Who's Afraid Of The Big Bad Wolf?

Chapter I

Red is the Color That I Enjoy The Most

My mommy!

She's so pretty... She looks just like me, you know~

With brilliant, shimmering red hair that curls in ringlets around her round, rosy cheeks, and her pink, plump lips. Mmm~ They look so yummy, so I always love it when mommy showers me with her delicious kisses!

She's a tall lady, and she wears those magical black high shoes she's always going on about. They hurt her feet, so why does mommy still wear them? I tilt my head to the side, placing a finger on my cheek before she notices that I'm standing behind her, admiring my beautiful mommy~ She turns around, crouches down on her knees and I let out a giggle, touching my cheeks because ah~ Mommy dearest feels so warm when she touches my face with hers!

I have the best mommy in the world.

She runs her fingers through my hair and stands back up, reaching for the counter. She's holding this basket—a sight that I know all too well, and for a moment my eyes narrow, glinting with a red light. The ends of my mouth curl into a smirk and I let out another giggle.

I can feel my mother grinning to herself because of the sound of my laugh, but I am not the cute little innocent child that she thinks she has. Why, I am a perfect, nice child that listens to everything she says, teehee! The perfect little girl~ Mommy, Mommy, let me see what's in the basket, Mommy! Is it your insides, tekekekeke~ That brilliant, red apple can be your internal organs, and that banana? Your slimy, dripping appendix teheheh. Humans don't need their appendixes that much, and I'd love to play with Mommy's.

She hesitates with picking the basket up, but I can tell she's still getting over my laugh. My voice is prettyful! It sounds like birds chirping, and it's very sweet, like bubblegum! That's why people always say I sound like bubblegum popping, but it's true. I love my voice, and I love singing, so I put my arms down to my sides and open my mouth, singing a vowel out for her to hear, to catch her attention.

"Aaaahhhh~!" I recite, getting her to turn around and grin at me. "Mommy, mommy~!" Before I end my sentence, I wrap my arms around her legs, burying my head into her soft pants and shutting my eyes tightly. "I love you, Mommy," I murmur, and she lets out a premature chuckle before patting me on my head.

"I love you too, Charlotta," she replies back, turning around and handing me a basket. Yum yum, the basket of intestinal organs! I take it with cheer, giving her an approving nod. "Now, don't you get lost again in those woods, okay?"

"Okay!" I chime. The woods... I love the woods. Whenever Mommy sends me to the woods, I know what must be done. My fingers start to twitch for some reason... I know why. Soon, the woods will be covered in red. "Your grandmother is sick." Mommy says, wagging her finger. "So make sure she gets that basket!" she speaks. I know Gwandma is sick. It's sad. I don't want Gwandma to die... "Your father is still at work, so you'll have to get the job done, won't you Charlotta." I'm gonna cry, Mommy, I'm going to cry... I blink a few tears off my eyelashes and, but they keep poring down my face and down my round cheeks. "Aww... Honey, listen... If you give her the fruit in time, she'll get better!"

I close my eyes tighter, refusing to believe her. If Gwandma's sick, she'll die, right? She'll die and it'll be all my fault. "Cheer up, Charlotta darling! We can't have you going to visit your grandma sad, right? Then she'll never get better." Reluctantly, I tap my index fingers together, looking up at my Mommy. She's so big and tall and smart, like a tree. I wonder if she'll fall down just like a tree too~ My mommy pulls my cape on my head and I make sure my fingers aren't overtaken by the sleeves on my shirt underneath my pretty corset dress.

My red boots are all laced up too! I'm ready to go now. Even though my face is hidden underneath the red of my hood, I know I'm on a mission! To make sure my grandmother is in tip-top shape! When I was little, I used to visit her everyday! "Baa, baa, black sheep!" I exclaim, closing my eyes as hard as I can and standing on my tip toes towards my mother, my mouth turning into an overturned '3'. "Have you any wool~?"

"Oh, Charlotta! You've been reading too many of those books, haven't you?"

