Little Red

The bark stabbed into her skin, making her palms and knees bleed. She couldn’t help the tears that spilled over her lashes, as she stared down at the ground several feet below her.

The wolves circled the tree, putting their muzzles in the air to sniff her out.

The sap from the tree must be blocking my scent, Oznap thought. She hugged the branch, praying to whatever god there was that they would leave soon.

The wolves through up their heads simultaneously, startling her. She almost fell, but dug her nails into the bark as tightly as she could. The howled into the night, and then sped off into the shade of the woods.

There wasn’t any point in heading back to camp. It was probably infested with wolves. But Oznap’s stomach growled.

“Red, please be okay.” She whispered so lowly, only in dead silence would something have heard it. A tear escaped her eye, but she wiped at it furiously, refusing to let anyone, including herself, see her like this. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. It wasn’t worth the effort.

Steadying herself, she began to crawl lower, down toward where the trunk reached out to create branches. The tree was awfully thick there, and Oznap thought it could be thick enough to sleep on. Only a wolf with very good jumping legs could get to it, and she doubted that they would show up again.

Oznap brought her knees to her chest, and pulled her arms into her chest. It was so cold. Very, very cold.

Her cheek against the horrid bark, she slept with dreams of ripping claws and snapping teeth.



Him. This boy only a couple of years older than her was defeating her. He had defeated her. But how? Why did he seem so much stronger and definitely faster than her? She had defeated a wolf before, but only once. That wolf had been huge. Bigger than this one. There had been a dry time, a famine that affected both the wolves and the village. It was late at night, and she was going home from late training. She remembered her stomach growling—no, it was yowling. But there wasn’t much she could do. Even if she did find some food, she would have given it to someone who really needed it, like the rawboned children, the sickly mothers, the feeble fathers, and the wise but broken elders.

A slayer’s job isn’t just to slay. It’s to provide. To protect. And to do it in any way you can.

But on that night, she was passing the many cottages outside the town square, where all the empty shops lay. Many houses windows were dimmed. The night was overall peaceful. Crickets chirping in the grass, the moon reaching its peak in the sky. The wind blew warm air, not like it had when the sun had been out. The wind then had been hot and oppressive. She hated it. It was at that time when she really wanted to throw off her bright red hood, but she would never. Her secret would be revealed, and even if she didn’t have the secret, she was never seen without it, so she wasn’t going to break that record now.

Screams. At that moment, bloodcurdling screams filled her ears. Her feet froze to the ground for a moment, clutching her blade from the practice arena, too shocked to move. She thought for a moment.

Someone had needed her. That moment right there, as she stood there, frozen, she realized that someone needed her. The feeling pumped adrenaline throughout her body, goosebumps rising on her pale skin. This feeling was the most immense, exciting feeling she had ever gotten.

Red ran. At first, she wasn’t sure where, until she realized her feet were carrying her to the sound. It was a cottage up ahead, one bigger than her own. It was a strange cottage, a sickly green color. She had seen this color before, on her father when he was sick with a horrid flu.

Another scream filled her ears. Her hand twitched, and she had to refrain herself from knocking. She had never done anything like this before, and she wasn’t used to it. How could she be? She had chopped heads off fabric dummies, popped dummies just by kicking them, and watched the tiny white feathers fall from the ceiling, grazing her skin softly. Nothing like this.

Red rammed her shoulder into the door, and it shook, but didn’t fall. She tried again, and again, and then, finally, it collapsed. Her shoulder was crying in pain, but she barged in and looked around. Her nose was immediately met with smoke, and her eyes stung. There was a fire, and it seemed to be growing.

Water streamed from her eyes from the smoke as she peered through the gray smoke and red flames. There, in the middle of the room, she saw a pelt of gray fur, shimmering in the flames. It jerked around, staring at her with cold, black eyes. It snarled, pearly white teeth hanging from its pink gums. It turned fully to her and swiped its large paw at her, claws extended, and she barely dodged it.

Red took action. She moved swiftly, swiping at it with her short blade. Twirling and spinning and dodging and lunging…she confused the poor creature with her cleverness and speed.

