Little Red Riding Hood - Part 2

Red hit the ground with her arms pinned so that she was unable to catch herself or cushion her fall at all. She landed on the grass, but still, she hit hard. Wolf had a death-grip on both of her arms and landed on top of her, eyes glazed over and mouth forming an evil horrid-smelling grin. Her head hit the ground and for a moment she felt the world spin. Wolf pressed his groin against hers and started to laugh. As he did so, he let go of her arms and reached down to undo her pants with his right hand while he gripped her hair with his left and began to bang the back of her head repeatedly against the ground.

As soon as her arms were free, Red shoved her right hand into the right pocket of her hoodie. She gripped the small snub-nosed .38 revolver tightly and started to pull it out. But Wolf was pressing into her right side with his left shoulder as he fumbled with her pants, making it difficult for her to move her arm and draw the gun out of her pocket. Worse still, the gun seemed to be hanging up on the material of the hoodie itself. She could not get damn thing out! The beating of her head against the ground was nearly knocking her unconscious. She could barely think or see straight. She could feel that her pants were now unbuttoned and that Wolf was apparently busy undoing his own pants.

BLAM! Red fired straight through her pocket into Wolf.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! She blindly fired three more shots, moving the gun around in her pocket as she did so because she couldn't see clearly and didn't know for certain if she was hitting him. Although she could feel him against the gun and almost certainly hit something. It was point-blank, after all, but not being able to see she wasn't taking any chances.

Her father had taught her from a young age that there are certain parts of the body you have to aim for. Shoot too low and you'll just make the person angry, especially if they are on drugs and not feeling the pain like a normal person, but you won't stop them. She wasn't sure, but it felt to her like she was shooting Wolf in the stomach or lower ribs. Higher would be better, but she couldn't move her arm far enough for a shot in the chest.

Wolf stopped banging her head against the ground and let go of her hair. Her eyes began to focus again. She knew Wolf was still on top of her because she could feel him easily enough. But it was dark and she was having trouble seeing clearly. She had only 1 shot left in her 5-shot revolver. She had saved it on purpose in case the first four hadn't done the job. If she needed to shoot again, she wanted to see clearly so she could aim for the head or heart.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her breathing was very rapid and she felt as if she might get sick. Her whole body felt shaky and weak. She had always thought it ironic how the flow of adrenaline makes you feel weak even though they say it actually makes you stronger.

Her eyes were clear now, but the moon was overhead and all she could see of Wolf was his outline above her. He was still on top of her, but his hands were down around his stomach and he just seemed to be hovering there, not moving or doing anything. It seemed like he had one hand on the ground next to her on her right. He seemed to be holding his stomach with his other hand and leaning slightly to his left.

Red pushed him hard with her left hand and threw him off of her so that he fell to his left as she rolled away from him. She jumped to her knees and pulled the gun out of her now shredded and smoking pocket. She aimed it at him and waited for him to make a move.

But he never did. He just laid there beside the curb, eyes open and glassy, like before, and he looked at her. The moonlight shone on half his face now and he looked almost like a ghoul, with empty eye sockets and no expression. His hand was still across his stomach and the other arm was outstretched in front of him where it had been propping him up.

Red kept her gun aimed at his face. She knew she should aim for the chest, but for some reason she really wanted to shoot him in the face. It was more personal somehow, more satisfying. And if he moved even a little bit, that would be all the excuse she was looking for.

But he never did. Big, bad Wolf was dead.

To be continued ...

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Little Red Riding Hood - Part 1

Little Red Riding Hood

Little Red Riding Hood, as everyone called her, was 15 years old, 5'8", thin, blonde, and beautiful like a fashion model. Her real name was Katie, but no one had used that name for years. She had a heart-shaped face with perfect cheekbones and wide, large, blue eyes. Her long blonde hair flowed down to just about the middle of her lower back. She parted it in the middle. Her eye makeup was heavy and dark, like a Kardashian, only less slutty. The lipstick on her perpetually smiling mouth was bright red, as was the hoodie she wore every day over her tight white tank top and denim shorts. Her boots were tall and black, up to her knees, with 4 inch heels. They weren't comfortable shoes to be wearing as she walked back and forth for hours at the corner of Shady Grove and Briarcrest. But they served their purpose. It was her corner. She walked it every single night. Shady Grove could be a rough place for a girl of 15, but it was the only neighborhood she had ever known.

Occasionally cars would stop, windows would roll down, drivers would speak to her, invite her to get in. And sometimes she did get in.

One dark night, as Little Red Riding Hood was leaning in the window of a Porsche and talking to Brandon, a 17-year-old boy she knew from school, a strange black boy approached her. He was wearing black jeans, black shoes, a black shirt and a black hoodie, with the hood up over his head obscuring most of his face. All that could be seen of his features in the darkness were the whites of his eyes. And his snarling teeth, when he spoke.

"Yo, bitch," he barked "what you doin' out here dressed like that? You workin'?" He hoped.

Red Riding Hood looked over at him. She hadn't even heard him walk up. She wondered where he came from. He clearly wasn't from this neighborhood or she would have recognized him. She knew everyone around her particular 'hood.' He was a total stranger to her.

"Red, I gotta go," Brandon said, checking the clock on his dash. "I'll see you tomorrow." And he drove away into the shadowy night, with the light from the huge Spring moon reflecting off the bright red paint of his Porsche.

The black boy stepped closer to Red Riding Hood until he was just a little too close. "Cuz if you is workin' then I is buyin', know what I mean?" He smiled.

Red did not smile. She stepped back slightly and put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. As she did so she noticed that the boy also had his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "Who are you?" she asked him.

I'm Wolf

"I'm Wolf," he said with an overconfident sneer. "No one could pronounce the name my momma gave me so everybody just call me Wolf. Who you be?"

Wolf was tall, at least 6'2", and skinny. And there was something about him that made Little Red Riding Hood feel very uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure yet what it was.

'Who you be?' That bothered her, too. Red didn't know anyone who talked like that who wasn't poor or pretending to be gangster, and she wasn't really into either one.

"I'm Red," she replied somewhat annoyed. "Everybody calls me Red. And no I'm not workin'. I live here. Do you live around here, too?"

"Girrrrrrrrl," Wolf drawled, "you mos' definitely workin' it!" he laughed, and he took another step forward.

"Look, I gotta go home. It's late and I have homework ..." Red took a step back and turned slightly to show that she was leaving.

"Whaaaat?? Wait, where you goin'? Girl, don' leave me here. Don' leave me with a broken heart. You FINE. You SO fine!" Wolf said, and he took two steps forward until he was right in Red Riding Hood's face. It was then that she could see into Wolf's eyes. They were glassy eyes, solid black and watery. They were the eyes of a man high on something. Worse than that, his breath smelled like rotting flesh.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," Red sputtered, "but I have to go home now."

"Oh no," Wolf said, pulling his hands out of his pockets. "Don't go, baby. Don't go. Stay here wit' me."

And then he grabbed her arms with both hands and pushed her to the ground.

(To Be Continued)

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