Red

Night Two

Given the night, nobody was outside as the sun was setting, only Red.

Red, was an average height sixteen year old boy, with a wide dimpled smile and a touch of freckles on his cheeks, shoulders and chest. Whose eyes were bright and life-filled, forest green matched with slightly wavy, black hair that just brushed his cheekbone and an olive skin tone.

He was thin and his feet were about two sizes too big, causing him to trip and tumble his way through life. Still, he offered everyone he met a smile and maybe spoke a little too much.

There were three things he, like the rest of the village, were terrified of: the forest, the dark and wolves.

On second thought four things: the forest, the dark, wolves and the full moon.

Though some believed those fears silly, to the small, isolated village by the forest, these were reasonable and justified fears; each significant to the dark truth about the forest, the town.

Large, monstrous wolves - the size of bears- cursed the forests, and for centuries, they would attack, taking the female villagers back with them.

'Brides' the village called them.

But finally the mayor solved the problem.

Every full moon one girl would be sent out alone, in a red hooded cape and a white dress, carrying a basket of cakes and wine. She would be given a lantern lit by a candle to guide her path, and sent out into the forest alone.

Well not entirely alone.

From birth it was taught to them; wolves were large, evil monsters, worse than any you could imagine under your bed. The forest is where the wolves lived, hiding in the shadows, and the night was never safe, nor the dark.

But each family feared the full moon the most, the night they could possibly lose one of their own.

Red glanced around, eyes landing on the forest and sped up.

It was a slightly cloudy fall day. The wind was blowing and sending a chill down his spine, causing him to clutch the thin sweater that was filled with holes closer to his body.

The sun was setting fast, but he could see his grandmother's cabin in the distance, causing him to rush faster to get to the small, slowing falling apart building.

It was a small two bedroom cabin, with one broken window in the front that was patched up with duct tape and an old bed sheet. The roof needed to be redone and the building looked like it was going cave in or topple over any day now.

Red swore that there was mold growing on the back wall of the vine covered building as well, but his grandmother still refused to leave. Any time the subject was brought up, she would snort and mumble that 'She was born in this house and she was going to die there.' stubbornly refusing to say anything more on the subject.

Tripping onto the porch, he opened the creaky wooden door, quickly closing it behind him, letting out a sigh of relief.

He had made it.

Still the usually calm, comforting and care-free air of the cabin was unusually tense and uneasy. There was even a faint sound of sobbing coming from the living room that sounded suspiciously like his grandmother.

Biting his lip, he pulled off his old (and practically falling apart) shoes, placing them by the door.

Cautiously he made his way into the living/dining room, running his hand along the wood walls out of habit. Stopping when he saw the mayor and three men - enforcers, sitting on the battered, navy blue couch that had his favourite knitted blue, green and white blanket draped over the back, from when he was reading earlier that morning. His grandmother and the third enforcer sat on the two chairs, the mud brown recliner that the enforcer was sitting on and the navy blue chair that his grandmother was sitting on as she sobbed into her handkerchief.

As one of the floorboards creaked, the mayor looked up, giving Red a small smile.

"Hello, Red. We were just talking to your grandmother about you. Why don't you take a seat and we can talk?" As the mayor said that, the two tall, black haired enforcers stood up and his grandmother's sobs got louder.

Unconsciously, he started to bite his nail, glancing towards the door.

He wished he was out there right now. He'd rather face whatever was out there than this. This was probably so much worse.

"Don't even think about it, boy." The mayor said, the threat laced in his voice as he lost the friendly demeanour.

He glance towards the two spots beside the mayor or the chair and without a second thought, he sat in the chair, curling up and hugging his knees.

Clearing his voice, the mayor pushed some thinning blonde hair out of his eyes, and adjusted his glasses.

"Okay, Red, there is no easy way to say this but this is truly a great honour that is being bestowed upon you. It truly is. You have been chosen to be this month's 'Bride'. You will be heading out tomorrow at sunset and-"

"But I'm a boy!" Red yelled, quickly standing up in shock, eyes watering and hands shaking as fear welled up inside him.

"Only girls are 'Brides'! I'm male!"

"Silence!" The mayor yelled, his face red with anger as he crossed his arms around his large abdomen.

"This is a large honour that is placed on your shoulders. You will be protecting the town from these monsters. Your sacrifice will save the lives of many."

"But my grandmother! Who will help her? Get her medicine? Her groceries?!" Red asked, tears running freely down his face.

"It will be taken care of. We thank you greatly for your sacrifice. You will be taken at noon to ready you for sundown. We'll leave you to spend your last moments with your grandmother."

He looked up at his sick grandmother, her white hair, tied up in a neat bun, blue glasses resting at the end of her nose, light freckles dusting her cheeks and pale skin. She was short and skinny, wearing pink bunny slippers and a baby blue night gown, her shoulders and hands shaking as she cried into the handkerchief.

Slowly he made his way to her, sitting at her feet and resting his head in her lap, smiling through his tears as he felt her old wrinkled hand run through his hair.

He wanted to remember her face, how she always smelled strongly of black coffee.

Her laugh when he would do something stupid like trip over his own feet, always being there to help him bandage his wounds with an expert hand.

He wanted to remember the comforting feeling of hugging her, the feeling of bliss as she ran a hand through his hair.

He wanted to remember her, the small cabin; no matter how run down it was, it was home, she was home and he was about to lose it.

His home. His family. His life.