Red

Night One

His breath looked like smoke in the cold air and the sun was slowly setting. Red's heart was beating fast as he stared into the mouth of the beast, or the forest to be more exact.

True to their word he was collected and forced from his home, exhausted from crying. Still here he was, dressed up, wearing very impractical and uncomfortable shoes, feeling very alone.

He asked his grandmother not to come. He asked her to stay home, to stay strong and healthy. He asked that she take care of herself and told her that he wanted her to be happy. He told her he loved her and he always would.

He told her goodbye.

So he stood alone, surrounded by townspeople who treated him like a king, who pitied him, and who were secretly glad it was him and not one of them or their families.

Like last month, like the thousands before it, the sun was almost invisible to the small town shrouding it in darkness, and like the 'Brides' before him, he too set off into the great unknown. Setting off into the darkness, unsure of what he was getting into.

He jumped with every hoot, every gust of wind and crinkle of dead leaves, tripping several times and falling once or twice. He thought about abandoning the path. If he could only make it out the forest, he'd escape.

He'd be free.

But he would also let the rage of the wolves fall onto the village. Glancing around the forest once again, he let out a shaky breath. It was a little too quiet. The owls suddenly didn't make a sound. It seemed like nothing was moving almost as if they had hidden themselves.

But what could make them get that freaked out? Perhaps it was a giant werewolf creeping in the dark. His hands shook and the lantern's light shook as well, the light flickering, playing games with his mind as he walked farther down the path.

Still he continued to walk, speeding up slightly, it was a habit and today, it was a truly useless one.

What was he running to? It was pointless to speed up but he still did so.

He no longer could quicken his pace, hurrying to get to the small cabin where a cup of hot chocolate and oversized marshmallows was waiting for him at the dining room table; where his frail grandmother would be sitting by a lit fire, reading, smiling up at him as he walked in.

No, that wasn't a possibility any longer and as his heartbeat sped up and his breathing quickened in fear, he finally broke down and began to silently sob again.

Stopping on the lonely path, sitting down and curling into himself, he allowed himself a small chance to break down and panic.

Once he calmed his crying, collecting all the courage he possessed, he pressed on. Though his heart never stopped beating at the impossibly fast pace and his breathing never really slowed and the tears never really did stop falling as he stood.

Finally after glancing around fearfully, he remembered a song that they'd often sang as children. A song that never failed to make them feel just a tad bit better and so, he found himself shakily singing the short song.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf, big bad wolf,

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, Tra la la la la.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf, big bad wolf,

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf -"

Suddenly, there was the sound of crunching leaves that was followed by howls in the distance, and ones that sounded far too close for comfort. Gasping, he spun around, holding his lantern up towards the direction the sound came from. All sense of calmness gained from the little song vanished and panic settled in, seeping into his entire being and diluting his brain as he began to shake.

He stopped breathing as he saw something in the shadows of the forest, or well, he thought he did.

Something moved in the dark. He felt something watching him and as he glanced around the forest, he swore that the light of the lantern reflected on a pair of golden eyes before he turned sharply and began to run as fast as he could.

His fear guided him, taking over his body and brain.

As he ran he tripped, fell and at one point, lost one of the shoes they had given him. Still he refused to stop. Instead, he focused on the black in front of him, ignoring where he was going and not watching what was on the ground.

Then, he tripped again over a root and fell down a hill.

His body crashed and banged into trees, rocks, roots, sticks and uneven ground as he fell. Finally, he came to a stop at the bottom - where he lay in agony for once in the dark but unafraid, more focused on the pain engulfing him as he sobbed, sitting up to look at his ankle that was twisted weirdly. He reached out a hand but that too flared up with a white, hot pain.

Hurt and in pain, cold and afraid, sitting in the dark alone, he cried, glancing around for his lantern only to realize that it had smashed some way down the hill, the glass broken, the metal bent and the little candle setting a nearby bush on fire.

As if in shock, and numb to the panic, he sat there staring at the flames. He was done. The panic was there and the instinct to run, to put out the fire, to do well, anything, was still there but he just sat there, in pain and just to tired to react, to do anything really at this point.

What was the point? He thought tiredly.

But nevertheless, as the flames grew, he pushed himself up once again, letting out a silent scream and a not-so-silent sob of pain leave his lips as he put weight on the injured ankle that was undoubtedly broken.

"It hurts." he whimpered to himself.

Oh how it hurts, he thought.

And for the thousandth time that night, he wished he was home and this was a nightmare, a really realistic and vivid nightmare.

But he knew otherwise.

So he did what he could.

He limped in a random direction, hoping that he might make it through the night, and began to sing to himself again. Even though, he was tired, in pain and his voice was filled with tears and exhaustion, it made him feel slightly better. It offered him minimal comfort in a hopeless situation.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf, big bad wolf,

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, Tra la la la la.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf, big bad wolf,

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, Tra la la la la.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf, big bad wolf,

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf -"

"Not me." A deep baritone voice whispered, in his ear.

The man's warmth seeping into his back as Red jumped slightly before promptly fainting.