Fear of the Wolf
By Jessica Rud
“Sweets for your grandmother again?”
Red froze as the now familiar voice floated through the seemingly peaceful forest and found it’s way to her ears.
She ignored it and continued walking, although she couldn’t stop herself from quickening her pace somewhat.
“You know it’s hopeless, don’t you?” the voice, sickening and smooth, continued to mock her from the shadows of the trees. “Sweets can’t save her. Nothing can save her.”
“Shut up.” Commanded Red through gritted teeth, “Go away.”
“This is my domain, Red.” Hissed the voice, “I’ll stay as long as I wish.”
Red growled under her breath and continued walking.
“Ignoring me, Red? Tad immature, don’t you think? Stop a moment. Talk to me.”
Against her will, Red stopped, her feet suddenly rooted to the ground in involuntary fear as a dark shape emerged from the wood in front of her. Yellow eyes gleamed, and the sharp white teeth were twisted into a very un-wolflike grin.
Red wanted to berate herself for stopping, to tell herself it was silly to be so afraid, but the terror the wolf aroused in here was far grater than could be overcome by any mortal.
“So silent, Red.” Mused the wolf, sauntering to her and circling like a predator circles it’s prey, ‘Haven’t you missed me? You haven’t been through the forest nearly as much lately. Grandma not as important any more?”
“Of course she is.” Muttered Red, trying to ignore the pounding in her chest, “I was afraid…”
“Afraid?” barked the wolf, “Afraid of what? Of me?”
“Yes.” Said Red, clutching her basket of sweets, wishing she was somewhere, anywhere else.
“Oh,” said the wolf, “I don’t think so Red. You’ve nothing to fear from me, do you?” and he changed, from wolf to human as Red blinked, and he was close to her, bending over her, his voice in her ear, his teeth sharp as ever, and his words at once sharp and slippery.
“No Red.” He chuckled, “You know what you’re really afraid of, don’t you? What you’ll see? What will be there? Are you afraid now… Red.”
Red choked. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see. The terror, the injustice was too much.
“Leave.” She whispered, “Please.”
The wolf chuckled again. He backed away from her and grinned, yellow eyes gleaming in the darkening forest light.
“As you wish.” He bowed. And then he was gone.
And Red drew her cloak around her, clutching tight to her basket, and continued down the road to the cottage where her grandmother lived. 
