Little Miss in Red

A story, somewhat based on Little Red Riding Hood. More Grown up, changes and editing to come soon.

            The frosted woods were quiet the evening the Little Miss decided to visit him. The silver moon was clouded by a blanket of grey. Luna’s shining rays would not reach him that night, though she hoped to her God that they would. The woman was not little at all, though that is what she was called now days. No one knew her real name, nor had spoken it, not since she had cast it away.

            In point of fact The Little Miss was quite tall. Her height towered above most men. Her strength was only matched by the fiercest of demons. Strength was not the only thing she possessed. Beauty came to her like the goddess Aphrodite. Her hair, dark as night, was long and flowed with curls. Her alabaster skin smoother than any baby’s bottom. Her brilliant silver eyes outshone even a god’s light. Her voluptuous body was perpetually wrapped in the finest silk dresses of the deepest red. Some men were frightened by her godly attributes; others were so entranced they fell at her feet, in worship, desiring only to please her.

            She walked slowly, meticulously avoiding the freshly fallen leaves, mud and puddles that dared to dirty her. Little Miss knew she was stained enough without the earth trying to show her. She laughed a woman’s laugh, loud and clear. She hushed herself again, reminding herself that she was on a quest. Looking into the basket of foods she carried Little Miss thought of how the Master of Wolves Mansion would love them.

            Little Miss walked down the path soaking in each sight as though it was probably her last. Then came her first sight, the sight that had always haunted her dreams as she awoke from sleep. There was a fork in the road. It was years ago, at the time in the passing of fall to winter that she first met the Master of Wolves Mansion. At that time he was no Master and she was very little. The woman quieted her memories of the Master’s first deceit upon her. She chose the path which so long ago he had said would lead her more quickly to her Grandma’s house. It was too ironic how, after all these years, the lies turned to truth; the Master had cleared the path of the brush and debris that had slowed her as a child.

            It delighted her to walk the path again. At the same time it saddened her that the path led to him and not her Grandmother. Her sweet Grandmother who had been defiled before her eyes by that beast that she had not dared to dream existed. The Little Miss recalled how she felt as a child on that long ago night. Little Miss may have not been able to say it so eloquently, but she remembered how she felt as she watched from the closet while the beast clawed its way into her Grandmother. In all her life, her emotions had not known anger. No rise in temperament; she had only known horror as a child. Yet in this moment her anger had nearly met its highest possible level. Anger turned into euphoria as Little Miss thought of the ways she could exact her grandmother’s justice from the Master of Wolves Mansion.

            Soon she reached the front steps that had led into a home of sweet delights. Now they cut the path to unholy decadence. She knew not anger in that moment, but anticipation. Her mind jumped and raced as her body calmed itself and rung the bell.

            Little Miss stood patiently, the cold not touching her. She had already been through Death’s icy hands. Neither the coldest winds of the north or the everlasting winters of the south could disturb her. Only the very hottest fiery depths of hell could have affected her. The wind picked up speed in a short attempt to chill her. Little Miss chuckled in defiance.

            Little Miss in her blood red dress looked at the gray brick building. Wolves was large and imposed on the land around it. Stained glass windows reached from the very dirt to the ceiling. Within them horrific scenes of witches, demons and devils marching on the fallen bodies of thousands of knights and angels were forever stained upon the world. Stone carved images of demons, imps and monsters of every fashion were set a top the roof over looking, studying every guest that wished to enter Wolves. Mansion Mansion

            The giant solid wood doors were opened by a small man, hunched over with age. His voice was small and squeaky, but Little Miss heard his words as she could hear every rodent’s voice, “The Master knows you are here. He invites you in with most pleasurable haste.” The Servant showed Little Miss into the Mansion. Room after room the little man went, ever lengthening the distance to the outside. Each room was more and more crowded by objects most men should not know exist. Weapons and books made by gods and for a god’s use alone. These stolen possessions were piled upon one another in towers reaching the ceiling that could not be seen.

            “The Master owns many a rare object. Where does he acquire such things?” Little Miss asked as she stared in awe at the magical artifacts.

            “He has fought many gods and devils alike. They are his trophies of his victory over such beasts.” The servant said opening a pair of heavy wooden doors as tall as the walls they were built into.

