Once upon a fairytale, a woodcutter told his daughter of a girl with a red hooded cloak. The girl’s name was Little Red Riding Hood. She was visiting her Grandmother one day when a cunning wolf tricked her. He ate her unsuspecting Grandmother and then set about planning to eat Little Red Riding Hood. Before he could though, a helpful woodcutter saved her and her Grandmother and rid them of the wolf. To this day the woodcutter hunts the wolves of the forest and the cottage stands empty and still. The woodcutter’s daughter learnt from her father’s tale and could never be tricked. She visited the cottage often, watching as it slowly rotted away until one day she met a man in the cottage. A man that became her love.

The End.

A flash of red had the old man alert as he patiently leaned backwards waiting for another glimpse. A slight smile graced his pale lips as a small girl appeared between the trees. Her scarlet red cloak floated around her as she trudged through the blackened woods. Her charcoal black hair, almost hidden by her drooping hood. The sight of the girl in a bright red cloak making her way through the dark black woods made the man’s heart fill with pride. The trees swayed above her, accompanied by the sound of the branches scratching against each other. The sound of the dead leaves and branches beneath her feet was punctuated by the dripping of blood from the hand hanging from her woven picnic basket. The severed hand draped over the edge and in her other hand dangled a woodcutter’s axe. Coated in fresh blood, the huge axe head scraped across her tall leather boots. The man’s eyes slowly travelled upwards, taking in the glistening leather glove holding the axe and as his eyes reached her face he was reminded of a girl he’d once loved. His lips curved into a weary smile as he observed the feather white cheeks, the blood red lips and the distant blue eyes of his daughter.

“All the better to kill you with, my love.” A gurgle escaped his throat as blood trickled from his mouth and down his cheek. The girl bent and kissed his bloody lips, savouring the sweet metallic taste, before dislodging the axe. The man sighed as 20 years of life escaped on a breath. She stayed a moment, just staring at the sightless, horror-filled orbs of his eyes. Such a waste, was her only thought as she climbed off his limp body. She shifted him on to the floorboards and then raised the axe high. A crow perched on the roof of the cottage outside spread its wings and leapt into the air as a dull thudding, thudding resonated from the desolate cottage. With a squawk and a flurry of feathers, it was gone.

A while later the door opened and the girl lifted her basket on to her arm. Father would be pleased.

The girl’s thoughts though, had strayed down a much darker path. A path overgrown with tendrils of hate. A hate so venomous, no soul stood a chance of surviving. A smile embedded itself on her face. A smile that initiated fear in all who saw it. A manic grin that spread like a disease towards her eyes. The man, unaware of the horror unfolding before him, lifted his head.

“My, what a big axe you seem to be holding.” Worry laced itself between his words. Panic set in as the girl raised the bloodied axe high. A psychotic laugh bubbled from her perfect lips as her face twisted into a mask of malevolence. Her hands stroked his face one last time as the axe fell and landed with a sickening thud.

“My, what beautiful eyes you have.” She stared lovingly into the endless depths of his glassy eyes.

“All the better to watch you with, my girl.” He told her, as he lowered his head towards hers. Softly, he planted a kiss over her lips. Her hands crept to his cheeks as he pulled away.

“My, what soft lips you have.” She pulled him towards her and he gladly complied, placing his lips over hers. Gradually his kisses began to wander away from her lips and across her cheek.

“All the better to kiss you with, my girl.” He whispered while trailing kisses down her neck. A shiver crawled up her spine as her breathing grew heavy.

“My, what a large heart you have.” His features twisted into a smirk as he pulled her towards him and smothered her in a passionate kiss.

“All the better to love you with, my girl.” His voice so quiet, yet filled with love for the fragile girl in his arms. Before her, his heart lay shrivelled and cold in the abyss of his chest but from the moment he laid eyes on her he knew he had to have her. He wanted every part of her. Mind, body and soul. He planned on having all of that tonight. He wanted to show her how his heart only beat for her.

Slowly, the man began to make his way towards her. His eyes, glazed with lust, trailed up her womanly figure, finally finding the smirk painted across her porcelain features. A rare smile flickered across his face as he lowered himself on to the couch, hovering over her fragile body. Quick as a flash, the girl found herself laying over the man’s body, her head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around her petite waist. She ran her hands up his arm, admiring his muscles. Her voice, soft as silk, rang out like bells.

“My, what strong arms you have.”

“All the better to hold you with, my girl.” His husky voice replied. The girl felt his chest vibrate as his voice resonated off the walls of the cottage.

The man raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time with his long legs. He wrenched the door open just as the girl raised her hand to knock. The axe and basket dropped as the man swept the girl into his waiting embrace. The girl wrapped her arms around his muscular neck as he lifted her up and buried his head in her sweet smelling neck. Her fingers tangled with his hair as his warmth radiated around her, wrapping her in a blanket of heat. The man carried her into the front room and lay her on the sofa, retreating slowly to gather her things and close the door. Her hand slipped from his as her eyes followed him. His sturdy figure bent to pick up her basket and axe. He stood for a few moments, scanning the wood for any sign of movement. Satisfied, he turned, closing the door and striding back towards the front room, carefully placing her things by the sofa. She watched the muscles rippling in his broad back as he started the fire and as the flames leapt she saw his face silhouetted against them. He swivelled back to face her and in his eyes she saw something strange. The light from the fire danced across his face, illuminating the black shining orbs of his eyes.

A flash of red had the young man alert as he eagerly leaned forward waiting for another glimpse of red. A slight smile graced his lips as a small girl appeared between the trees. Her scarlet red cloak floated around her as she glided through the woods. Her charcoal black hair almost hidden by her drooping hood. The sight of the girl in a bright red cloak making her way through the dark black woods made the man’s heart leap and start to beat unevenly. The trees swayed above her, accompanied by the sound of the branches scratching against each other. The sound of the dead leaves and branches beneath her feet was punctuated by the dripping of blood from the tail hanging from her woven picnic basket. The mangled tail draped over the edge and in her other hand dangled a woodcutter’s axe. Bloodied and dull, the huge axe head scraped across her tall leather boots. The man’s eyes slowly travelled upwards, taking in the glistening leather glove holding the axe and as his eyes reached her face his heart spluttered. He bit his lip as he observed the feather white cheeks, the blood red lips and the distant blue eyes of his lover.

Once upon a murder, the wood loomed empty and still. The blackened dead trees groaned and sighed as the wind swept through their burnt branches. A small cottage stood between the trees, hidden from all but those who knew it was there. No path could be found leading to it’s door and none but a young girl with a red hooded cloak was ever seen there. The cottage had once looked as if it had been pulled right from a  fairytale. The roses once climbing up the bricks, now hung limp and decaying. The yellow walls were now black with mould and soot and the red paint was peeling from the rotting door. Thick drapes hung across the windows where most of the shutters swung off their hinges. A man stood by the window, anxiously pacing the landscape with his cold black eyes. Many a time  the young man stood on those worn out floorboards, just waiting. Waiting for his love.