Red Riding Hood

by AnsonWerewolf

A revised, more violent, modern take on Little Red Riding Hood.

Little Red Riding Hood (Revamped)

Grandma walked from her house, worried about her Little Red. It was almost midnight,
and the full moon, although illuminating the woods, if Grandma knew the way Red was
taking, it wouldn't help that much. Reaching into her pocket, Grandma pulled out her
Blackberry and sent Red a text message.
Where are you?, the text read.

Red scowled down at the message. Yes, it was 11:00, but Red both knew the way
through these woods and knew that it was an extremely long way from her mother's to
Grandma's. Red stopped in her tracks to reply to her Grandma's message, a little mad
that her Grandma was on her about being late. But Red knew she was only like that for
her safety, and Grandma was getting pretty old. Was Grandma like this because she's
worried she would have a heart attack and kneel over before Red arrived to take care of
her?
No, Red thought, Grandma loves me because we're family. I'm just being naive.

Thump-thump...went the youngling's heart.
Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump...
The beast's own heart beat fast, blood rushing through all it's veins, adrenaline getting it
riled up for the meal to come.

Red sent the text message, and when she put her phone away, she just caught a
glimpse of...something...in the shadows. Red's heart stopped for a fraction of a second,
as she saw a massive silhouette in the brush and woods. She could see the hot breath
drifting from what she assumed it's face was. But she didn't know what this was.
It wasn't a man...not with those claws.
It wasn't an animal...not with the way it stood.
What was it? Was it friendly? What was it here for?
All of her questions were answered as it attacked her.

The beast went from the brush to right in front of her in an instant. It brought it's sharp
claws across her face, leaving three deep gashes (one across both eyes, blinding her;
one across her nose, causing the bridge to snap apart and fall to the ground; and one
across her mouth, giving her a Glagslow Smile). She was so startled that she didn't feel
the pain, her sensory nerves were stunned with how fast the unknown beast was upon
her.
The next blow caused all the pain to come, full force.
As the beast's claws left her face, it reared it other arm back and plunged it into her
middle, grabbing a fistful of organs and pulling them from her body. It grabbed her neck
with it's free arm and held her in place while it slowly brought the organ up to it's face
and gave them a bite. Suddenly realizing what was happening, Red let out a
bloodcurdling scream, but they she knew it was useless since the only way she would
escape would be if Grandma came looking for her, and with her arthritis, that wouldn't
happen.

The beast decided to continue with the meal. It pulled Red up to it's face, lifting her a full
two-feet off the ground, and sank it's teeth into the side of her neck. Red screamed in
pain, the jagged teeth with possible diseases covering it sending jolts of agony through
her system.
Red, acting on pure instinct, brought her hand back and began punching and flailing
wildly, actually hitting the thing in the eye, which dealt no damage what-so-ever. The
beast continued munching on her neck, and without warning, changed it's tone and
began shaking and tearing and her neck and shoulders, biting her collarbone in half
after a few seconds.
It finally released her, Red's body thudding on the ground, bleeding profusely from her
wounds. Blind, in pain, and scared, Red screamed and screamed, mucus and spit
dribbling down to join in the large pool of blood.
Above her, the beast raised it's arms up and, unconsciously, extended it's claws. Six-
inch talons now replaced it's normal three-inch claws. Looking down at it's victim like a
hunter would look upon a day he didn't catch anything, the beast brought it's hands
down and sliced open Red's middle. It grabbed the edges of the canyon it made and
pulled Red's torso open, revealing her insides for the world to see. This time, the beast
looked upon her like a jewelry store owner would gaze upon his precious diamonds and
gems.
Having no self-control, the beast indulged itself.

