Red Riding Hood

Red Riding Hood

Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy

Chapter1 (v.1) - Death is Beautiful

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: August 04, 2017

Reads: 384

Comments: 3

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: August 04, 2017

A A A

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The air felt crisp and cool, almost as if a thousand needles were whipping past her face, but she didn’t mind it, it was home.

As she wandered through the forests she could hear the sound of robins; nesting in the trees in attempt to hurdle past the cold, the sound of snow crunching underneath her boots that were lined with fur to keep her feet warm, her red cape was the only colour in this winter wonderland; wondrous it may have seemed but deadly for the weary traveller in the middle of the night, with nothing to sleep with but the cold that would make you doze, but never wake.

One had to know the path through the forest to never get lost, a path which Red had taken since she was a mere baby, her mother would carry her and teach her everything about the forest; which berries were poisonous and which would give you the most realistic hallucinations you had ever experienced, in short Red knew the path and had no trouble with spotting danger from saviour. And if she ever got lost she would know how to sustain herself until she found a way to return back to the village.

In her hand was a woven basket, made from woven twigs of the cherry trees that would blossom in the summer, and in it was a variety of vegetables, jams and pastries for her grandmother, they were things her grandmother was unable to make with the resources she had where she lived. Her grandmother lived a life outside of the village, Red never understood why but her grandma seemed to enjoy living a life of solitude, but she was especially happy whenever Red decided to visit her.

Her grandmother’s house was on stilts to stop ice from crawling up and enveloping the house, the roof dusted with snow that reminded Red of the icing sugar her mother sprinkled as the finishing touch on the cakes she made. Bright orange light glowed behind the tinted windows, you couldn’t see it now but an array of wild flowers would blossom in the warmer months of the year, wildflowers that Red’s grandmother would braid into her hair so it was almost like a crown.

Climbing up the steps of her Grandmother’s house Red knocked on the door twice before letting herself in, being immediately greeted by warmth from the fire place that melted all the chills within her body.

“Grandma, it’s me Red.” She called, waiting for a reply.

“Oh Red, dear me please come, I need your help, bring my lavender essence too please.” Her grandmother called, doing as she was told Red placed the basket near the fireplace and found the lavender essence in her Grandmother’s cabinet of different essence’s and herbs.

Red ran towards the sound of her Grandmother’s voice, her copper ringlets bouncing as she did so.

Red was met with the sight of her Grandmother kneeling next to the bed of the spare bedroom. The room was dimly light, only a few candles dripping with wax were seen, the curtains pulled shut and wooden floors gleaming in the low lights.

Her grandmother, whose skin was as white as the snow in the middle of winter, her once black curls had gone grey with age but there was a time when Red could remember the colour; like treacle, she thought to herself. Her grandmother’s eyes were a dull grey like the river and her skin soft with age, her grandmother was a small woman but could literally pack a punch or two.

“Red, my dear thank you, now give it to me.” Her grandmother said while waving her hands. Red walked up to her grandmother and handed her the bottle of lavender. As Red neared closer to the bed she saw that it wasn’t quite empty.

In the bed was a boy, no older than Red herself. With loose blonde curls that reached his shoulders, it looked like the finest silk and Red had to fight the urge to not run her fingers through it. His skin golden like the wheat they would harvest in the middle of spring and his eyes were a bright green that couldn’t be compared to anything she had ever seen.

He lay on the bed, his chest bare and his leather pants riding low at his hips, sweat glistened on his naked skin, he was slender and his face was sharp; with angular high cheekbones, a defined jaw and full lips that quivered with every breath.

“Where did you find him?” Red asked, her grandmother had a damp cloth in hand and patted the boy’s forehead in an attempt to cool him down, Red though that this was extremely different because in the middle of winter the only thing that people did was try to get warmer, not the other way round.

“I didn’t find him my dear, he barged into my house, banging fists against the door and when he came in he practically collapsed. His back has multiple scratches and wounds on them but I’ve already taken care of those with some “”, but the best thing he needs now is rest, rest and to get his fever down.” She said as she began to smear some lavender above his lip so he inhaled it, a natural sedative which would help Red when she couldn’t sleep.

“Why is his back cut?” Red asked, unable to hold back the growing number of questions in her head.

“I don’t know, he keeps whispering wolf but I don’t know if he is just under shock or if he is actually telling the truth, I’ll need to ask him once he’s fully recovered.” Her grandmother said while wiping away more sweat from the boy’s brow, he just murmured again and tried to move away from her touch.

“Red dear, may you please look after him for a moment, your poor old granny is feeling run down and needs a rest.” Grandmother whispered, Red could now see the blue shadows underneath her eyes and the puffiness of them.

“Yes Grandmother.”

“Good girl, thank you.” Her grandmother replied before kissing Red’s forehead and walking away, her dress sweeping around her feet as she left.

Red crawled closer towards the boy and moved the sweat drenched hair away from his face, the boy’s face turned towards her and slowly he began to speak.

“W-w-ater, p-please.” He barely managed to whisper, his voice raspy and his lips dry and beginning to crack.

Red dipped the cloth back into the bucket of water next to her and gently squeezed it into the boy’s mouth, watching him as he greedily drank every last drop until the cloth had been sucked dry.

“Thank you, my angel.” He said, his voice although still a whisper and hoarse, was not quite as throaty or stuttering. He groaned and tried to get up but Red gently pushed him back down, desperately trying not to gasp at the warmth of his skin or the softness of it.

“Shh, lie down, you can’t get up yet, you need to rest, you’re safe now.” She cooed at him, he sighed and interlaced his fingers with hers and rested their joined palms over his racing heart.

“My angel, why do you visit me now when I’m not dead yet, I’m not going to give up on life.” He breathed, Red’s breath hitched as she said ‘angel’, either he thought she was beautiful or that she was dying, at this point in time Red had to believe the second option.

“You’re not dying boy, and I am no angel, I’m as real as I can be and I stand before you in life and body.” She said, too afraid to separate their fingers from their still joined hands.

“Of course you are an angel, you’re my angel. You’ve been watching and protecting me, but I need to tell you now that I am not ready to go and face God, please let me survive and stay here on Earth, I have so many things to do and experience that I have not even begun yet.” He murmured, his other hand began to curiously tug on her curls. Red just shook her head.

“You need to rest.” Was all she said, he gently nodded his head but didn’t close his eyes, he just kept staring at her.

“I never imagined that death could look so beautiful.” He uttered under his breath before slipping away into sleep, his hand falling from her face but still had a deadly grip on their interlaced fingers.


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