutting into her skin. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she drew power she didn't know she had to pull a dagger from her belt and blindly fling it backwards.

A pained grunt erupted from behind Red and the wire around her neck loosened. Retching and coughing, Red wheeled around, and through the tears blinding her eyes, she saw a figure on the floor. She couldn't make out who it was; all she could see was a blur of dark smears against a hazy white background. Red's throat started to close up, and she immediately bolted for the door, desperation fueling each step. She had to leave the cabin; she needed fresh air. 

 Unable to clearly see anything before her, Red slammed into a wall and started feeling around. The door had to be there. Her fingertip scraped through a smooth rounded surface. The doorknob! Red gripped the smooth metal ball with two hands and pulled as hard as she could, but the door didn't budge. It was bolted; it stood like an iron fortress blocking her way out and crushing her hopes of escaping alive.

Red's nerves ran cold, and she slowly turned around to find the figure stand up and pull a knife out of its shoulder. Red's stomach churned, and she fell to her knees, throwing up bile that stung her mouth. Pain shot through her insides, crippling her with agony and her lungs threatened to collapse. This was the end. For the first time in her life, Red's gut had failed her. Wolf was right; she was going to die in the cabin.