I clutch the handle of the basket and skip towards the door. I'm too short to reach the knob, so I have to stand on my tip toes for that, too. "Yes, Marry, have I, three bags full!" I pause, giving my Mommy one last look. But I can't for long! I run up and hug her legs again with all of my might, and then I dash towards the door, fitting through the narrow opening I made for myself. "One for my master, one for my dame, and one for the little girl who lives in the lane~!"

I stare back at my house, and then I look down at the wooden basket, inhaling the smell of fruit and freshly prepared goods like it's a fine perfume. Mommy makes the best things for the best people. Try not to get lost, hmm? My Mommy's words ring in my head, but getting lost isn't something on my agenda~ I pull my candy cane from underneath the red of my cloak—red! It's such a brilliant color, so pretty~ There's something about the color red that gets my insides pumping~

I can't say when I've started loving the color red.

In Kindergarten, the teacher would always make us take a crayon out of the box to write with. I loved the texture of the big, fat red crayon. So I used it. The way the color stained the white pieces of paper... I could stare at it for hours. Crimson, alizarin, rose, rust—I love all hues of red. When I was younger, whenever I'd fall into the sidewalk and scrape a knee or cut myself, I wasn't like all of the other kids, I swear~

I would watch those little red beads trickle down my arm in transition. For minutes. Hours. Days. And when the wounds would heal, I'd pick the scabs with glee and watch the process all over again. Blood never stopped pouring for me. Because I loved it, hahah~ And it loved me~ Gwandma's in love with the color too. She's the one who told me that scars don't heal, and I should be proud of the red stuff I was bleeding. Told me that children do not cry at the sight of blood. Bleeding and not loving it wasn't permitted in her house.

And we'd smile together teeheee~

It's our little secret! Even Mommy and Daddy know nothing about it. As if we'd be smoking, Gwandma passed around the knife and we'd take turns playing in puddles on our arms that we had created with simple strokes of the knife. It's... Nice, you know~? I guess you could say we're just a bunch of masochists, but that's farthest from the truth! My Gwandma is the best Gwandma in the world, because she told me she was an assassin. Our little secret, nothing more~

Don't get lost, Mommy says.

I'm already lost.

I am Little Red Riding Hood. Charlotta Cherry. Lost in thought, I stick the top of my biiiig candy cane in my mouth and start nomming on it, my scarf dragging across the wet, moist grass. I hear growling, but it's only my pet bears. They come from every shadow in the woods until we're all riding deep. There's about eight bears and one me. Other children would run. I'm not other children. Like good pets, they obey and get on all fours when they see the grin on my face as I'm teething on my candy cane. They're all wearing a bow I gave them to wear on their necks... Daw, look at them all prettyful~ I throw my Mommy's basket on top of one of the bears' backs and all of us venture out deeper into the thicket of trees. Gwandma will be so happy when I show her what I've become.

I want to be number one.

The King of Crowns.

Not the Crownless King.

The King of Orches and Flowers.

Dark, beautiful, crimson, red flowers~!

Not even all the way into the forest, I see this pink blur in my vision... And when I get closer, I start to make its features out. She's standing up with one hand propped on her waist, but she looks angry... Really, really, really mad! But her dress—her dress is so nice and vivid and pink and frilly, much like my own, red one hahah~ I'm sure those pink heels aren't helping her in the woods, and with every step she takes she sinks into the ground, which makes her let out a deep cry of frustration. My bears have all scattered now, so I don't think she'll upset them.

Such a pretty lady~!

I bounce over towards her, and almost immediately her grip tightens on her baseball bat—it's covered in blood. Drenched in the stuff! The red, pretty stuff~ She scrutinizes me under those mean, murderous eyes and snarls deeply. "A fucking brat at all times like these?" she roars, swiping her bat across the air. She almost would have hit me if she wasn't planted in the ground by her high heels. Ooops, hahaha! "You better get lost, thundercunt, I don't have time to fucking babysit, and I'm not to keen on watching you watching me struggle to get these shit heels out of the ground...!" I'm scared for a moment—I've never heard anyone curse at me like that, it makes me want to cry...!

But then my face lights up and I examine what she's really standing in. Quicksand.