Finally, at one point, it got the best of her and swung a powerful paw at her stomach. She flew back, her back hitting the wood wall. She could hear it crack in her ears. The other sound she heard was her blood pounding in her ears.

Weakness. She had never felt so weak. Her body ached, and her mind spun, and her limbs wanted to go limp right under her. Her eyebrow was bleeding and her stomach was sore, her heart pounding and her fingers twitching. Her whole body shook as she tried to stand.

The wolf made a sound in his throat, something like a laugh.

She had never felt so humiliated. The enemy was laughing at her stupidity.

Idiotic girl, taking on predators ten times her size. She will make a great dinner to take home to the clan.

Red raised her head so fast she heard her neck pop. No, it couldn’t be. Please, no. That voice. It was the wolf’s. She knew it instinctively. No one in her village owned that throaty, horrid voice.

But how had she heard what was unspoken?

She stood up, pain edging into her back from the wood splinters.

She remembered her mother. Flowing night black hair, shining emerald green eyes, and a nimble, but strong body.

She was praised for strength.

Red ran, screaming in anger. No one, human or wolf, would disgrace her like that. No one would disgrace her family like that.

She was also praised for her agility.

The wolf snarled, almost happy that his prey was running right into his jaws. Red lunged forward, landing on her hands on the wood floor. She balanced herself, and pushed herself upward. Her smallish body flew into the air, and she twisted in mid-air. She was looming above the wolf in the air for a split second, and then, she came down on his back.

She was known for her power.

And she brought the blade into his neck with all the force she could muster. The wolf howled, again and again until her ears were screaming for mercy. She brought up the blade and jabbed the pelt of gray fur again, a little higher than the first one.

The wolf whimpered and fell limp, Red still atop it.

She remembered a little girl. This little girl had bright blonde hair in a messy bun at the back of her head, and top lip with a large cupids bow. Her lips were big, and pink, the kind of lips Red wanted to have, but she was born with her father’s thin lips. The girl’s dark eyes were speckled with gold.

The little girl was cowering in the corner of the room, her mother hanging over her shoulder. Tears cleaned trails on their dusty faces, the debris from the fire floating around their faces.

Red ran to them. “C’mon. Get up,” she urged. “We have to get out of here.”

The woman began to cry harder, and she looked downward. Why doesn’t she understand that they would burn alive if they didn’t get out?

She jerked around, looking over the wolf’s carcass and toward the door. Smoke filed out, and the fire roared, ready to leap out the doorway.

She turned back around. Without thinking another second, she gripped the small girl’s arm and threw her over her shoulder.

“No!” She cried. “Please, my mommy—she…she’s hurt! She can’t move her foot, please don’t leave her. No, don’t leave her!” Uncontrollable sobs passed the little girl’s lips, and she slammed her tiny fists against Red’s back.

Red stopped to think for only a second, looking down at the woman. She could now see her hand covering a wound over her ankle. Blood spilled past her fingers, slipping to the floor and absorbing into the wood.

She dropped the little girl onto the floor delicately. She kept crying. Harder and harder she went.

Red finally began to move. She picked up the woman, who had already lost weight from the famine, and pulled her onto her back. The woman laid her head under her neck, falling into a coughing fit.

Then, she grabbed the little girl by the waist and carried them both out of the fire. They all lived, though the woman had to go on with life with a limp in her ankle.

Red had forgotten the little girl’s name as time went by.



Red blinked open her eyes.

I’m alive?

She was, partially, but her body was stiff, and with every move, her neck stung as if a nest of bees had sat themselves there to create a bloody nest.

It’s so warm.

Red could smell fire, and could hear it cackling beside her. With all that she could, she turned her head, and was blinded by the bright orange light. She squinted and took a moment to regain her blurry vision.

A rusty pot was boiling above a spit in a fireplace. It was built into the wall in an arch. She turned her attention to the wall. Lines ran across it, almost as if they had been painted there. It was like…whenever you cut down a tree, make a log, and cut the log in half. Those kinds of lines that weren’t perfectly aligned, exactly like the inside of a log…or a tree.

