Twisted Tales

Prologue: "It Won't Stop Bleeding."

A deep red cloak billowed out behind a slender frame, fluttering gently in the stiff winter breeze. Weaker beings would shiver in the cold, but she held an axe steadily in her hand. A red deeper than her cape dripped from its edge and dyed the packed snow building itself around her still form. More feathery wisps began to fall over the puddles of blood scattered about her. She stood stunned and locked away in her mind.

Hours before the BLOODSHED

The Wolf was enraged, to have been so easily fooled by Pigs was an unacceptable disgrace to all other Wolves and especially the Agency. They had tricked him and although they had been delicious momentarily it did nothing but fuel his own anger to taste them still between his teeth. It did nothing for the Queen they had not stayed put in his stomach. It did nothing that his reckless methods had assisted them in stealing months worth of intel. The report would be two simple words, cause no excuse could make up for his failings. MISSION FAILED.

He had made sure to write it while he could still hold his head high and keep his tail from between his legs. With fear stirring in his now empty belly he may be able to right at least one wrong. He had his eye on Little Red, a beautiful... NO, gorgeous old flame, that had turned him down. He could imagine her even now, her silky hair laying over her porcelain skin. Bright golden brown eyes that had once sparkled but had not shone when they turned him down.

Somewhere Pigs celebrated, he was sure. People were drinking and laughing, but he was out in the snow to serve revenge. Revenge best served in the frigid cold.

He approached the small pathetic cottage, slamming its wooden door wide open. Red's grandmother gasped, "What are you doing?", she screamed. The Wolf was a feared being, how dare she raise her voice to him? "Where's that bitch, Red?" he said ignoring her, now fishing through the house, breaking open doors as he went. "Watch your mouth, don't talk recklessly when talking about my granddaughter!" he shook his head laughing after having broken open the last door finding it empty.

He turned back to her, she trembled at the look in his eye and attempted to retreat into her kitchen's back wall, "You know what, you looking ravishing today, granny. I could just eat you up."

It was as if Red could feel when her grandmother passed. Her heart stopped, her blood became cold and a shiver ran its cold finger up her spine. She rushed in the direction of the cottage like a predator after prey, the branches whipped across her exposed face, and caught at her hair. She did not feel the pain but I could as if they whipped across mine. I was still miles away with sweet Granny but Red's sadness and confusion leaked into my heart as it should have ran through her.

She knew there was no granny to save before she made it to the cottage door. She knew there was a sick game that had been put into motion. Now miles behind her on the path, her basket sat overturned and long forgotten. Sickly green apples, bruised upon their fall, leaked deadly poison over the trail where children were often lost.

The cloak of her hood fell back from her tear-stained cheeks as she ran. She slowed at the edge of the woods that circled her grandmothers home. Everything was still. Almost too still. Her hand reached out to open the cottage door, it hung rather loosely from its hinges and fell with a muffled thump as she barely stepped out of the way. In the bed off towards the side was her grandmother. Her face jutted out sharply where it had not before, and her small body seemed rather comically large in her tiny bed. It was as if the skin she wore was no longer her own.

Red made her way slowly toward the bed, stumbling along the way. She grabbed at the worn hand that lay still over the blankets. "Granny..." her eyes watered as she stroked the papery skin stretched over knuckles. "I thought... I thought something was wrong." she kissed the hand as a tear fell free. She never overlooked how large it was and how the skin stretched. This was her last talk if ever she would be able to have one again, "Granny what big eyes you have." she started, leaning back but not nervously aware from the figure before her. "Better to see you with."