Midway through the forest Michael's antler weapon broke while he was beating a mutated mountain lion to death. The oversized beast was only a few years old, born after the end of times and was tainted by the darkness that had claimed the earth. It had a very thick hide and Michael would have entertained the idea of capturing it to use as a guardian at the hotel, but felines of any persuasion hated him, even corrupted ones.

Animals in general didn't like him. Most monsters didn't either. They all tried to run when they encountered him. Penned or tied creatures would work themselves into a frenzy trying to free themselves. Some had killed themselves, strangled by their own tethers. Those that couldn't get away would always attack, no matter how he approached them. Only by forcing his will on them could he calm them, and that only lasted as long as he was concentrating on mentally repressing their urge to panic.

Only the blood crows tolerated him, and most of them tended to keep their distance, preferring to circle and perch above him rather than come near him. Theirs was a respectful distance, he sensed, not a fearful one. Some occasionally would perch on his shoulders and one would always come if he put out an arm. That put the crows much higher in his esteem than any other animal he had encountered, natural or un-.

They kept close to him now, drawn by the copious amount of blood he was covered in. He had spent the wee hours stalking the woods, killing anything larger than himself that he encountered. The evidence of the blood sport reeked on him. The smell was getting more pungent as the morning wore on and he decided he would head back to the hotel to shower. He was about to shift himself there when he saw a flutter of bright blood red in between the mist-shrouded trees.

He paused and saw another flash of scarlet, further away, behind a tight clutch of birch trees. He wanted to see it better but didn't feel like giving chase. Instead of walking over, he sensed the position of the trees in the area and shifted himself to a spot beyond them, where he had seen the motion.

The fog fled from him as he abruptly displaced it with his presence. He spied his quarry: A young woman wearing a long red cloak. She had the hood drawn up and her back to him and was moving away. His sudden appearance must have made some sort of sound because she paused and glanced back over her shoulder.

Michael must have looked quite a horrid sight, his black clothes torn and crusted in gore, his wild blond hair snarled with leaves and more viscera. He expected her to run when she saw him, but she didn't. She turned to face him fully, lowering her hood as she did. Her long, curly black hair spilled out over her shoulders in a reckless tousle. He could see she, too, had a few leaves tangled in her locks.

"Are…you all right?" she asked him carefully, eyeing his condition.

Michael could tell many things about her with a quick glance, able to read several layers of reality at once. He could sense she was a powerful creature, not human or alive like he was used to experiencing. She wasn't a dead thing either. She was a thing of substance but not body, something that had never known mortal life. She was hungry and excited yet restrained. It was a little odd to know so much about her without having to consciously look at her energy signature or other planes, but very helpful.

"It isn't safe to wander the woods alone, Little Red Riding Hood," he remarked. "You might run into a wolf."

"So, who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" she volleyed gamely, a smile playing on her lips.

Michael could taste the challenge in those words. Could she sense him the way he could sense her? He doubted it, but the notion made him want to test her. Shifting through the short space between them, he grabbed hold of her wrists and roughly shoved her up against a nearby tree. Surprised, she tried to twist free, but he transferred her wrists to one of his hands in a practiced move and grabbed her by the throat. His grip was firm but didn't jeopardize her airflow, in case she needed it.

"Scared yet, little pig?"

She resisted him but she was no match for him physically; he overpowered her without even exerting himself. He could smell her frustration. She ceased struggling and met his eyes. She gave him a dry smile.

"Hardly," she said.

She disappeared then and he was left holding nothing but a thin silver mist that dissipated quickly in the fog. Then he heard her voice several yards away, raised to reach him.

"You'll have do better than that, Mr. Wolf."

He scanned the area where her voice had come from, but she was already gone. But she had left something behind. Going over to the spot where she'd called from, Michael saw something that looked like old copper in the undergrowth. He stooped to pluck it up and discovered it was an old-fashioned key.

The antique brass key was attached to a brown diamond-shaped plastic tag with the room number 18 stamped into it in faded black ink. Above the number, in smaller print, were the words: "ELYSIUM BOARDING HOUSE".

Michael straightened, turning the thing over in his hand as he studied it. There was no further information on it. He would have to tap his personal network to learn where it came from. He wanted to find her again. He had never met another individual who could move like he did. He suspected she was meant to round out his court, and while it was inconveniencing that she wanted to play hard-to-get, he was in the mood to give chase.

Author's Note:

I finally figured out a schedule that allows me to get some writing done despite having a full house. It's nice to have that nailed down. I need to have predictable time to write in. The muse doesn't always strike right then, but I know I'll have an opportunity to get stuff written later if I have a brainstorm.

This chapter's title was drawn from the play and film of the same name. When I read it back during editing, the bloody faerie tale vibe made it a fitting choice. It's not technically horror but it IS a dark story. Several of them, really. The play is the darker, with a downright depressing series of events. The recent reboot film strips out the most shocking and depressing elements but is still a pretty OMG tale, especially when you look at the underlying messages. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend both versions, and both the original and more recent films.

Next chapter, we're catching back up with Violet. Gotta find out what happened with Tate in the market square.