What is this place? Hardly anyone in the village can afford a fireplace.

She looked around, her body aching. Wherever she was, it was tiny. She was in a small bed—or a cot—with a white sheet draped over her body. There was a small counter by the fireplace, carved out of the wood on the wall. A cabinet above it, also carved out of the wood wall. The room was kind of dome-shaped, like the bottom half of an egg.

She heard shuffling. Someone was in there with her.

Red jerked forward, and pain shot up her spine and around her neck. She cringed, holding her neck, her eyes clenched.

“You shouldn’t move too much.”

Red opened her eyes, frozen. That voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

She looked up. A boy, maybe a few years older than her stood there, with silky locks of blood-red hair that curved slightly each end. He had eyes so dark; it was like they weren’t even there. Flecks of gold shone deeply in them, catching the light like a cat to a mouse. His skin—pale, and flawless, as if as he grew from birth, he had kept his baby-soft skin.

A wolf.

Just from the way he looked. Toned muscles shifting under-skin, the fierce eyes of a hunter that see everything that crossed its path, the flawlessness of his skin, the unnatural beauty it all made. They all spelled one word, and she knew that word all too well.

Red couldn’t figure out what question to ask first, so instead, she pulled the sheet off of her and reached for her weapon. Any of them. It didn’t matter which as long as she had one, and that was all she needed.

But it wasn’t there. None of them were there. The dagger strapped to her thigh, the bow on her shoulder, her belt with the short-sword…Everything. Even her armor was gone, the armor consisting of her knee-length overskirt and corset, leaving her short little red underdress, only reaching the top of her thigh.

She gasped and pulled the blanket back over her. He must have known she hid weapons all over her dress and inside her corset.

“You…” She steamed, almost unable to speak.

“Where’s my armor?” Red managed to interrogate fiercely. Out of all the questions swimming in her head, she felt this the right one.

“Hidden.” The wolf boy replied, smiling pearly whites. The only thing she could do was imagine them lengthened, sharper, with blood and meat seeping through the cracks. Red let out an aggravated sigh and looked away for a moment, but, when she looked back, he had turned away from her and began rummaging through the cabinet by the fireplace.

Red leaped from the bed, but stopped dead in her tracks. She put her hands on the wall, searching it. “Where’s the door?”

She jerked around, vibrant green eyes searching wildly, but a door with a shining metal doorknob was nowhere to be seen.

“Like your armor, it’s also hidden.”

Hidden?

Red, seething with anger, had never been more confused. The last thing she remembered was her body on the ground, blood seeping from her neck, with a wolf’s teeth breaking through her thin barrier of skin. Wolves were relentless, bloodthirsty, merciless beasts. Why wasn’t she finished off back in the wood?

She ran toward him, a short distance since the room was so tiny, and she brought down her fist toward his porcelain face.

Where is he?!

She was suddenly coming down on air, the boy with the baby-pale skin, night-dark eyes, and blood-red hair was gone.

Warm, soft hands grip her wrists, and for a moment she was confused as to where they came from. Her eyes catch a glimpse of the arms coming from behind her.

How did he get there?

A gasp escaped her lips as her arms were pulled behind her back. I didn’t know they still have their abilities even when they’re not in wolf form!

“I’d advise you to stay on the bed.” He whispered delicately in her ear, his hot breath brushing the side of her neck. Goosebumps crept up her pale arms.

Red jerked back, trying to get out of his grip, and he let go willingly, out of the way as she began to fall back. She fell on the bed, her wound stinging.

She sat up. He was glaring down at her, his eyes beautiful, but deadly and poisonous. Yes, that was the word. Poisonous.

“What do you want?”

He smiled sly, his lips curving into a delicate grin. She hated it. Him and the feeling dwelling at the pit of her stomach. This grief and guilt was beginning to eat her alive. She had driven herself, and Oznap, right into the cunning wolves’ paws. Now, Oznap could be in the middle of the wolves’ den, a pile of meat on the ground as each one of the hideous beast took a chunk out at her. And then, she had gotten herself captured by him. But where are the other wolves? Shouldn’t there be more?

