Red's Heart

A knitted heart swung silently on a ribbon tied around Red’s neck. It bounced against her chest as she walked, but only when it had sneakily slipped out from the protection of her red cloak.

I’d vaguely wondered what exactly it was and why she wore it. Her onyx eyes would flutter closed whenever she held the heart delicately in her fingers. She would then tuck the heart safely between her breasts.

The light of the full moon hovered in the night sky, taunting me, filling me with the restless urge to sing to it. To howl my sweet sad song of the girl in the red cloak. But I hadn’t yet shifted back into my warm pelt. I stalked the silent woods, playing with the edge of the clearing of Red’s home, watching her as she moved. She knew I watched. She must, because she provoked me each night as she stood beside her bed.

I crouched in the shadows of the trees as Red tilted her head to the side, exposing her long pale neck. The blood red cape fell to the floor, followed closely by her thin white dress. I licked my lips, my tongue brushing over my sharp canines. My nails grated into the side of a pine, already gouged with deep lines from my nights of watching her.

Long delicate fingers trailed down her neck, tracing that one spot where my teeth had grazed. She wanted it. My mouth watered. She wanted my teeth buried in her skin. To rip out her throat and bath in the beautiful red that pooled from her body. Oh, how wonderful that sounded.

The candlelight flickering in Red’s room turned to darkness, signalling my mark to emerge from the cover of the trees. I had decided that tonight was the night. My patience had worn to a very thin point and the temptation was barely sustainable.

I was as silent as the snow falling from the sky. My footsteps quickly filling with white ice until there was no trace I had been there at all. The sound of a crackling fire roared in the small stone cottage, the only warmth provided in the home and the light of it glowing out of a circular paned window.

My feet treaded carefully towards the wooden door. A poor excuse for safety since it swung open easily once I had snapped the deadbolt lock. I breathed the scents of the house, the strongest being that of Red. But perhaps that was because I had engraved it deeply in my senses.

I waited.

It wouldn’t be long for I had timed the moment to a precise second and on the fifth count I was rewarded. The broken wooden door of the cottage creaked open slowly and cautiously, obviously having noticed that the lock on the door was a sign of forced entry.

My lips turned into a sneer as a hand curled around the edge of the door, gaining strong control of it as the door widened. Thoughts of Red had my mind careening out of control, her scent filling my nostrils with incredible lust. Yes, tonight was the night. She had taunted me long enough.

As the man stepped through the doorway, his eyes immediately found my own, glancing briefly down at my naked body before turning newly enraged eyes back to my face.

“Alice!” The man roared, his muscles tensing as he charged towards me. “What the Hell have you done with her? Who the Hell do you think you are?”

I merely let out a growl as the man threw as much force at me as he could possibly muster. A deep laugh resounded in the small cabin as I hooked my claws into the man’s chest and flung him at the wall, groaning in satisfaction when I heard a sickening crunch.

“Eric?”

The sound of Red’s voice snapped me back to attention and I turned to her with a glorious smirk plastered proudly on my face. The smell of her fear tainted the air. The beat of her heart drummed loudly in her chest. Yes, tonight had been a good night.

“You – what have you done to him?”

I ignored Red’s sudden gasping sob as I stalked over to the slump body of the man who entered her home each night, throwing the girl a harsh glare as I grabbed him by the throat. Red let out a choked whimper, begging me to let this man go, but I only smiled. Her desperation only encouraged me, her pain excited me.

The man was still alive. I could feel the faint throbbing in his neck as my claws clenched it tightly. But he was unconscious. I refrained from scowling at the fact that he wouldn’t know what was about to happen to him, choosing instead to shrug at Red as if to say ’what can you do?’