Hunt - Red Riding Hood Retold

Part 5

FIVE

It was nigh on midnight by the time Rosa left Edda's cottage, full of far more than soup. It had been the old woman's name day, and every member of her family had visited her with gifts and blessings. Edda had insisted Rosa eat some of the cakes Edda's toothless maw could no longer devour, and tell her what they tasted like.

Then she'd prepared the medicinal tea her grandmother had sent, and read to Edda from the great bible the Baron himself had sent her. Tales of men rising from the dead, when even the weakest witch knew such things were not possible. Magic could only accomplish so much.

When Edda's eyes drifted shut and she began to snore, Rosa dared to close the book and set it back on the table. Rosa wrapped her cloak around herself and set out for home.

Halfway there, she wished she'd brought a lantern, for the cloudy sky and blowing snow made it too dark to see, but the wind would have only blown it out. Fortunately, the cold meant everyone kept their fires burning through the night, and enough light peeped through the gaps in the shutters that she could discern the houses.

Even if she hadn't lived in the village her whole life, she'd have known her family cottage by the smell of soup – evidently Lule had made it, with some to spare. She pushed the door open, careful to make as little noise as possible, and closed it behind her.

Rosa frowned. The fire burned low in the grate – as though no one had stoked it before going to bed. Strange. And the soup still hung over the coals, bubbling sluggishly. That wasn't normal, either. Inside, the smell of soup was so strong it was almost overpowering, but there was a whiff of something else lurking beneath it, too. Something...rotten.

Like the Baron's slaughterhouse close to Midsummer feast day.

Ah, it was late. She could help her mother search for the offending piece of meat in the morning, when it was lighter. Now, she should rekindle the fire, set the soup somewhere to cool, then head up to bed.

She threw a handful of kindling on the coals, then grabbed a cloth to unhook the cauldron from the fire. She could barely lift it – why, the cauldron was almost full, as if her family had prepared dinner, then not eaten it.

Rosa felt the air behind her shift, almost imperceptibly, and whirled to face whatever had caused it, swinging the cauldron around with her.

Soup splashed out, covering the enormous, ghostly shape that was there one moment, before it retreated into the darkness again.

Rosa seized a torch and thrust it into the fire until the pitch caught, then turned to face whatever it was.

Blue eyes burned in the darkness, where someone crouched low, ready to spring. Someone, or something?

"Show yourself," Rosa hissed, hoping she sounded braver than she felt. "I said show yourself, coward!"

She hadn't imagined it. Something huge and white came soaring out of the shadows. Something with teeth bigger than any human she'd ever seen.

Rosa's grip tightened on her torch, splinters digging into her fingers, but she didn't care. The oozing blood would be the monster's undoing, not hers, as she summoned her magic and swung the torch.

The flaming end of the torch collided with the creature, and a gust of air came from nowhere, adding power to the blow so that it carried the creature past Rosa and into the fireplace itself, where the flames blazed to life.

The creature yelped, then howled, as it struggled to get up with its white fur on fire. A streak of orange and white and red, it fled for the door, hitting it with such force that the door flew open, releasing the beast into the blizzard outside.

Rosa blinked, trying to make sense of what she'd seen. In her mind's eye, it had been a giant, white wolf, like something out of a fairytale. A scary fairytale.

A red and white wolf, her memory reminded her. The red of blood...

Her hand flew to her mouth as the leaping flames lit the scene she hadn't seen until now. A pair of feet stuck out from under the kitchen table, wearing Lule's house slippers. Father lay behind the door, blind eyes staring at the rafters as his hands seemed to reach for his throat, which was no longer there.

Mother lay facedown behind the woodpile, as if the creature had brought her down as she tried to run. Her neck, too, was a b****y ruin. Beside her was a basket of straw, which had started to smoke. Sparked by the beast running past her with its fur ablaze.

Even as she hesitated, the basket flared up fully, flames l*****g at the curtains.

Rosa's weary mind was slow to make sense of it all. Her family was dead, some giant wolf had killed them, and now her home was on fire.

Her home was on fire. And filling with smoke.

If she didn't want to join them in death, she had to get out. Now.

Coughing, Rosa staggered for the door, pausing only to grab the poker. If the wolf waited for her outside, she'd take the bastard with her to hell for this.

But outside there was nothing but clean snow, with no sign of the beast, or anyone else, either.

"Fire!" she coughed out, hoping someone would hear her. "Fire! Help!"

Doors began to open along the street, spilling light out onto the snow.

But it was too late. By the time the sun rose the next day, all that remained of her family home was a burned out shell, where her family had breathed their last.

The other villagers headed home, to breakfast and all the normal things they did every day.

Rosa knelt in the ashes and swore an oath of vengeance. The beast would die at her hand for what he'd stolen from her.