Short Horror Stories

Little Red Riding Hood

It was dark and gloomy in the forest. But I skipped along the path gleefully, thinking about my kind grandmother. I was holding a basket full of treats for her. I was impatient to reach her cottage and give the treats to her. I wanted to see her happy face.

I gripped my basket more tightly as a shadow past by the trees near me. My golden pigtails swayed to and fro.

I glanced around, still skipping. I saw the same shadow sped past the trees behind me. I became more cautious. The rustling of the leaves filled my ears and I saw the shadow once more peeked at me and sped by. It's eyes were blood red. It was the Big Bad Wolf.

Suddenly it leaped on me. But I was ready. I ripped my basket open and grabbed the knife hidden there. I threw the basket away and the treats spilled out. Who cares about the treats?

I plunged the knife into his opened wide mouth and it dropped to the ground and howled in pain. I stabbed him multiple times in the limbs and tore one off. But he still got up and clawed me.

It ripped the flesh of my left hand opened and it bit my left elbow. I clutched my hands into fists, trying to bear the pain, which was unbearable.

Screaming - half in anger, half in pain - I thrusted the knife to it's chest and it fall down, twitching.

I panted and tried to steady my breathing.

My face was covered in blood - some of his and some of mine - it felt sticky and smelled kind of strange. Tears trickled down my cheek as I realized what I had done. I killed a wolf!

I know it hurts villagers but I was not supposed to kill it. My mother said that it hurts people who hurts them. I hurt him, though he never hurt me.

I noticed that his stomach was bulging. I gripped my knife harder and slitted open his stomach. Out came a half devoured body and a yellow cloth drenched in blood. With teary eyes, I pulled out my locket, which had my grandma's picture on it.

I cried and cried.

Then I pulled the yellow blood stained cloth and stretched it out in front of me. The blood quickly turned the yellow parts red. I slipped it above my head and wore it as my hoodie. Then I looked at the half devoured body and decided to bring it home with me.

I dragged the body home, leaving a trail of fresh blood.

That's how I got the name Little Red Riding Hood.

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