“Will you answer me or not?!” Her throat seemed to sizzle, and she suddenly slumped, holding her collarbone, but that only seemed to worsen the pain.

His smile grew twice the size.

“No?” Red asked, as if asking if that were his final answer.

Still, not a word passed his plump, pink lips. He stared, his eyes unmoving. She would wish away the world just to get his eyes off her. She tugged the sheet some more, gripping it hard in her palm.

Red leaped from the bed once more, but before her feet even hit the floor, she was against the wall. The searing pain that sliced through her neck was almost unbearable. Her mouth opened to let out an agonized scream, but nothing came out of her gaping mouth. She slumped forward, now, hardly able to lift her limps. It wasn’t just her neck anymore, it was all her limbs. The air had escaped her lungs, and she was fighting to make it come back, choking and suffocating on air.

She could smell him from here. A clean, forest scent radiated off of his body and from his hair. She breathed in slowly so he wouldn’t notice. It was a good scent…

Red coughed as the boy smirked.

His arm under her neck, she sputtered, “Let…go.”

He obeyed.

He sat on the bed in front of her. Red coughed, wiping her lip from a spot of saliva that teetered on the edge.

“What…what’s your name?” Red had always learned to respect your opponents. When she was younger, and she was sent into the practice arena to battle the older kids, they were always introduced until the trainer whistled and the round started. Although, she was not sure why she felt the need to respect him. Maybe because he was clearly the more powerful opponent.

The boy grinned. “Kannon.”

Red opened her mouth to reply, but he beat her to it. “I refer to call you by what I’ve already nicknamed you.”

She didn’t hesitate in replying. “And that would be?”

He grinned more. “Little Red.”

Red’s breath caught in her throat.

She began to laugh, slowly at first, and then louder. She couldn’t contain it anymore. After a few seconds, she stopped enough to be able to talk. “No, but very close. It’s Red. Why ‘Little’? I’m not so small.”

He turned away, rummaging through the cabinet once again. He scooted multiple spices out of the way and then replied, “You’re definitely not bigger than me.”

Red resisted the urge to laugh again.

Kannon pulled out a spice at the back of the cabinet, a little container of red dust, just the color of his hair. He walked to the fire and began to pour some into the pot over the fire.

Silence took over, Kannon watching the pot over fire, and Red tinkering with the sheets between her fingers. That silence gave her a moment to think, to screw her head back on right.

Alright, a wolf, called Kannon, lured her into a trap. The wolves had surrounded her; she saved Oznap for the moment, and had to give up her life in the process. Kannon killed her.

But, he didn’t. She didn’t die. He had taken her here and bound her wounds. He had saved her from…himself. If that made any sense, which, in her mind, it did. But why? Who would slay the enemy and then decide to revive her?

Her lips parted, but she stopped the words from escaping her weak body. What was that? Was she about to say, ”Thanks”?

No. She couldn’t have. There was no reason to. She couldn’t.

“Why didn’t you finish me off?”

Kannon froze, and Red noticed his muscles tense under the skin of his smooth bare back. Red tensed herself, her body frozen, and she almost regretted saying anything. In this stage, his back to her, her body tense, she could feel his heart beat against her skin, telling her each feeling that passed through his body. Then again, she was never really good at interpreting how another person felt. This feeling that passed through him was regret. Regret that he saved me? If he hadn’t, he would’ve been able to avoid such questions, but he did, and now, he had no choice but to tell me.

“Back in the forest?” She reminded him. She couldn’t believe what she was doing, egging him on like this. The tension in his body and the waves rolling off him grew, but she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to be afraid of anyone, let alone a young wolf.

He stood and turned on his feet. The hair loomed over his eyes a moment, and then he lifted his head. The frown turned itself into a stealthy grin. It didn’t seem forced at all, like he really wanted to.

“You always choose the easy questions first, don’t you?”