Into the Wolf's Den: Little Red's Tale of Romance

CHAPTER 5: The First Clue

LITTLE RED

The early morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of my bedroom, casting a warm glow on the walls. I blinked groggily, the remnants of last night’s dream clinging to the edges of my mind. It was the same dream, one that had been haunting me for weeks—shadowy figures lurking in the darkness, a voice calling my name, urging me to run, but I could never escape. I always woke up just before the darkness swallowed me whole.

With a sigh, I pushed myself out of bed, trying to shake off the unease that clung to me like a second skin. The apartment was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city outside. I padded into the small kitchen, my feet cold against the tiled floor, and began the familiar routine of making coffee. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a small comfort in the otherwise unsettling morning.

As I sipped my coffee, I couldn’t help but think about the encounter last night. The man in the alley—there was something about him that I couldn’t shake, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He was familiar, but not in the way you recognize a friend or acquaintance. It was deeper, like I had known him in another life, or maybe in those dreams that wouldn’t leave me alone.

I tried to push the thoughts away, telling myself that it was just a coincidence, that he was just another stranger in this crowded city. But the feeling lingered, biting at me, suggesting that this was not as easy as it seemed.

With a shake of my head, I finished my coffee and went to check on Grandma. She was still sleeping, her frail form barely making a dent in the worn mattress. I kissed her forehead gently before heading out the door. The errands wouldn’t run themselves, and I needed to get them done before the sun reached its peak. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for me out there, something that I wasn’t prepared for.

I grabbed my bag and stepped out into the crisp morning air, pulling my red cloak tighter around my shoulders. The city was already buzzing with life, the streets filled with people rushing to work, vendors setting up their stalls, and children running to school. It was a normal day, just like any other, but as I walked, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched.

My route was the same as always, taking me past the bakery on 5th Street where I picked up fresh bread for Grandma, then down to the market for some vegetables. But today, there was something different—a tension in the air, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

And then I saw it.

A small package, wrapped in delicate white paper, tied with a soft pink ribbon, sitting on the stoop of the apartment building where I lived. It was out of place, like a splash of color in a grayscale world, and it immediately caught my attention. My steps faltered, my heart skipping a beat as I approached it cautiously.

Who would leave something like this here? And why?

I glanced around, but there was no one in sight. The street was as busy as ever, people passing by without a second glance at the strange package. I reached out slowly, my fingers trembling slightly as I picked it up. It was light, almost too light, and I could feel the softness of the paper beneath my fingertips.

I didn’t open it right away. Instead, I took it back upstairs to the apartment, setting it down on the small kitchen table. My mind raced with possibilities, but none of them made any sense. There was no note, no indication of who had left it or why.

Finally, unable to take the suspense any longer, I untied the ribbon and carefully unwrapped the paper. Inside was a single flower, its petals a soft, blush pink, and a small card resting beneath it.

A camellia.

I stared at the flower, its delicate beauty almost mesmerizing. I knew the meaning behind this particular flower, had read about it in one of Grandma’s old books. *Longing for you.* The words echoed in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. Who would send me something like this? And why?

My fingers trembled as I picked up the card, my breath hitching in my throat as I read the words scrawled in elegant handwriting:

**“This is only the beginning, my little red. The Wolf watches, while the game is on.

P's: I mean what the flower means”**

The card slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor as a cold wave of fear washed over me. The Wolf. The man from the alley. He had found me, and this… this was his way of letting me know that he was still watching, that he hadn’t forgotten about me.

My heart pounded in my chest as I backed away from the table, the walls of the apartment suddenly feeling too close, too confining. I needed air, needed to get out, to escape, but where could I go? He would find me, no matter where I ran. The city was his hunting ground, and I was his prey.

But I couldn’t just sit here and wait for whatever was coming next. I had to do something, had to figure out who this man was and what he wanted from me. But more than that, I needed to know why I couldn’t get him out of my head, why I felt this strange connection to him, like we were two pieces of the same puzzle.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Panicking wouldn’t help. I needed to think, to plan my next move. If this was a game, then I had to play it smart, had to stay one step ahead of him.

But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. The Wolf was dangerous, and I had a feeling that this was only the beginning of whatever twisted game he had in mind.

And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face him again. But a part of me was telling me the opposite. There was a thrill, a dark excitement in knowing he was watching me.

That realization hit me harder than anything else. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want him. But somehow, I did.

Even now, as I stood there in my small kitchen, the fear that had gripped me moments before began to fade away, replaced by something else, something deeper.  A curiosity, a desire to understand who this Wolf was and why he had chosen me.

But there was more to it than that. It was also as if a part of me had been anticipating this, waiting for him. The dreams, the sense of being watched—they had all been leading up to this moment. And now that it was here, I couldn’t help but feel a strange, twisted sense of anticipation.

I took another deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The game was on, he had said. But what kind of game was this? And what were the rules?

More importantly, was I really just a pawn in his game, or was there something more? Could I turn the tables, become more than just prey?

I didn’t have the answers yet, but one thing was clear—I couldn’t let fear control me. Not now, not with the stakes so high. I had to be strong, had to find a way to outsmart him, to survive whatever he had planned.

But even as I resolved to do just that, a part of me knew that this was more than just a game of survival. There's something more serious than just life and death.

And though I didn't like to admit it, part of me was also attracted to it, him.

I stole a look at the camellia, with its soft pink petals. It was such a contrast to what my mind was full of- such darkness. Longing for you.

Who was longing for whom? The Wolf for me, or was it the other way around? Because I actually do .
Why am I even asking such silly questions?

I didn’t know, but I intended to find out. But, I had this feeling that  my present life would never be the same anymore when I did.