Little Red Riding Hood

In a small wooden cabin, in the middle of the living room that connects to the front door and outside: a lone, hunched figure rocked back and forth like a pendulum on her finely-carved poorly-aged rocking chair, her eyes closed in what seemed to be a poor imitation of meditative practices thought in many sects…or just plain drowsy. Despite the numerous creases on her aged face, there was still a shadow of cold impassivity that hid her emotions and thoughts with flawless efficiency, a trait only available to those of ample wisdom and experience.

Like a bark being carved by a poor sculptor, the edges of her lips, as well as her cheeks and most of the left side of her face arced up as well, working in disgusting harmony as the shadow of a crooked smile reached her face. With the sound akin to flesh being ripped apart from its suturing, she opened her crusty eyelids and revealed silvery white gems with swirling energy inside of the sclera. The dim light in the cabin began to darken, then light up exponentially, before dimming again.

This time, however, an intricately-detailed book was on her lap. A rotting branch vaguely resembling an arm reached out for the book from her deep brown robe concealing her hideous form, picking it up and opening it to a specific page with limber fluidity. The title read: Little Red Riding Hood.

With a gentle voice carrying deep malevolence, she said:

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl who seek only to deliver treats and herbs to her beloved Grandmother who lived deep in the forest. The little girl wore a red cape the shade of blood which she took with her everywhere, especially when visiting Grandmother." Her voice was as beautiful as the sun and bore the symphony and grace of a hundred sirens, each one in a league of their own.

She continued: "Because of this, she had been granted the moniker of Little Red Riding Hood by the townsfolk at the behest of Grandmother. Woodsman always told her:

'Do not stray from the path. Always follow the path. Never forget the path. There are wolves in this forest, tricky ones with great wit and masterful guile. As long as you do not stray from the path, then nothing bad will happen. Yes, the path shall guide as all! Everything, everywhere…all at once,' Woodsman held his axe close to his heart, trembling in utter amazement of…something.

Little Red Riding Hood never doubted Woodsman, trusting him with her child-like innocence. She always had been such a sweet, gullible girl."

As she read the story more and more, peeling through the pages with newfound vigor and excitement, her silver eyes scanned the words written on the pages hungrily, as if simply reading the words was not enough to satiate her hunger.

She needed more stories, better twists and turns, bearing the greatest endings and the worst of all living beings as antagonists! Of course, only if the hero can survive, learn a lesson, and achieve his truest purpose of all!

To reach the end of their stories and leave her even hungrier for more.

"Little Red Riding Hood trekked the familiar path of wood and leaves, eventually reaching a fork in the road.

'Left,' she regarded the fork, pointing to the west.

'No, no, no,' A whispery voice said from within the shadows. Not a moment later, Wolf stepped out, bearing his teeth in a crooked smile.

'What do you mean no?,' Little Red Riding Hood said with her curious voice, having completely forgotten Woodsman's warnings.

'That is not the way to Grandmother's,' he pointed east 'this way is faster, not to mention much safer than left.'

'Okay!,' Little Red Riding Hood beamed with innocent glee and utter respect for Wolf.

Wolves, after all, lived in the forest, and are thus much better navigators in the woods than she.

After a while, Little Red Riding Hood reached Grandmother's cottage.

'Wolf was right, it was safer! I only lacerated myself seventeen times and dislocated my shoulder once!,' she exclaimed with her happy voice.

Things were really looking up for Little Red Riding Hood!

Little Red Riding Hood entered the beautiful cottage, opening the door and setting her basket of sweets and herbs for Grandmother. The living room was thrashed, destroyed, like there had been a fierce struggle many moons ago. Death and suffering lay in the air, perfectly preserved by some great power. But that did not matter.

It's Grandmother! Nothing could be more important than seeing Grandmother..!

With a big smile on her face and a plate of snacks on her hand, she greeted Grandmother:

'Grandmother, I've come to deliver you sweets and herbs…just the way you like it.'

Little Red Riding Hood immediately put her arm up in defense of the incoming strike. Grandmother tend to forget a lot these days.

However, no matter how long she waited, it never came. Only silence was offered in response.

'…Grandmother?,' with a disappointed frown, Little Red Riding Hood peeled the scarlet sheets of Grandmother's bed.

What lay there was Grandmother with gouged out eyes, lopped off ears and hand plucked teeth. Grandmother's blood flowed down and soaked the floor and bed, painting it with the ominous hue of blood.

