The air was saturated with the sounds of his ragged breathing and the coppery tang of blood. The smell was so pronounced he scrubbed his nose with the back of his wrist, thinking blood might be in his nostrils.

As the humanoid Wolf heaved, depositing the bodily remains into the bathtub, the only light present spilled in through the bathroom door—daylight from a window in the adjacent room. It showed a white linoleum floor spattered red.

Wolf forcefully exhaled, pushing the curtain closed. A sequential popping sound followed as he slid down, the curtain breaking away from the shower rings as he lowered to sit in the floor with his back against the tub, the curtain descending to drape over his shoulder.

Wolf sighed, extending his leg to push something wet across the floor. Why is this a problem? he thought. I’ve never dealt with leftovers before. Was I just swallowing everything whole?

Wolf was focused on the ache in his butt as it pressed into the hard floor when his stomach lurched, causing his ears to lie flat. He suddenly looked around, embarrassed. But there was no one around to hear.

“Ugh, old people do not agree with me,” he muttered, rubbing his rounded stomach. “Why the hell did I think I could eat them both?” A lump raised in his throat as he considered eating more.

Wolf hooked his paw over his snout but pulled it away again as it matted the hair there. He shook his head, then tapped his index claw against his brow while forcing his eyes shut. Little Red Riding Hood. Why are you such a pain in the ass?

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He had seen her leave the village along a road that wound through the woods, so he returned each morning, sat next to the road, and waited for her to leave again. The only problem was the hunter who also left on patrols each day. He remained on lookout for him, but the hunter remained mysteriously absent.

He heard a great commotion and even screaming from the village. He stood, considering whether to check it out or bolt. Before he could decide, the commotion ceased, and his mark stepped out onto the road. She was marching his way, which immediately put his mind back on task. The girl wore the same red cloak that she always had. Her hood was up, which concealed her eyes, but a black braid hung from the front opening.

“Good day, Little Red Riding Hood,” Wolf said.

“Piss off,” came the reply.

Wolf tilted his head. “Uh… Where are you off to so early?”

She didn’t respond and walked past.

Alarmed, he turned to trot alongside her. “Are you in a bad mood or something? Having a bad day?”

Little Red stopped and spun on him. “I’ll tell you what, if you can catch me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Hell, I’ll even give you anything you ask for.”

Wolf’s eyes narrowed and his ears flattened. Why do I suddenly feel I’m not the one to mistrust here?

“What’s wrong?” she taunted. “Afraid you can’t catch little ole me?”

“What happens if I don’t catch you?”

Little Red shrugged. “I guess you can just try again tomorrow.”

A series of wide-mouthed lunges followed, but the form inside the cloak always remained out of reach. He chased her, but she was fast—unnaturally fast. The chase led them into the forest—a game of cat and mouse where Wolf felt increasingly less like the cat.

Little Red rounded a tree and her cloak flared, stretching towards him.

Wolf reached, trying to bite the cloak as they circled the tree. But the cloak disappeared. He slowed as he continued to circle, looking back to see if she would come around behind him. He looked in both directions, but he couldn’t hear or smell her. She was gone.

The sound of a chirping bird snatched his attention, then he looked towards another sound. They were unfamiliar. He sniffed at the ground to find their tracks, but outside of circling the tree, they didn’t exist. There wasn’t a direction he could backtrack.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Wolf whimpered as he looked around. Then, he wandered, trying to find his way back—from where, he didn’t know. He took a step and froze, a dry leaf crunching beneath his foot, yet sounding like a thunderclap. He withdrew and observed his paw as he eased back on his haunches, flinching at the new eruption of sound underneath him.

Wolf opened his eyes again and stared blankly at the padding on his paw before closing it into a fist. He had felt that leaf breaking apart.

His ear flicked as another bird called and he looked around as if seeing everything for the first time. A tree top canopy was above, but sunlight shone through gaps, the rays reaching down to touch various locations of the underbrush. His nostrils flared as he observed the rays. Was he smelling sunshine? He didn’t know how, but sights, smells, and sounds all seemed…richer somehow.

Days passed as Wolf wandered. The only familiarity he found was when Little Red showed up again. She wasn’t there, then she was. No matter how lost he became, she kept showing up. She would swat him on the nose, then run away as he chased.

