Rot (A Little Red Riding Hood Retelling)

Prologue

Even if you heard of this before, once upon a time, there was a small Hallenhaus cottage in the middle of the dark forest of Märchenbuch. That was the name of the town. A town so isolated from the world that even the Kingdom of Prussia tend to forget it exists. Or perhaps, they do know it exists but many are so afraid of it that they wish that it didn't exist. That it would be nothing more but a fairy tale. But much to Prussia's misfortune, it does exist, and it is an accursed land, and anyone who stays there are cursed to live unfortunate fates. And it is here in this forest that many would prefer to avoid, even in the daylight.

But not Godelinde Haas. She has lived in the Dark Forest for many years. Surrounded by tall trees and with no neighbours nearby. It's been her home since she was a young woman and unlike many, she hasn't faced such terrible horrors. For she lives protected, even in the day. The garden in front of her house is planted with monkshood to repel the wolves from getting near her cottage. She even has them hanging by the windows and doors in pots. And Lady's mantles grow between the rocks around her cottage. But most importantly, she has a cross hanging from the entrance door. So she has nothing to worry about.

Or does she? -

CHOP!

Godelinde cuts off the head of a white rabbit on a wooden chopping block, on top of a small round table. Her hands are bloody and slick with rabbit fat. The decapitated head of the rabbit lays next to the chopping block with its beady eyes wide open and staring up at the ceiling.
Godelinde Haas is an old and serene-looking woman in her late 60's, with silvery hair braided over her shoulder and dressed in a white nightgown, making her appear like a ghost. Especially when her face is just as pale as her nightgown. An apron embroidered with blue flower patterns around the edges is draped over her gown and tied around her waist to make sure she doesn't get stained by the rabbit's blood.

She hums a song called The Duration of Life in a soft melancholic tune as she continues to chop the rabbit meat into small square pieces. It is then cleaned and dumped into a boiling cauldron that hangs above a burning fireplace.

Godelinde takes a wooden spoon and stirs the pot, mixing the rabbit meat with the carrots, pepper, onions, garlic, juniper berries and red wine.

"This should make for a good Hasenpfeffer indeed," she mutters as she cleans her hands with a wet cloth.

She walks away from the fireplace to the cupboards at the other side of the cottage to grab a jar of tea leaves. The inside of the cottage is fairly simple. The flooring is made of hardwood. And on this floor alone, there is only the round kitchen table beneath the open window, the cabinets and a blue tattered 1760 sofa covered in deer fur blankets.

Godelinde tosses the cloth aside once her hands are cleansed. As she opens the cupboard and searches for the jar of tea leaves, she proceeds to sing The Duration of Life.

"When God created the world and was about to determine the duration of life for all the creatures, the donkey came and asked, "Lord, how long am I to live?" God gave him thirty years and asked if it was all right with him. The donkey replied 'That is a long time. Think of my existence carrying heavy loads from dawn till dusk -."

SCRAAAATCH.

Godelinde pauses. Her grey eyes looks towards the door.

There's scratching noises coming from the other side of her door. Outside of her cottage. Godelinde frowns at the noise.

The scratching suddenly stops.

Though confused as she is, she decides to proceed with her evening, assuming that it was just a squirrel coming down from her rooftop. Her cottage is standing next to an oak tree, after all.