Eyeing the rest of Red's small and large intestines, it filled both hands with the now
mushed-up flesh and ate from them, an overweight man licking pie from his fingers.
Red , who now was aware of a whole new world of pain, knew what was happening:
torture. Whatever this...thing...was, it was a sadist, savoring not only the meal but the
reaction from it's food. Red realized she had just described herself as something's food,
and knew her life was over.
Eyeing Red's stomach, the beast grabbed it with one hand and cut it open with the
other. Sniffing inside the organ, it pulled out some wild berries and a half-digested
cheeseburger. The beast then stuck it's snout in the stomach, licking and slurping up
everything on the inside before throwing the thin, red, leathery organ on the ground
behind it.
Spying Red's liver and kidney, it grabbed them both in it's hands and gazed at them,
wondering where to begin with these organs. Raising the kidney to it's mouth, it used it's
teeth to split the organ down the middle, then recoiled in disgust when a small amount
of urine and some kidney stones became part of the rain on the ground. It dropped the
organ in disappointment, beginning to wonder if all kidneys were like this. Then,
remembering the liver, the beast then put the organ in it's mouth longways, so the whole
thing fit. Slowly chewing, the beast tasted the faint trace of alcohol (although it had no
idea what the taste really was), and then swallowed the liver, not fully chewed up and
having to flex his gullet muscles to get it to fit.

Red, by this time, was fading away. Flashes of her life appeared before her, not knowing
if it was her life flashing before her eyes or her life flashing in her mind. Either way, it
made her sad. She wouldn't get to hang with friends, see Grandma, her mother, her
father, anyone.

She was dying.

The beast stood up, wondering where to continue. Then it decided. This was going to
get a little...messy.
For four minutes, blood and gore flew all over the place. A shoe (socked foot still in it)
was tossed over here, a blanket of skin was draped over a tree branch, an eye was
impaled on the thorn of a rose. Blood covered every surface: trees, the ground, bushes,
flowers, plants, everything.
Every time the beast would go into Red's body, it would emerge with a different object: a
bone, a clump of flesh, a hand full of muscle, her ribcage. The object would then be
crushed by the beast's strong jaws and sharp teeth. The feast went on, not ceasing until
6:00 in the morning, when the sun had begun to rise on the horizon, and Red was
nothing but scattered bits of bloody flesh in a big red circle twenty feet in circumference.
Her riding hood was tied to the top of a small tree, blowing in the wind like a country's
flag.

RING-RING-RING!
RING-RING-RING!
RING-RING-RING!
*CLICK*
"Hello?"
"Yes, is this Jonah Adams?"
"Yes."
"The famous hunter, Jonah Adams?"
"Yes, I am he. Who is this?"
"My name is Martha Little. I live a few miles from where you reside, and I have a
situation."
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Well, you see *SNIFF* my grand-daughter was murdered last night. The police think it
was a rather large wolf. I want you to find it and kill it."
"Ms. Little, I have no qualms about avenging your grand-daughter. But...this will cost
money."
"I have plenty..."
"When should I be up?"
"As soon as possible."
"See you tomorrow then."
*CLICK*

Jonah Adams was a hunter, and a rather good one at that. He has hunted everything on
Earth, including fellow humans during manhunts, and is a well-accomplished
sportsman. Mid-forties, handsome, salt-and-pepper hair, British, good family, good
education, and a gentleman.
The perfect candidate for a poacher.
While in Africa, he decreased the number of lions in one region by twenty percent. Not
to mention he did it illegally. Over the course of his career, he killed over 2,000 animals,
a third of which were poached illegally.

He was infamous for his use in explosives to kill over eighty endangered elephants once
in India, stringing poached cheetahs up (skinned) by their tails on trees in Africa, and
the common knowledge that anyone who tried to arrest him for poaching was soon to
either turn up dead or not at all.
During his tour of the United States, where he plans to kill some two hundred deer in a
single state, he had to take a detour to go kill a wolf who murdered a young girl in
Georgia.
Bringing his signature elephant gun with explosive rounds, guaranteed to blow a hole
straight through anything except tank armor, he caught a bus to Savanna and hitch-
hiked the rest of the way.
He arrived at the address...and stopped dead in his tracks.
The front door had been kicked open.

Cocking his gun, Jonah crouched down and took baby-steps through the doorway,
pausing to look at his surroundings. Four long scratches were adorned along both walls
in the hallway, as if someone had four knives in both hands and walked slowly along,
dragging the knives along the walls along the way.
Creeping forward, Jonah was suddenly scared out of his mind when there was a
sudden and loud-
SCREECH!
Then the song played.

