The Untimely Death of Little Ruby Rider

Chapter 3: The Grandmother's Story

The next morn, which was the day of the full moon, the parents dressed Ruby up in their finest clothing and upon their head they were given the bright red cloak. "Your grandmother is sick," said they, "You are to deliver her the goods in this basket and come home." Both parents knew the trip would take her until well after nightfall to return. And with that, Ruby was sent off hurrying along the forest path, knowing they were only safe, so long as the sun shined bright. But the path was long and arduous and Ruby often had to stop many a time in order to catch their breath. And though the parents had fooled the village, Ruby was not so easily tricked. They knew that the path was long and that tonight was the full moon. And they had heard the tales of the werewolf that had once terrorized the village and now prowled the woods. Those thoughts carried them along and by the time they had arrived at their grandmother's, the sun was already beginning to dip behind the trees. Though the food in the basket was intended for their grandmother, Ruby had grown hungry and had eaten most of the goods inside. When they knocked softly on their grandmother's door, it was with a weary and exhausted arm. A rustling announced that she was home and suddenly the door was thrust open. A large rifle was shoved into their face, almost up their nostrils. They yelped and dropped the basket. "Who are you?" growled the grandmother, a fierce look upon her face. Little Ruby trembled and slowly raised their hands into the air. 

"Please..." said they, "Please spare me. I am your grandchild, Ruby. My parents sent me here under the guise that you were ill and I was to bring you goods for your health. But I can see that it is not so, as I had thought. I believe my parents sent me here to be murdered by the werewolf that resides in these woods. You see, they cannot accept the fact that I am neither boy nor girl." The grandmother slowly lowered her gun, a look of sadness upon her wrinkled face. 

"Well, that is no surprise." replied she, "Your parents were never very open minded. Come, child, and I will make us food to eat." Ruby gathered their things and quickly followed their grandmother in, slamming the door behind them. Turning quickly, the grandmother began rustling through the kitchen, throwing out pots and pans, and tossing out piles of veggies. She looked sternly at Ruby and said, "Come child, do you think standing so still will be of use to me? Light the fire and busy yourself with helping chop these vegetables!" Little Ruby set to work at once, striking a match and bathing the room in a soft orange light as the fire was lit. As the room grew warmer, and the shadow of the fire danced along the walls, the grandmother told her story. 

"I, like you, was born and raised in the village." began she. "My parents were very well off, my mother running the town store and my father serving as the town attorney. Yet, those were the days when every full moon, we had to board up our windows and bolt our doors and pray to live another day. I lost my brother to the wolves. He had gone out late with his friends. We waited anxiously for his return, but by then, the sun had set hours ago and we were forced to abandon any hope of his return. He never came back after that day. Though I had always been frightened of the werewolves, that day brought out a new side, because along with the terror, the grief, the loss and the horror, was born a deep rooted hatred. I swore to avenge my brother's life. When I grew older, and against my parent's will, I fell in love with your grandfather, married and moved into the woods. We build the house inside this tree hollow, knowing the werewolf cannot penetrate it. And monthly, when the full moon showed face, we took our guns out and tried to kill the beast. But fate was not on our side. Your grandfather was ravaged by the wolf, and his left leg bitten off. With nothing but a bleeding stump for a leg, he barely made it back. I nursed him as best as I could, but no matter my efforts, it became abundantly clear the wound was infected and he was going to die without proper help. We traveled back to the village the next morn, and begged for medical attention, but non would come near for there had been invented a "werewolf plague", and the villagers feared us. The doctor refused us at his door. By then, your grandfather was on his deathbed. He passed quietly and is buried just beyond the village. I soon learned I was with his child and with that as cover, I was able to find a home. Your father grew to live a werewolf free life but somehow along the way learned intolerance. When he married and was able to live on his own, I went back to the woods, reigniting my quest to murder the beast. And so, naturally, I am sure, you were not made aware of my existence until naught but two days ago, yes?"