SFSD-X Short Story Smackdown

4.4 Riding Hood

The dogs were out and adoring me again as I crept through the dark streets with my new side-kick. We had our hoods up and faces partly covered, but anyone who saw us would have known we were on our way to do some dangerous business. At 2 am in this town, there was no other sort of business going on.

We reached the corner of Main Street and hid in the shadows of building number twenty-two on the far side from our destination. On the other side of this building was my most hated enemy's lair. Tonight his world would crumble to the ground.

"I might need more than two minutes. I've never done anything that size before, and it looks very solid," I said. "You are sure he's still in there?"

"I was taken to what looked like his living room. Pretty sure the dude lives in there. As for the cameras, I should be able to give you as long as you need, but no guarantees for the guards. After I scramble the images, we'll distract them and get you in place, but if they go out and walk around they'll see you."

"If they ever did rounds, I would have noticed this building already. The only way he's kept his factory hidden in the open like this is because it looks and runs exactly like an insurance building."

"Give me a second." He opened his computer case and set up his wi-fi scrambler. He punched some keys and generally appeared geeky. I was fairly certain most of it was for show. "Are you positive you want to do this? You could get killed and not in a nice way, you know."

"Before this guy came, my life was complicated, but at least I was happy. My mom and dad might have made me strange and ensured I would never have any normality, but they loved me and took care of me. They told me there was nothing out there, nothing to fear. But the night my parents were murdered I caught a glimpse of something. I've looked for it ever since. I went around the world, searched in all the shadows. And there is something out there in the darkness, something terrifying, something that will not stop until it gets revenge. Me. So I came back to this town to stay with my grandmother. I won't stop until that man pays for what he's taken."

"Okay. All cameras except for the ones pointed to the front are on a loop. Create your distraction."

I whistled low. A couple of dogs perked their ears and trotted closer. As soon as they were near, I pulled a raw steak from its plastic wrap and tossed it in the street. Dogs converged from every shadow, barking and fighting for some of the bloody goodness.

This was my distraction. Not fancy, but believable. All eyes would be on the dog pile. I ran around towards the back, and checked the alley for guards. Nothing. If they were looking out it would be towards the four lane street in the front. Anyone watching the cameras would see the previous five minutes at the sides and back of the building or the dogs out front. I tiptoed across the alley and ducked down behind a dumpster. I put my hands on the wall and sent my mind inside to find the metal frame.

A heavy hand came down on my shoulder. A gun against my temple warned me not to fight.

"I know you're dying to see the SnowBlower and tonight, your wish comes true," whispered Mr. Frosty.

Knowing it would be pointless to struggle, I went quietly while he marched me inside and up to the top floor. The SnowBlower's apartment was a standard mix of shiny chrome, black velvet and tacky animal skins. Except for the large plastic cage in the middle of his living room, he could have been expecting regular company.

He raised his whiskey glass as I walked in. "I had the strongest feeling I would be meeting you tonight, my girl! Is it true you are only fifteen years old? You only look fourteen. Take after your dad, don't you? He was an ugly son of a bitch."

"SnowBlower, you're gonna suffer for what you've done. And I plan on being a very big part of that."

"Not tonight, sweetheart. Throw her in the cage."

Mr. Frosty shoved me in the plastic cage. I slumped my shoulders, the picture of defeat.

Sticks waltzed in, green hood dangling from his fingertips. "Anyone got a light?" he asked.

The SnowBlower tossed him a zippo. Sticks held his knitted hood and wrap over the tiny flame, snickering. When nothing much happened except the stench of burned hair and the ends getting charred, he threw the hood on the floor in disgust.

"Merino wool, squidbrain. Basically nonflammable," I said.

"How about you if I douse you in gasoline? Do your powers protect you from going up in flames?" he asked.

"If only my powers protected me from being around your idiocy," I said.

He reached over to take the gun from the SnowBlower's desk. Seeing them together, I recognized the family resemblance. Father and son, or uncle and nephew? Family in any case. They would both have to go along with Mr. Frosty.

"How about I shoot at you and not miss?" he asked.

"Wait," I said, lifting a hand.

"No, Sticks, I have something else in mind for this one," the SnowBlower said. "An avalanche. Just like with her parents. Slow and painful." He took a plastic baggie from a desk drawer and set it with a plop on the table.

"So that's how they went – overdose on your cheap, fluffy trash."

"That's how they went, crying and begging."

Now I was mad. From several floors below, the faint calls of dogs barking and howling drifted into the room. The SnowBlower opened the baggie and stirred the glassy contents with a wooden spoon. His two dogs began circling the room, whining and yipping nervously.

"Ah yes, the Little Redneck Riding Hood has a sort of dog connection. Well, your hounds can't get in here and my men will take care of them." He scooped out a spoonful of shards and put them in a wooden bowl. I watched as he poured in a bit of vinegar to melt it all. "And after I get this down your scrawny neck, you won't have a connection with anything ever again except for your own agony."

Men started screaming in the hallway outside the door. Someone pounded on it to come in and escape, but it must have locked automatically after Sticks walked in.

"Sir?" Mr. Frosty asked nervously.

"Better make them stop, Little Red!" the SnowBlower yelled.

"Or else what? Torture, pain, blah, blah, blah? Get on with it."

"Call off your dogs, Red!" Sticks said. He pointed the gun at my stomach.

The two dogs inside barked and circled, going crazy. Dogs outside scratched the door and howled.

Sticks fired. I doubled over, hitting the floor with my ass. He laughed and jumped up and down. "Bet that stings, don't it?"

I rubbed at the wound a moment, coughing and then reached out to him. My hand was bloody, but also full of rusty goop. "Don't get me wrong, it does hurt when they hit."

"What the...? Did you rust the bullet? How did you do that?"

"I'm Little Redneck Riding Hood. I rust metal for breakfast."

"Then you'll die slowly of tetanus!" Sticks said. He fired two more shots. I was glad to note he missed my face.

"I'm immune to tetanus, tape worms, food poisoning and dental interventions. And yes, I can rust the bullets as soon as they hit me."

He held the gun up to fire again, this time at my head. One of the wolf-dogs jumped him. The SnowBlower yelled as his other dog attacked Mr. Frosty. By then the side of the cage was sufficiently bullet-hole damaged so I kicked it in half and went to open the door for my pack. The screams of my enemies filled my ears as I walked away down the stairs and then out the building.

I called my grandmother. "It's done, Granny. The snow on the streets will melt away like it's a sunny day in spring starting tomorrow." I paused, breathing deeply. "Get your baskets of goodies together, we are back in the family business."

After my departed parents, who were of course the previous drug lords, Granny mixed the best goodies anyone had ever tried. I let out an evil laugh just for the fun of it. This town was now mine.

**** The End! Muahahahaha! Hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! ****