Title: The Revenge of Little Red Riding Hood

Author: J. E. Talveran

Disclaimer: All trademarks of C.S.I and of White Wolf's "World of Darkness" RPG books do not belong to me. I am merely borrowing them for the duration of these tales. Any original characters, however, are solely mine. This story will have femmeslash (though not explicit) so if that doesn't fit your tastes, you are free to click out. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'll enjoy diving back into the writing process.

The Revenge of Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter One

"My great religion is a belief in the Blood, the Flesh, as being wiser than the Intellect.
We can go wrong in our minds. But what our blood feels and believes and says is always true. The Intellect is only a bit and a bridle."

D. H. Lawrence

Three people who were not human were tied to the floor with chains over their wrists, shoulders, chests, hips, knees, and ankles. The chains groaned as the trio struggled underneath them. Three pairs of eyes focused on the hooded shadow on the opposite side of the cabin. Three mouths opened wide in roaring rants, slavering swears, and cold curses against that silent figure. Six hands flexed, the nails digging into meaty palms.

Three people died that night.

a.a.a.

Sara Sidle shifted her field kit between her hands as she reached out to shake hands with the local sheriff. His natural smile and boyish face looked misplace in the strobing red and blue lights of squad cars parked haphazardly about them. He gently took her elbow and led her outside the circle and onto a dirt stretch of ground.

"Sara, thank you for coming out on such short notice. I know this isn't procedure but you're the only scientist I'll trust to work with my small department. We don't get murders out here, you know that."

Sara nodded, her eyes leaving his face and scanning their surroundings. They were in a rural town far outside Vegas' limits, the forest a stark contrast to the desert she had grown used to. The sky was clear above them, the stars numbering in the billions as they shone down onto a woman who was jaded by neon lights overtaking the night. It was serenity, until she turned around and saw the trickle of blood dripping down the steps leading into the cabin proper, the gaggle of people crowding the area, and the unmistakable tension that arose in the air after a homicide.

"I'll do whatever you need, Jonas," Sara's voice was soft as she turned back. "You name it, you got it."

Jonas Reed flashed Sara a grateful smile and tipped his hat as he got down to business. "This area used to be a tourist site. Cabins, camping, hiking. All that outdoorsy stuff city-folk travel miles for. Well, a few years back the owner died and left the place to his daughter." He gestured to a woman standing in the distance giving a statement to another officer. "An Amelia Hunter. Charming gal, if a bit introverted," he coughed, then continued. "She came up here with three others. A Tommy Williams, a Jessie Hart, and Edward Kite. They didn't reopen the place, but they settled down here. Lived without incident here for five years now. Until ..."

Sara nodded, her eyes back on Amelia's profile. Her heart pained with the loss the woman must be feeling right now but then she steeled. Evidence first, then people. "What happened in there, Jonas?"

"You need to see it for yourself. Two deputies have already gone sick at the scene."

"Lead the way, then." The pair left their semi-private conversation spot and returned to the others, then passed through and up into the cabin, avoiding the blood trail. As they entered, Sara's mind went into an analytical process, taking in the door, the walls, the placement of items. Her eyes traveled the length of the floor first, noting the blood spatter. Then, finally, she allowed herself to look at the scene itself.

Chains nailed into the floorboard held down what appeared to be three human remains. Heads were set into chest cavities, the eyes staring upward in eternal horror. The bodies were stripped of skin in odd patterns as well, the spirals and twists a macabre art-form on human canvas. Though the scene was shadowed, enough was lit to show off the grisly nature of what had happened here.

"Has the coroner cleared the bodies yet?" Sara looked up to Jonas, her brow furrowed in question.

"Not yet. Jimmy lives a bit away and was on-call tonight. He'll get here as quick as he can."

"Sheriff?" a man stepped forward. "Call for you."

"Excuse me Sar--"

"Go ahead, I'll be here," she waved him off, and crouched down, shining her flashlight near one of the victim's hands. The floorboard was torn up, though the chain's spikes looked firmly set in. Gouge marks marred the wood stain, and a closer look to the hands showed blood caking the nail-beds. She nodded to herself, stood up, and went to work.

a.a.a

The process lasted far into the morning hours, sunlight streaming through the eastern windows. Sara pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn and gestured for the young (had she ever been that green?) investigator beside her that they were wrapped for the time being. They left the house, closing the door behind them. Outside, most of the cars were gone, the crowd dwindled to less than a dozen. She spotted Jonas, the deputy who had pulled him away. The assistant coroner was still there as well. The three young CSI's, if that was even a title out here, and Amelia. The woman was sitting on a bench on the far side of the clearing, her head braced on her hands as she stared quietly out into the woods.

Sara hesitated a bit, then walked forward, coming to stand opposite the grieving woman. "Miss Hunter?"

Amelia looked up and Sara blinked in surprise at the lack of any signs of tears on the woman's face. In fact, Amelia seemed very calm, very composed. Her gray eyes locked with Sara's in silent question, her auburn hair in a messy braid down her back.

Sara resisted an urge to back away and held out her hand. "I'm Sara Sidle, the CSI that's going to lead the investigation on the forensics' side."

"Jonas speaks highly of you," Amelia said, her voice quiet and rich. She smiled slightly, and took the offered hand. "Amelia Hunter, I was visiting Jonas and his wife for a monthly catch-up. Came home and well, the three usually try to shock me when I walk in but this ... this took the cake," her lips quirked upwards in a bitter smile.

Sara looked to the free bench seat and Amelia nodded to the quiet request. As she sat, she started up her own questions. "What were the deceased to you?"

"Ah, the oddity of our living status? Jonas doesn't approve, but then again, he doesn't understand. We're not lovers or some pseudo-orgy cult. We're family, even though we aren't blood-related. Those three were closer to me than my own family ever was."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Everyone says that, Miss Sidle, but thank you for the condolences." Amelia frowned, "why is a CSI asking these? I always thought that was the detective's side of the deal."

Sara smiled wryly. "Habit, I suppose. Vegas lets us have a longer leash."

"Ah." The two fell into silence, though Sara couldn't figure out if it was awkward or not. The redhead had turned her attention back to the woods, her eyes glazed over with grief, Sara supposed.

"Sara?" Jonas stood a few feet away. "They're finally taking off, heading back to the offices."

Sara answered him with an "coming, then" and bid her goodbyes to the redhead before trotting to her car.

TBC

This story is not beta-checked. I try to catch the grammar mistakes and spelling errors as best as I can but if any slip out, I apologize.