Joe Peters and H.J. Savannah
Red was the only one who could get through the forest safely. Without Red’s guidance, you never got out of the forest- at least, not all of you and definitely not alive. Sometimes a foot or a portion of a leg would be recovered- with Red’s assistance- but nothing more. So naturally, when a stranger came to town and wanted to know how to get through the forest, he was directed to Red.
Red was a young woman known for her red cloak and skills with dogs, in addition to her sole ability to guarantee safety in the woods. She was bandaging a nasty new gash on her arm as the man sauntered over to the stump she occupied. An enormous dog towered over her, watching the stranger with a human-like intensity. She muttered something to the dog, pleased to see that she had a customer. She did not charge the poor people of the village who needed to get through the forest, but this man had plenty of money. She could smell the metal of the coins on him. He was wearing a nice thick, fur cloak, which could not hide his belly rounded with the fullness of many lavish meals. His boots were highly polished. She could see the still-shiny tops, though they had been through an ordeal of mud recently. This man was an aristocrat and he would pay for the trouble.
She eyed him carefully for a moment, realized who he was, then named her price. “That’s ridiculous!” The man scoffed. “No one could afford that!” The dog made a low growling noise, and forced his way between Red and the man, baring his fangs.
Red smiled in a crooked way, baring her teeth like the beast before her. “On the contrary, based on your cloak and the jingle in your pocket, you can afford that. Not to mention, if you want to find your way through alive- you have to pay it, little lamb.” Her mouth twisted into a smile of sorts. She got up from her stump and continued to wrap her arm and hand in clean bandages and walked away towards the inn.
Red had just ordered a drink from the woman behind the counter when the man barged through the door and yelled, “I’m not done with you!” Red took several large gulps of her drink, ignoring him. She did not have the patience to deal with his ego. “How dare you try to threaten me into your services!” The inn was still, except for Red, who kept drinking as if he did not exist. “Do you even know who I am? I could buy and sell this town like it was nothing.”
Still, she ignored him. A vein at his temple throbbed and he went scarlet. “Hey, bitch!” He went to hit her. Red stood and snatched his arm as he swung. She stepped and forced his arm into a bar behind his back. Red snatched a fistful of his hair and slammed his face into the bar. He saw stars for a moment. She put pressure on his barred elbow, trying to bend it in the wrong direction. The dog stuck its muzzle in the man’s face and opened it’s huge mouth. The dog’s teeth were enormous, glistening, and far too close. The dog looked as if he meant to swallow the man whole.
After a moment that felt like forever, Red let him go. He stood, face reddened and hurriedly straightened his hair and clothes. “Fine! The little girl can walk me through the woods, but if so much as a hair on my head gets misplaced- this town is over with!” The stranger wore a smug grin at the looks of concern and dismay on the faces of thoses in the inn.
Red crossed her arms and stared the man down until her lips quirked into a smirk. She smacked him hard on the back, knocking the breath out of him. “‘Bout time you got some sense in that head, little lamb. We leave at dusk.” She started to leave. Over her shoulder she added, “one more nasty word, and I’ll feed you to the wolves.” The people in the inn gasped and spoke their horror in hushed tones.
Red met the man at the edge of the woods as the last rays of the sun died on the horizon. She had that damned dog with her. The light of Red’s lantern flickered off the dog's eyes, but the light did not seem to warm the cold gray. The dog sat rigid at the base of the blood red cloak of it’s master and stared down the stranger. Those steely gray eyes froze his heart and sent chills down his spine. He resented the creature even more for making him forget who he was for even a moment.
It was quiet for a long time as they walked through the woods. The stranger walked behind Red, staying within the circle of light his lantern produced. He watched the swaying of her hips. Even through the veil of the cloak, he could tell she had a nice, though athletic, build. Normally, he would have seduced her with his charms and the promise of deep pockets, to get out of actually paying her. Then he would probably have her killed or imprisoned or whatever it took to keep her silent. It was hard to think about that with her giant dog breathing down his neck. Red whistled a single note softly and her dog wove in and out of the trees that towered along the sides of the path, as easily as if he were made of moonlight.