Soon, his chasing her became his only comfort. It distracted him from thoughts of being lost. Would chasing her take him back?

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Wolf sat up straighter against the tub as some of her taunts replayed in his head.

‘Come on, Wolf.’

‘That’s not the fastest you can go, right?’

He squeezed his eyes shut while rubbing his brow. It’s like you actually wanted me to catch you.

He shook his head and rose to sit on the lip of the tub. “Ugh, none of this makes sense,” he groaned, pulling on his ears. She’s never said anything about her personal life, so why did she suddenly give up a detail about a frail grandmother? I thought she’d only confide in me once I caught her. Wasn’t that the deal?

Wolf thought back to knocking on the grandmother’s front door, then pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood. Her grandmother didn’t make sense either. Why did she laugh when I said I was Little Red? Why did she act surprised to have a visitor? And why did she open the door if she knew I wasn’t Little Red?

Wolf scowled. The unanswered questions continued to mound up around him, and a growl arose unbidden.

He shot to his feet but grabbed the nearby vanity as his foot almost came out from under him. I’ll show the little brat.

Wolf’s frustration propelled him into the adjoining room. Wood paneled walls enclosed the space and the smell of antique furniture intermingled with the blood. He snatched some clothes off the quilt-laden bed in the center of the room. Sleeping pants went on first but came back off immediately when he discovered the waistband pinning his tail.

Wolf threaded his head into a gown but paused as he was slipping his arm into a sleeve.

The discolored ceiling caught his attention; its speckled white spattered with red. That was some crazy high blood pressure. She probably should have been on medication for that.

Wolf shook his head, dislodging the thoughts as the gown fell down around him. He glanced over his shoulder to find his tail causing the back to ride up. Eh, close enough.

As he pulled a sleeping cap on, pinning both of his ears down, he noticed a peculiar shape on the wall by the door. He toggled it, starting as the overhead light came on. His gaze shifted back to the floor and his eyes went wide. Gouts of blood drenched the wooden floorboards and walls while bloody handprints covered the bathroom’s door frame.

“Holy shit!” he bellowed. “I can’t hide all of this before she gets here.” He looked into the hall outside the bedroom, then to the living room beyond to find more light switches. All the curtains were drawn back, allowing in natural daylight, so all the switches were off.

“Okay, there’s gotta be a way to keep these things off.”

A search began that spanned the next few hours, morning becoming afternoon. Wolf finally discovered a small box behind a laundry room door that let him kill the power. What the hell will they come up with next? he wondered as he toggled all breakers.

Wolf’s ear twitched, and he turned to look over his shoulder. He heard footsteps, but more than that, he heard laces striking the tops of boots with each step and fluid sloshing within closed containers.

“Shit!” he blurted, looking back across the living room. “It’s too soon!”

He jerked the curtains closed over the main window and fled back to the bedroom. His feet stuck to the floor as he crossed the drying blood. He looked down, his nose scrunching. But the crunching sound of gravel jolted his focus back on task. He burst through the bathroom door, his foot skidding on the linoleum as he almost fell again.

The bathroom was blanketed with shadow, but he knew what horrors awaited anyone that could illuminate it. “I can’t let her come in here,” he mumbled.

Wolf pulled the door closed, so frantic that the knob came off in his hand. His mind went blank as he looked at the knob, then darted around the room. The bedroom curtains—they were still open. He dropped the knob and kicked it under the bed before rushing to yank the curtains closed.

Only a slender column of light remained, which was cast across the foot of the bed. His eyes were unfocused as he rushed back around it. He tripped on some shredded clothing, then reached.

No handhold.

His hand brushed the bathroom door frame, tearing away the molding as he barreled forward and slammed his foot into the nightstand.

Wolf howled, immediately biting down on his thumb as he reached towards his injury in a hop. He fought the molding free and tossed it across the room as he heard a knock on the front door. His fight-or-flight down shifted into freeze as the front door screeched open, its sound a roar against the cabin’s stillness.

He heard a light switch toggling in the living room and his mood soured, memories reemerging about how vexing she was.

‘That’s not the fastest you can go, right?’

His injury forgotten, he grit his teeth, crawled under the covers, and pulled the hat up from pinning his ears.

“Oh, Grandma?” Little Red called.