Page 42 of Little Red Riding Hood
And now, Wim’s massive paws pinned down a third man. The commoner’s eyes bulged as Wim’s jaws hovered inches from his face, ready to strike.
Red’s mind froze, paralyzed by the horror of the scene. Wim’s fur was matted with dirt, twigs, and blood, his eyes blazing with an unnatural hunger. The air reeked of death and bodily fluids, and Red’s stomach churned with the stench.
The man’s screams grew louder, more desperate, as Wim’s breath washed over his face. Red’s hand instinctively went to his bow, but he hesitated. What was he supposed to do? Kill Wim to save this random peasant? His mind spun with the impossible choice. He knew Wim, knew the man beneath the wolf, but in this moment, he was faced with a monster.
Wim’s muscles tensed, his jaws opening wider, ready to deliver the killing blow. Time seemed to slow as Red watched, transfixed, as Wim’s fangs hovered above the man’s throat. Red’s voice was stuck in his throat, unable to call out, unable to do anything but stand there and witness the carnage.
“Stop!” Red eventually managed. “Wim, stop!”
The massive wolf’s head swung towards Red, and his heart clenched. Though the creature wore Wim’s form—the same grey fur, the same muscular build—the eyes that fixed on him blazed with feral hunger. No trace remained of the warmth, the intelligence, thehumanityRed had come to know.
A growl rumbled through the clearing, deep enough to vibrate through Red’s boots and up his spine. The wolf’s muzzle pulled back, revealing crimson-stained teeth in a grotesque parody of a smile.
“Ahhh,” the beast’s voice scraped like claws across stone. “It’syou,the delicious one.”
The pinned commoner seized his chance. He scrambled backwards on his hands and feet, then bolted into the forest, crashing through the undergrowth in blind panic.
Red’s fingers tightened on his bow, but before he could raise it, the wolf lunged. The world spun as Red’s back slammed into the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. His bow clattered away, far beyond reach. Massive paws pressed into his shoulders, and the stench of blood and death washed over him as hot breath ghosted across his face.
Rising panic consumed Red as the wolf’s weight crushed him into the earth, leaves and twigs digging into his back. This close, he could see chunks of flesh caught between the beast’s teeth, could hear the wet sound of saliva dripping onto the ground beside his head.
Those weren’t Wim’s eyes staring down at him. They held no recognition, no warmth—just raw, primal hunger.
“I can’t wait to see if you taste as delicious as you smell.” The wolf leaned towards Red’s neck.
Think, think, think!
Could anything pierce through the feral haze clouding Wim’s eyes? The weight of the massive wolf pressed him further into the ground, and sharp claws pricked through his shirt.
“What would Tobias say if he saw you now?” Red spat. “His brave, strong Wim, reduced to this savage beast? Is this the wolf who protected a scared child from a storm?”
The wolf’s growl faltered for a fraction of a second.
“He adores you.” Red twisted the knife deeper. “Called you his hero. But look at you—nothing but a rabid dog who can’t control himself. He’d bedisgusted.”
Wim’s jaws snapped inches from Red’s face, but Red caught a flicker of something in those wild eyes—pain.
“You don’t deserve his trust. Or his love.” Red’s words dripped with venom. “What kind of monster murders innocent people?You’re worse than the slave traders. At least they kept their victims alive.”
The wolf’s grip loosened slightly, a whimper escaping his throat.
“You promised to protect him. To teach him. But you can’t even protect yourself from your own savage nature.” Red made his lip curl in disgust. “You’re nothing but a disappointment. A failure. Tobias deserves better than a beast who’d rip apart humans like they were prey.”
Red was making himself sick with the words, hurled at Wim like poisoned arrows.
The massive wolf’s body began to tremble, violent shudders racking his frame. His head dropped, ears flattening against his skull as whimpers escaped his throat. The sound pierced Red’s heart—raw, wounded noises that spoke of deep pain.
Guilt crashed over Red. His cruel words had cut through the feral haze, yes, but at what cost? Each tremor that passed through Wim’s body felt like an accusation. Red had weaponised Wim’s love for Tobias, turned it against him in the most vicious way possible.
The pressure on Red’s chest eased as Wim lifted his paw, backing away with his tail tucked between his legs. Blood still matted his fur, but the wild hunger had vanished from his eyes, replaced by something worse—shame.
Red didn’t think. He surged forward and threw his arms around Wim’s neck, burying his face in the thick grey fur. The wolf stiffened at the contact, but Red held on tighter, fingers curling into the soft strands.
“I’m sorry,” Red whispered into Wim’s fur. “Come back to me, Wim. I just need you to come back to me,” he rasped. “I need you with me, Wim. I won’t make it to the Dark Forest alone. I’ll be walking in circles, starving half to death by nightfall. And who will keep me warm at night?”
“Get off me,” Wim said. And it was Wim now, Red knew it for sure… somehow. “Red, get off me,” he growled, though he made no attempt to shake him away.
“No.”
