RED HOOD ✔

16: PRISONERS

I couldn't believe it. Ruth—dead? But I hadn't seen her body. It didn't make sense. She was part of my life, someone I cried for, trusted with my soul. I thought she had my back. Turns out she was aiming for it instead. And she hit her mark.

I stumbled out of the library, the first time I'd seen sunlight in three days. My voice cracked as I called for Kendra, and she swooped in without hesitation, carrying me off to Aunt Liza's.

When we arrived, I pushed open Aunt Liza's door and was met by familiar faces: Anna, Apsychos, and Aunt Liza herself. They turned at the sound of the door, worry etched in their expressions.

"Vincent!" Anna's voice broke the silence as they rushed to embrace me. Aunt Liza's arms wrapped around me next, her warmth bringing the first bit of comfort I'd felt in days.

"We were worried about you," she murmured softly, with Apsychos chiming in, "Yeah, man, you had us scared. Did you find what you needed?"

But I couldn't share their relief. My face must have betrayed my inner turmoil because Anna's smile faltered. "I'm sorry about what I said... about Ruth. I was wrong," she began, her voice wavering.

I cut her off, my words sharper than intended. "Yeah, you were wrong. She's so much worse than you ever imagined."

Confusion flashed across their faces as they exchanged looks.

"Ruth is the werewolf," I finally admitted, my voice bitter. The weight of the truth pressed down on me, suffocating.

Their expressions twisted in shock

My words hit like a punch to the gut. How had I been so blind? I came here to avenge my mother, to kill the beast that had stolen her from me. Instead, I ended up kissing it.

What would my mother think of me now? The thought of her smile, her laugh—how she could always cheer me up—brought a lump to my throat. She loved this place, and I loved it too. I couldn't let it be destroyed, not by Ruth, not by the beast she had become.

So what now? Am I supposed to kill Ruth? 

I was in a trance, lost in a sea of questions. Flashes of Ruth's face appeared in my mind—the first time we met, that fierceness in her eyes that I found so intimidating and enchanting at the same time, and later on, how they softened in the inn. She had acted strong, powerful, flirtatious even, but when she fled from the Crooked Blade, her eyes had been full of tears. She had been terrified. Ruth is scared, I just know it, this whole time, she has been waiting for someone to save her, I know this must be hell for her. That was the Ruth I knew, the girl who aspired to be like Mason, the girl who asked me for help —the same girl who murdered my mother.

Aghhhhhhhh.

"This isn't Ruth's fault," I said, my voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

Anna, looking at me in disbelief, crossed her arms. "What do you mean? She's the wolf, Vincent. You said it yourself."

"No, Anna, you don't understand... I mean I might not understand either but... She's as much a victim as we are. She didn't choose any of this."

Anna stepped back, fury blazing in her eyes. "Vincent, she got close to you knowing she's the wolf! She knew what she was, and still, she chose to be near you. If she had even a shred of conscience, she'd have stayed away!"

Her words felt like knives, and my fists clenched in response, my breath coming fast. "It's not that simple, Anna! It's a curse. All of this is a curse! Have you even thought for a second that maybe she got close because she needs help? Isn't she part of this village too? Does Ruth not deserve salvation like the rest of us?"