The stranger felt as if they had been walking for an eternity. He was sure they passed that tree before. He remembered the face-like knobs in it. Enraged, he reached for Red’s cloak, but he heard a growl and stopped. “Our journey will not be much longer, sir.” Her voice was soft, as if far off. “I promise,” she whispered like a ghost in the wind. She whistled and two dogs rushed to her, one on each side. She regarded them with a gentle pat on their giant heads. When they raised their heads to accept her greeting, their ears were nearly to her shoulder. Near her, they seemed at ease and gentle. They turned to look at him and bared their dagger-like fangs noiselessly. He grimaced at them. Mutts, he thought, mutants.
They wandered along a weaving, winding path. They passed the tree with the face-like knobs again. “I could have navigated this trail myself. Why am I paying you?” He finally snapped. “Anyone could have told me to take the trail. You’re not getting anything for this.”
Red stopped suddenly. She whispered with an icy edge, “You are going to be a part of a real treat tonight.” She turned and dropped her cloak. Her eyes were that frozen gray of her dogs. She had large wolf ears sticking up on high-alert. Her long black locks were replaced with thick fur and she had an open muzzle, complete with enormous fangs. The stranger trembled, teeth chattering.
“Little lamb, you were never going to make it through these woods. Your journey ends here.” She snapped her jaws playfully. He yelped in fear and stumbled back a few feet. “To think you wanted to be treated like royalty,” she spat the last word at him. “Oh, yes, I know you, my lord,” she snarled. She was mocking him. Taunting him. “The fallen lord, running for his life because he let his subjects starve as he had lavish feasts, food made by the labor of his people. They want to put your head on a silver platter. They want to feast at your table over your dead body.” He gulped. “We will be the ones to feast. Now, run. Run little lamb. Here come the wolves.” Then, she threw back her wolf head, howled, and fell down onto four enormous paws to smile a snarl at him.
He could already hear them coming. He knew he couldn’t outrun them, but his body damned him to try. He ran wildly through the woods, his heart hammered harder than ever before. Forward, forward. He had no idea which direction to go in but forward. He ran for all he was worth.
There were blinding hot slashes of teeth and fangs as they tore into his arms and legs. Not deep enough to stop him from running, but enough for him to feel the screaming, tearing pain. It made flashes of white and red tinge his already limited vision in the pitch night. They kept tearing into him and disappearing with his blood on their paws and muzzles. Why didn’t they kill him already? If they wanted him dead, they could have done it already.
He ran forward, fearing the unusual nature of these wolves. The wolves leapt from the darkness and trees to make him bleed, to hear his heart scream for its life. They were enjoying it. All he could do was give them what they wanted. Forward, forward he went, leaving a red trail behind him.
He ran until he thought his lungs would collapse, then he ran more. Forward, forward, he pushed. He passed the tree with the face-like knot. He must be running in circles, though he was sure he was going straight. There was no time to adjust course, he just had to keep going. He ran and knew his efforts were in vain, but he had to run.
A short wolf’s bark pierced the night. A large black wolf leapt out of the woods to chase directly behind him. Red. In only a moment, in only a footfall, in only a breath, she caught up to him and sunk her knife-like teeth into his leg and ripped.
The man collapsed and knew this was it. The wolves circled him, becoming a flurry of fur and fangs. As they growled, the noise became the growls of his subjects, as their stomachs twisted with hunger. Their cries became the cries of starving babies and of mothers who could do nothing but hold their children as they died in their thin arms, huddled into hollowed chests. Their cries became the cries of the barely living, begging to waste away and join their dead loved ones or to have the strength to live long enough to have their revenge. Their howls became the rage of those who buried the family who need not have died, of those who would suffer no more. They became monsters themselves. They became justice.
The lord screamed and begged for his life. What are a few tears to those who had everything beaten and stolen from them? What are cries for mercy to a pack of wolves?
The claws and teeth came, slowly at first, but their urgency grew with his screams. They slashed and bit deeper, harder. They were careful not to make a fatal strike. His limbs were covered in blood and horrible gashes until he was barely recognizable as human. The man nearly lost consciousness. It would end soon, while he was awake and knew it was coming. His people had known their deaths were coming, after all.
Red had the honor to kill him, as alpha. The others obeyed and circled around them, though they each longed to personally make the lord pay the ultimate price for his greed, as they had.
The smell of his blood was intoxicating; it was in the trees, their muzzles and fur, his crumpled form, and the dirt all around them. They could taste it and they salivated for more. His blood was sweet with revenge and fine meals.
Red the wolf stopped in front of him and put her wide jaws around his throat. The pack howled and quieted. Red tore. The absolute silence came for only a moment.
Then, they ate.
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