dreamnotfound / gream • one shot / short story book

little red riding hood, but different

I'm going off of teen wolf logic here not like werewolf lore btw so excuse that

summary: George pays a visit to his grandma and
his life changes when he meets a big 'bad' wolf.
- blood/gore/death warning -

George rolled his eyes at his mom, who had just shoved a plastic container of bread into his hands.

"You are going to see your grandma, and you are going to like it!" She demanded, her tone was stern but still caring. She turned sassily on her heels, taking care of the dishes they'd just been using for dinner.

George grumbled, he was 20 now, he shouldn't have to be the one to visit his grandma with her bread supply. His little sisters were old enough now, but his mom had to burden him with this task nearly once a month.

A voice chimed up behind him. "And wear that hoodie she gave you for Christmas, it would make her day!" George stopped in the middle of the kitchen. "But mum! I can't even see red why do I have to-!"

"No buts, just go wear it! You'll be late if you keep arguing." His mother said, facing him with a hand on her hip. She waved him on with her hands and he rolled his eyes.

George trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, grabbing the one hoodie that looked like it wasn't the correct color and sliding it on. He yelled a goodbye to his mom before leaving, taking off towards his grandmothers house.

For some reason when his family moved to America six years ago, they'd bought a small cabin in the woods as per request of his grandfather, who had long since passed. The cabin was nearly three miles into the woods. He played a game on his phone on the way there, speeding up every time he heard a random crack or animal scurry across the ground.

He'd made it to his grandmother's cabin, knocking on the door a few times before entering. "Nana!" He called out.

"Oh thank goodness you're here, George! I've missed you!" His grandmother cheered, entering the room slowly with her arms outstretched for a hug. His grandma was one of the few people he could actually lean down to hug, and he loved it.

"Did you have any trouble on the way here, dear? There have been a lot of wolves howling out here recently." She asked, taking the Tupperware full of bread from his hands. "Oh and you wore that hoodie I got you! How sweet of you!"

"No I didn't hear anything weird, just nature stuff." George looked at the photos aligning the walls. In one of them he was sitting on his grandma's lap, reading a book to his little sisters. George felt his lips upturn at the memory.

"That's good, love. You better get on home now before it gets dark. I don't want to keep you, it might start to rain." His grandmother kissed him on the cheek before shoving him towards the door.

He said a quick bye, before taking off in the same direction that he came. Along the way, his phone died, the black screen mocking him as if it knew he had another two miles to go.

Now that he was paying more attention, George did hear some strange sounds. Almost frantic footsteps rang out in the distance. But he had to admit, the walk was otherwise beautiful. The little animals scurrying about, the birds flying through the trees gracefully, the deer drinking from a pond, the presumably dead boy leaning against the tree, the rays of sun- wait. George's head snapped back to where he saw it. The presumably dead boy leaning against a tree. Okay. Now he'd been a little freaked out. He still had at least another mile and a half to walk till he made it home. Couldn't this guy have waited to die in the woods until he'd been long gone?

George picked up a stick and slowly began to approach the boy. "Hey man is some sort of joke it's over now ha ha funny."

No response.