Impatiently, she throws her bat at me but misses, prolly because she was so mad. Aww, but I hate it when people are mad... I'm a really empathetic person, buuu. I hide my face behind my scarf and I grab the frills of her dress, yanking it. Her face completely contorts and she makes her way to my neck, but when she hears the sound of one of my loyal bears roaring, her neck turns left and she forgets about me for a moment. "Kid, don't just stand there, hand me my fucking bat already!"

But she doesn't need it.

I stand up straight, my arms behind my back and I grin as the bear pulls her out of the sand, bringing her to safety. Her shoes are all sandy, but I'm sure she doesn't mind. "What are girls made of, made of, what are little girls made of~!" I sink, doing a little twirl before sitting down on the ground and laughing. "What are little girls made of, pretty laddy~?" She's confused, but she takes her precious time walking towards her weapon, and she picks it up, tapping it into the palm of her freehand. My loyal bear is behind her waiting for the moment where she makes the wrong decision. And she knows that, but I don't think she cares. Teehee, so I brandish my candy cane again and start knawing on it with all of my might, looking up at her through the top of my eyes.

That's when she gets frustrated, again.

"Who the hell are you?" she asks in a biting tone, her nose doing that weird quirky thing again. Like she's disgusted at me. But I'm as sweet as sugar, aren't I Mommy? I sway in my seat, singing songs in my head.

Fourteen, I remind myself. I'm fourteen.

"Four one~!" I reply, standing up straight and dusting off my cloak. "Hi, my name's Charlotta, and I'm supposed to be going to my Gwandma's house to deliver her a basket of goodies!" Before that mean lady can answer, I skip around her three times before falling down on my back, giggling up a storm and looking at the clouds. "It's going to rain soon, lady, do you have an umbrella~ Umbrellas make flowers for impromptu graves, buuu~!"

"Nice fashion sense," she mutters, taking note of my loli dress. Then she places her bat against her shoulder. "Maybe you've got what it takes to be a very bad girl. The name's Bad Girl. Don't ask me again—that shit gets annoying. What the fuck are you doing out here all alone, though? You're young. Which is fine by me. I respect a girl who can be bad at a young age." I throw my hands out, closing my eyes and smiling sweetly.

"Dunno. My Mommy said I had to be alone~ What about you, Bad Girl?"

"Heh!" she paused to take a swing at the tree for no reason at all. It was scary, at first, but as she kept hurting the poor tree with her baseball bat, I kind of got used to the sound. She really... Has to take out her anger on all of the things before she answers...? "There's a big thing going on in these woods. Fucking assassins from everywhere are here, and we're looking for some—crack!—old time bitch in this place. Word is, if we manage to kill her, we get to be resurrected and we'll appear in the next No More Heroes game. That's what the author says, though, and that bitch is the greatest psychopath there is. Bitch—crack!—better not be lying to me, either, making me team up with a fucking kid!" She pauses, looking at the big, gaping whole she just put in the tree. Pretty~! "And to be bad one more time? Sounds good, yeah?"

"Mmmhmm," I answer, putting my hands on my mouth. "Bad Girl, can I help you find what you're looking for, and, and, and, and...!" I struggle with my words, but then I find them again. "I know the forest like the back of my hand, I've killed many people here, and~!"

"So... You know how to pinpoint an old, crusty wolf bitch then, kid?"

"Yes!" I chime, standing up and running towards her, grabbing her hand. But before we walk forward, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around her legs, inhaling her scent. She smells like booze and red stuff. Red blood. Mmmm. "I love you~!" I sing. But then she pushes me away violently. I almost would have collided into a tree, had my fluffy bear not have nuzzled me out of harm's way.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Not I~

A/N: You know that parody I was talking about writing in April? Yes, well this is the first chapter! XD;; Lovely Charlotta is Little Red Riding Hood, and this is a parody of the story. All assassins will be featured in this, including some from Protest the Hero, don't worry, as this is a Protest the Hero parody. XD;;;

This is just a little background on Charlotta and how she came to be an assassin, and there's Bad Girl. You guys should already know Bad Girl. So, pretty much, killing this person who lives in this forest is a free-for-all for all assassins everywhere, and there's going to be tons of competition. Let's see who ends up dying first! XD;;

As always, this will keep up the Little Red Riding Hood scheme. If not a little. XD;;