'There is someone
Walking behind you
Turn around
Look at me'

Jonah was terrified, eyes darting to and fro in the dark house, looking for anything that
could harbor in the shadows.

'There is someone
Watching your footsteps
Turn around
Look at me'

CRASH!
Jonah jumped near ten feet in the air, startled once again by a sudden and loud noise.
Running towards the source, gun at the ready, the lights suddenly turned on. A record
player, smashed to oblivion, was on the floor.
Jonah made a quick look around the living room. There was no damage to it, save the
record player, of course.
The kitchen, however, was a different story.
Walking into it, finger on the trigger, he was startled (again) by the amount of blood in
the room.
Blood covered the walls, cabinets, and something was jammed in the sink. Staring at
whatever it was, it took a while for Jonah to notice the ten human fingers on the

countertops. Now shaking in his camo shorts, Jonah walked over to the sink, checking
behind him every few steps. Looking down at the drain, Jonah got a clear view of what it
was.
An eyeball, white, sightless, and black pupil the only thing distinguishing it as what it
was. Jonah had an unwanted image suddenly thrust into his mind, imagining the vein
connected to the eyeball wrapped around the garbage disposal and jamming the
blades.
Jonah suddenly looked up, out the window above the sink, and was face to face with
the beast.
He screamed like a little girl.

The beast thrust it's clawed hands through the window, grabbing Jonah by the collar of
his shirt, and pulled him out the window. Luckily, Jonah was holding his gun sideways,
and it stopped him from flying out the window.
The beast, not realizing the gun was stopping Jonah, pulled harder, and ripped Jonah's
shirt apart. They both flew in opposite directions, the beast outside, and Jonah inside.
Jonah got up and ran into the living room, gun at the ready and pointing at the window
in the kitchen. Jonah, now terrified more than ever in his life, just barely registered the
wetness in his pants and dripping down his legs.
Then the beast jumped through, not the window, but the wall. It jumped through a
reinforced wall complete with wood on the outside, concrete in the middle, and drywall
on the inside.
Having taken Jonah by surprise, the beast clawed Jonah across the face, but Jonah,
acting on instinct and hair-trigger reflexes, closed his eyes and turned his head, his
cheek and ear becoming shredded instead of his eyes and face.
The beast backed away, observing it's target. It would be harder to defeat than the
youngling or the elder, but the beast knew it could do it.
Extending it's claws into talons, the beast went on the offensive. Slashing it's claws
across Jonah's chest and torso, the beast planned for him to reel back and leave his
face open.
But Jonah had seen this before: target the face. Always target the face. Jonah backed
away, running full tilt down another hallway, and turned into the bedroom. Closing the
door and locking it (but knowing it was fruitless), he turned on the lights and spun
around...only to stop dead in his tracks at what was on the bed.
A little old lady, the one he had talked to over the phone, was ripped to pieces. Blood
painted the room red, with streaks of white from the actual dry paint, gore decorated the
ceiling, giving the bedroom a creepy "evil Christmas" vibe.
Jonah, again, screamed like a little girl.

Behind him, two arms burst from the door and pulled him through.
Jonah hit the floor, dazed, confused, and frightened. Above him, the beast stood. It was
like a wolf with human characteristics, or vise versa. It had a canine face, grey skin, and
black fur on it's back, like a wolf; it had the hands, feet, and body form of a human,
except the massive claws.
The yellow eyes, Jonah thought, were the devil's.

Jonah, thinking of nothing else, and terrified, kicked the beast across the snout as it
bent down towards him.
His boot hit the side of it's snout, knocking out a sharp tooth and embedding it on the far
wall.
The beast was shocked that the kick actually hurt (but just a little), and stumbled back.
Jonah, immediately seeing his chance, grabbed his elephant gun and aimed it right at
the beast's chest.
He pulled the trigger and, not holding it right, had his collarbone broken by the kick. The
bullet flew right at the creature, and then the most amazing (but at the same time
shocking) thing happened...

