RED HOOD ✔

14: MASON MAGMA

It's been two days, and sleep has been a distant memory. Susanna, Aunt Liza, and Apsychos have stopped by, but their visits barely registers. Even Maurice drops in from time to time. They bring me food and water, amongst other essentials, sustaining my body even as my mind races.

I want to escape this solitude, I really do, to see the others and stop their worrying, but the beast has stolen someone dear to me, again.... Ruth. I couldn't even really figure out how I felt, could i have loved her? The beast has yet again taken from me, she's gone. I won't let him take another life. He's reallly cocky now, he is bound to make a mistake, I have to be patient,  I can't afford to take any chances. I must be ready when the time comes.

This library holds secrets, ancient knowledge that could be the key to my strength. Like for one; apparently, each Red Hood inherits the powers of those before them, while the wolf, too, gains new and terrifying abilities as it evolves. Then how can I expect to keep up if not even a single red hood has defeated the beast once. it almost feels like we were meant to lose. It's a sick cycle if you ask me, these twisted rules of power. The Lava Eagle Men—once human—are a testament to that. I doubt the first Red Hood had to contend with winged men spewing molten lava.

Wait... The first Red Hood. How did I not consider this earlier? The wolf must have existed in his time. But who was he? Who was the first Red Hood? I shout into the silence of the library, my voice echoing off the walls. Suddenly, a book flies towards me, landing softly on the table. Its cover reads, "Mason Magma's Journal."

Who is Mason Magma? My hands tremble as I open the book

(Mason Magma's Journal)

I was only twelve when my world shattered. My father, the best hunter in the village, had earned a reputation that brought him both wealth and admiration. His skill with a bow and his keen tracking abilities were unmatched, making him a revered figure among our people. My mother, a formidable leader in the Red Cross, our village's anti-crime force, commanded respect with her strategic mind and unyielding courage. They were pillars of strength and security, their presence a constant reassurance to all who knew them.

But their greatness made them targets. Anyone would think their deaths were a mere violent mugging—of course they would. It was meant to look that way. To suggest that two of the village's strongest could be felled by a common street thug was laughable. Growing up under their guidance, I learned to see through the façades that deceived others. I understood the truth that eluded most: my parents, with their status and influence, had gained a deadly enemy—the Crooked Blade, Led by the vile Albius Crane, a man whose very name sent shivers down spines. The Devil himself, he's the one most responsible for this village being the trash heap that it is. Albius... your biggest mistake was letting me survive. I most definitely will find you

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I was thirteen now and needed to be at least 16 to join the village's defence the red cross, even though I am literally the son of one of their greatest fighters. I may be a kid but I swear I was a more capable fighter than most of the knights of the red cross, I showed great potential even as a kid and my training had gotten even more rigorous since after their deaths. I am probably now a match for their captains, though I doubt they would give me the opportunity to prove it.

As I was refused a place in the red cross I decided to serve justice myself, I couldn't wait any longer. Taking up the red hood of my late father, his bow and the sword of my mother in hand as  my goal was one that would most definitely taint my hands in blood. I was to strike fear into the hearts of criminals and present hope into the eyes of those who have been robbed of their peace, I was to make sure no kid suffered the same faith I did, I was only thirteen but it was a task I was willing to take.