'Oh, come on, Grandmother. Enough with your silly games. I'm not a child anymore! I'm already a young lady, on the cusp of becoming a full-fledged teen. I don't want you playing with me like this anymore. Come on!,' Little Red Riding Hood demanded as she shook Grandmother's corpse, completely ignoring the looming shadow behind her.

An unruly paw touched Little Red Riding Hood's shoulder.

'Not now, Wolf! …I need to wake Grandmother up… She promised me.' Little Red Riding Hood's eyes were empty and hollow, devoid of all that should be in a normal human being's eye.

'I see,' Wolf sighed and sat at the foot of the bed, axe in hand. Wolf's eyes, too, were empty, though in a different way than Little Red Riding Hood's.

After hours of constant shaking and repeated chants, Little Red Riding Hood finally calmed down, sitting on the foot of the bed with an exhausted smile, the one she did her absolute best to keep, no matter what. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, and the moonlight that came with it illuminated Little Red Riding Hood's eyes with a scarlet hue akin to dried blood.

'I'm ready,' Little Red Riding Hood muttered suddenly, taking the axe from Wolf's hand and raising it high and mightily, with every intent of killing whatever it wanted to hit.

Wolf kneeled before her, taking the trouble to lay on all fours as his ears flopped down in complete defeat and submission, bowing before its master. Wolf said calmly and collectively:

'It is my greatest pleasure to be vanquished by one as powerful and benevolent as you. If we had met under different circumstances, then maybe, just maybe, we would have been better companions. Friends, even, if I so dare.'

There was neither grief nor fear in Wolf's voice, only reverence and voluntary acceptance of what was to come—what was certain to come, and what he wanted to come.

'It is with the greatest pleasure as well that I thank you lent me your power for this simple wish of mine, as ridiculous and vulgar as it is,' Little Red Riding Hood smiled warmly at Wolf, the heat of her face returned.

The wolf smiled as well, and said:

'No, no. The Story you have shown me, the reality it holds, and the potential within it… Hah! Dare I say it is the greatest, most wonderful story I have ever see—'

With a sickening crunch, the greatest evil that this world has ever seen is eviscerated from existence, eaten and devoured by Little Red Riding Hood, never to grace the world's with its magnificently-evil presence anymore."

She licked her lips, wetting it finally, as the story closed. The black ink and fine calligraphy of the book became even more pronounced, turning more elaborate and beautiful as the writing became deeper and richer, claiming the parchment as its own.

The witch of the woods howled, standing up as her robe fell from her slender body.

Her wrinkles smoothed out, as if ironed. He creaking bones have never felt more limber, granting her agility on par with the gods themselves. Even her vision had been restored; what once was a blurry piece of paper is now a full-fledged book, with beautiful calligraphy and elegant handwriting. What was most surprising of all was her figure.

Her slender legs stretched unto shapely thighs, neither muscular nor unsightly, but rather the perfect balance to compliment her elegant visage. Her hips were appropriately wide with ample buttocks, contrasting her slim waist perfectly. Her arms carried astounding finesse as she stretched it to the skies, consequently making her small bosom that immaculately matched her thin figure bounce erotically. Pure white hair, the only thing that did not change, flowed like a holy cape to her impeccably sculpted back. Her face, the fairest of them all, was a visage that only gods dare match, as the sheer beauty of it is enough to blind a man with but a glance. Her rosy cheeks and lips contrasted her sickly pale skin that fitted her with utmost equivalence. The bags under her eyes and wrinkles on her face were nothing but a forgotten dream, replaced by smooth, flawless milky-white skin. Her silver eyes carried omniscient intelligence in them matter-of-factly, which she held both casually and proudly at the same time.

Wetting her lips with her tongue in a way that will make all men swoon even with every single warning in the world, she gazed and admired her beautiful form, having shed her old one. A maleficent and magnanimous smile rose from her rosy lips as she gazed east, peering through time and space, taking in the sight of a group of travelers passing through Karan Forest—HER forest.

The Witch of Envy, Baba Yaga, laughed maniacally and gracefully, her voice echoing through the dense canopy of enchanted trees.

'A Story has come to me once more, perfectly ripe for my taking.'

Her harmonious cacophony of laughs echoed within the forest for what felt like hears or decades, stretching infinitely.