The beast swatted the bullet out of the air. Pulling a "Hancock", the beast back-handed
the high-explosive bullet from it front of his face to the wall behind him, the bullet leaving
a three-foot-wide hole.
Jonah, to say the least, was dumbfounded.
"What the-", he managed to say, before getting grabbed and flung into the kitchen. He
crashed into the oven, the back of his head slamming into the gas controls. From the
stove, natural gas slowly seeped into the room, the faint hissing only able to be heard if
there was absolutely no sound and your ear was right against the stove.
Dazed, vision blurry, and (again) terrified, Jonah tried to see where the beast was. His
blurry vision made everything fuzzy and disorganized, but he could still see a black
splotch in front of him.

The beast kicked him hard in the ribs, claws on it's feet stabbing Jonah in the side.
Jonah squealed in agony, reaching for the gun that had flown from his grasp and he
was flung into the room.
The beast bent down and stabbed him in the abdomen, claws scraping against his
insides and pulling a few scraps out. Blood gushed from Jonah's wounds, but he still
fought, trying to reach for the gun. At last, when the beast was busy clawing his legs up
again and again, Jonah touched the butt of the gun. Grabbing it with one hand, he
swung it around so the barrel was aimed at the beast.
But the beast was quick and grabbed the barrel, taking it from Jonah's grasp and
throwing it across the room. Then, it stood up and jumped up, landing dead on Jonah's
knees.
There was a terrible cracking, and Jonah felt not only his knees break, but his shins,
thighs, and hips as well. Death would be coming, if it wasn't already here, waiting until
the beast dealt the finishing blow.
But, when the beast stepped back, the shell from the fired bullet suddenly rolled it's way
under it's feet, and it slipped and fell back. It crashed to the ground, leaving an indention
in the floor. Jonah saw his moment, and crawled over to the gun on his arms. The beast
jumped back up a few moments after it hit the floor, and when it was standing tall, Jonah
had the gun, pointing at it's chest.
The beast growled at him and burst into a full sprint. Jonah smiled, confident that this
would kill the beast, and pulled the trigger.
*CLICK*
He forgot to cock the gun.

The beast slammed into him, all claws digging into his torso, swirling and tearing and
twisting around to cause as much pain and distress as possible.
Jonah screamed and cried, the pain being too much to bear, then he felt the beast grab
something inside him. Looking down, he saw a jagged hole in his body, and the beast
standing up, Jonah's ribcage in it's hands.
Jonah reached up and grabbed the back of his ribcage, not allowing this creature to
steal what was rightfully his.
The beast, finding it funny that this human male was trying to recover from a mortal
wound, clenched it's fists and broke the ribcage, some bones staying in it's grasp and
some falling back onto (and into) Jonah.
Jonah, trying his best to ignore the pain, punched the beast as hard as he could in the
snout, and discovered an apparent weak spot. The beast recoiled, howling in pain and
clutching it's snout.
Jonah crab-walked backwards towards his gun, always keeping an eye on the beast.
Finally reaching it, he grabbed the handle again and swung it forward-
The beast catching it with a hand.

Jonah paled as best he could with his current blood loss, as the beast glared down at
him, hand on his uncocked gun, hot drool dribbling down from it's mouth.
Then, an idea hit Jonah like a high-speed train.
Using all of his strength, he pulled the arm holding the shotgun towards him, as the
beast's hand was on the pump of the gun. There was a familiar clicking sound, and
Jonah pushed forwards, the pump coming back into place, and the final shell being
loaded into the gun.
Jonah grinned, the beast growled in confusion, and Jonah pulled the trigger.
Around them, the house erupted in a ball of flame.

The roof blew upwards, off the house completely, and then the walls on one side blew
outwards, and the walls on the other side a few seconds later.
The whole time, there was a bright orange ball of flames trailing the debris. Flaming
pieces of wood and concrete and drywall flew outwards hundreds of feet into the forest.
Whole items including a couch and the fridge cratered in the dirt a few meters from the
epicenter. A bright orange light could be seen for miles around.
The house had exploded.

The smoking ruins of the house still burned in places. The smoke clogged the sky,
making flocks of birds have to go way around, if they weren't already scared away by
the blast.
Then, from the ruins of the house, where a woman and her grand-daughter once played
and laughed and cried, a hand shot up, talons adorning it's fingers, holding a broken
and shattered shotgun.
Howling was heard for miles.