Straying from the path

Authors Adrienne J. Odasso, Jennifer Moore, Batya Deene, Fraser Sherman, Angela Rega, Imogen Howson, Jo Thomas, Joselle Vanderhooft, Jessica Tudor, Greg O. Weatherford, Hilary J. Nowack, Genevieve Valentine, Skadi meic Beorh, H. Anne Stoj, David Sklar, Lee Pletzers, and Teresa Wymore re-tell the story of Little Red Riding Hood in poetry and prose, illustrated by the art of Anna Repp. In these stories, Red is sometimes innocent, sometimes less so; and the wolf is sometimes a monster, and most often human, monstrous or not.

My tasty little tale in this antho is a lovely werewolf peice, called A Splash of Red. The following excerpt is from my original file, not the published version in the book.

First line: Little red riding hood was dead.

Here's an excerpt for you:

Her cell phone rang as she opened the door. In the occupied stall someone grunted and Selene suppressed a laugh. As the door self shut, she thought she heard a cry of pain and heard something thump the stall. She was tempted to go back in and offer assistance or whatever but the photo ID of an elderly woman with the kindest eyes in history and warmest smile to match, stopped her.

She flipped open her phone as the bathroom door quietly thumped shut blocking any further sounds, “Hello?”

“Hello dear, how is everything?”

Selene smiled. “It’s all good Nana. There’s a lot of people here.” She walked away from the bathroom. The guy in the leather jacket watched her. She pretended not to see him. His focus on her was intense and a little worrying. He had been here a while and not once, did she see him look at a single photo. Every time her sight found him, he was looking at her or someone close to her.

“Now don’t you be nervous, you hear?”

“I know, Nana.”

“The party of your life.”

“Only one of them, Nana. There’ll be others.” Selene changed course wanting to put distance between her and seventies throw back dude.

“What’s wrong dear? You sound down.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Poo-cocky.”

Selene laughed. Nana was the only person she knew who used that term. It was also the hardest word Nana spoke.

“Is, what’s-his-name, Brad still being a blind man?”

“I think he was born without eyes, Nana,” she said. She was about to say gay, but Nana would probably think she meant he was happy. Speaking of Brad, where was he? She wanted the comfort of a familiar person at her side in case the guy wearing the leather tried to make a move.

“Well, if you want to leave, I’m only on the other side of the woods.”

“I know Nana.”

The woods she referred to was a Nature Reserve that led to a graveyard and then the highway beyond. Across the highway rows of suburbia stretched out into the distance. At night the highway was fairly bare and crossing was not an issue, there was also an overhead bridge available. It was also a good short cut and she had always used the bridge. Walking though the woods at night was not the safest option.

“Are you there, dear?”

“Sorry Nana, I was a million miles away.”

“Well, you get back quickly and introduce yourself to as many people as possible.”

“Okay Nana. I will. Bye.”

“Goodnight dear.” Nana killed the connection.

Selene pocketed the phone. She walked through the main hall and climbed the steps to the upper level. Brad was no where to be seen, not that she was seriously looking for him. She looked over the banister looking down on the main floor crowd. Leather jacket guy was down there. Thankfully he wasn’t looking at her. He was walking toward the Ladies bathroom. He stopped just outside the door.

A large woman in her mid forties gave him a look Selene couldn’t see clearly from this distance but the body language and mouthed words were clear. Pervert, get away from the door. The guy held his hands up in a surrender pose and backed away. A few people watched him and from the front entrance, one of two large black guards stepped from the lobby and into the room.

Finally someone was going to do something about that guy. She turned away not wanting to watch in case his eyes found her. The handful of people up here were speaking in hushed tones. Each held an empty glass. She guessed the waiter didn’t come up here very often, or not at all.

A woman screamed.

Downstairs.

Everyone turned.

The scream was a shrill of pain and agony.

Down below, the bathroom door crashed open and the large woman who had words with leather jacket guy, stumbled out. Her dress was ripped open. Blood spat from large gashes and it pumped profusely from one torn breast. The woman dropped to her knees. Her scream dying to silence as she stared numbly at herself. Her body heaved with each breath.

Seconds ticked by in complete silence. No one spoke. No one moved. Shock gripped everyone’s attention.

The woman on her knees slowly looked up. Her arms rose forward, fingers stretched out, seeking someone to help.

Only one person stepped forward and it was the guy in the leather jacket.

A moan escaped her as she reached for him.

The bathroom door exploded off the hinges and landed on the woman, knocking her face first to the floor. Under the door she was spread eagled. She struggled to get up. The door titled as she managed to get onto her elbows. She started shrieking, panic and realization ran a bloody course of madness through her nerves. Her eyes were wide, fear soaked tears dribbled down and over her fleshy cheeks.

A couple of men rushed forward to help her. Selene noticed the leather jacket guy back away from the action. He turned his head, left and right as if searching for someone. She watched him closely as he moved through the crowd at a quick pace. He reached a window and looked--

A howl ripped forth from the bathroom.

--slowly the leather jacket guy turned. Selene’s eyes followed his as he stared at the bathroom which was now door-free. The room beyond was soaked in blackness so deep it hid everything from view.

Something had smashed the lights.

The two volunteers grabbed the woman’s arms. Both looked at the blackness in the--

A snort, followed by a low, deep rumbling growl that vibrated through the floor, stairs and Selene’s bones.

--bathroom. They had the woman half way out when slowly something from the movie The Howling, only bigger and uglier stepped out of the blackness and into the light. Top lip curled back. It climbed the fallen door.

The woman screamed, breaking the paralysis gripping the art lovers. The two men dropped her arms and backed away slowly trying not to alarm the animal.

It walked forward, deep brown fur stringy, bloodshot eyes, massive chest, muscular legs and shoulders. The beast was pure muscle. The head was large with a long snout and thick jaws. It stopped, front paws on the woman’s upper back. It howled, rose up on its hind legs and for a moment it stood like a man, then came crashing down, front paws landed hard on the back of the lady’s head. The crack of bone echoed through the main room. Blood leaked from the woman’s eyes, nose and mouth.