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The Big Bad Wolf

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Prologue

The hunter was running out of time, he not knew the direction in which the foul-stenched beast went. The hunter was fast, but the beast was faster. The hunter was sly, but the beast was more so. Dumbfounded, the hunter left on his way, with no animal to hang from his back, no beast to claim his reward for protecting the small village.

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In the small village yonder the river, there one was a young girl, beautiful and adorned with natural jewels of deep crimsion. Upon her golden hair, she wore a velvet cap, which matched her so gracefully, that everyone began to call her "Little Red Cap". As instructed by her mother, she departed her home with wine and sweets in her gown for her grandmother. "Do not stray from the path, little red cap," said her mother, "you must get this food and wine to your grandmother before dusk. Now hurry along!" At that, the young little red cap went on her way down the windy, narrow path to her elderly grandmother's house. As she came upon a fork in the road, there lay a rock inbetween the two paths.

Upon the rock, sat a wolf, nonchalantly picking at his disgusting, sharp teeth. "Hello there, young red cap! To where are you going?" asked the wolf. The little girl wrung her hands together in nervousness. She decided the wolf was not to be trusted, but he was not being obnoxious or angry. "I am heading to grandmother's house, by the old oak tree, surely you know where that is?" "Why of course I do, that house is gorgeous! I know of a slight shortcut as well!"

The girl pondered her options. It was getting late, maybe a shortcut would help with time. "To where is this shortcut?" asked the girl. "Why, when you come to this fork in the road, take the path to the right!" The girl glanced in the direction in which the wolf was pointing. She gathered her memory to see if she had ever taken this way to her grandmother's before. "Alright," she said, "I will take this path. Thank you for the help, kind wolf, have a loveley afternoon."

The girl skipped off, while the wolf continued to perck on the rock for just a minute longer before pouncing into the forest, making swift to the grandmother's home. His eyes watered and his mouth dried from the fast pace and the delicious idea of his teeth crunching the small child's bones and drinking her wine until he became merry.

He entered the home as quietly as he could, though he knew the old woman was blind and deaf. He could not risk the girl spotting or hearing him. The wolf quickly cleaned his mess for the child to enter.

"Grandmother? It is I, little red cap! May I come in?" From inside the home she heard coughing, taking in that her grandmother was not doing so well. "Come in, my sweet child, in! There is supper for you on the table, and wine!" The girl sat in the chair before her supper, picked up the knife and fork and began to cut at the meat. She took a bite into her mouth. "This is good," she thought, "I wonder who helped her make this?" Suddenly, a cat walked across the floor. "That is not normal meat," said the feline, "that is your grandmother's flesh!" The girl gasped. "Grandmother! The cat told me I was eating your flesh!" "Oh thay rotten old cat has lost his mind, sho him away!" The girl looked for the cat be had vanished. She shrugged. "Maybe the cat was mad?" she thought. She continued to eat her meat and became parched. She took a sip from the deep red wine in front of her. A crow flew up to the window. "That is no ordinary wine, that is your grandmother's blood!" The girl gasped at the information yet again. Grandmother! This crow says I'm drinking your blood!" "Poppycock!" said the grandmother, "That old crow lost his mind years ago! Sho him away!" The girl turned to the window but found that he too, had vanished. She finished her meal in silence.

After she had finished her meal she was exhausted after walking all day. "Here is a gown for you dearest." said the grandmother. The girl took the gown gratefully, changed, and laid down in the bed. She fell asleep quickly, with her grandmother watching from the dark doorway.

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