            “He must be a beast himself to take on such things.” Little Miss said as she walked into the room. It was a white washed room, large and open. Paintings of the Master hung on the walls. The paintings looked far better than the actual person, his true face being that of a simple cur. A wide marble staircase led to the balcony of the second floor.

            “I am more than a simple beast my dear, Heather,” said the Master, as he appeared upon the stair case. “Servant leave us… the moon is nigh.”

            “Yes Master,” the servant said bowing his old body. He silently left the room through the doors he came through.

            “You remember me then?” Little Miss asked holding her basket close.

            “Of course my dear, in a hundred years filled with a thousand tales I would not forget such a beauty,” the master spoke as he descended the stairs. “The moon is almost ready. Are you?” The Master chuckled and added, “Or are you still just a scared little girl?”

            “You know nothing of me you Beast.” Little Miss said as she and the Master began to circle one another, getting closer with each step.

            “I know of you, and a thousand people just like you; Demon hunters, coming each year for a century now. Each one of you sent by Death to take my life, but you all end your own,” the Master spat after he finished speaking.

            “I am different! I will take your life here tonight.” Little Miss shouted as she leered into his eyes.

            “Different? Different how exactly? By the fact that I sent you down the wrong path as a child so I could get to your grandmother first? By the fact that you watched while I raped and devoured her? I have done much worse to many more. You got off lucky,” the Master growled. “However, you still wear that ridiculous color that you wore as a child… not many do that.”

            “You’re a demon.” Little Miss said as she looked at the ceiling. The ceiling was made of clear translucent glass. The blanket of thick clouds was thinning, silver web like streams flowed into the room. It was if the Moon were a spider spinning its deathly web around her.

            “You think the moon is what makes me change? Think again Heather, I was a wolf when you first met me. The sun was high and its light was warming. Do you remember your name?” the Master asked with a fallacy of genuine interest. “No I suppose the old man took your memories away from you. Why would such a beautiful thing take away something so precious?”

            “Death isn’t precious. I merely made a deal with him so that I could take my vengeance upon you personally.” Little Miss said as her eyes flowed into the Master’s. “Gleipnir , knipe det ny beistet idet jeg have slain din vare trelldommen.” Silver strands produced from the air coiled around the Master’s ankles, wrists and neck. The strands pulled taught and the Master became suspended in air.

            “How did you acquire Gleipnir?” the Master spat as the sliver strands of bondage tightened even more. The Master howled, then his howling turned into growls. His skin became red like fire. Hair grew from every inch of skin covering him in a thick blanket or the finest dark almost black fur. The Master’s eyes became yellow and his pupils red.  The ligaments and bone of his jaw stretched as the teeth grew. “How did you acquire the strands of bondage?”

            “Dear Sir, I acquired them with Freyja’s permission of course. She said I could borrow them if I could successfully slay the Wolf Beast, Fenrir.” Little Miss chuckled. “Fjerne rett arm.” The Master’s right arm left his body with a popping. After the veins were torn asunder orange puss like blood rained down from where the limb no longer existed. “Master, you’ve no idea the pleasure your pain provides my heart.” Little Miss said as she petted the Master’s fore head. “You will not die here tonight. Instead you will live forever in a limbless body, never moving, never living, never dying.” Little Miss plucked a red gem from the basket she carried.

            “Your not going to seal me in such a thing are you?” The Master heaved as his blood ran from his arm.

            “No, this is a memory crystal, made from red amber of Freya’s tears. The Goddess’s tears are powerful. I have found a way to use them as a conduit. Your memories of my past will flow into my mind. I have retained some small amount of my past, yet they are only flashes. I wish to know all of what happened that night.” Little Miss said as she looked into the deep red amber color of smoothed stone.

            “You would have my mind enter yours, you will surely remember your past, but your body will be mine!” the Master chuckled his blood flowing more heavily.

            “Sel dyret’s mind” Little Miss said and the amber glowed a fierce blue. The Master howled as his eyes glazed over. His breathing slowed and his movement stopped. Little Miss knew her spell to stop the Master’s ability to think worked; his mind was a blank as the white snow that had begun to fall outside. “Strømme inn i meg.” The blue glow slowly morphed into a translucent white. A white thread snaked from the Master’s thick blanket of fur. Then another one appeared. Soon dozens grew and crawled through the air into the white glowing stone. “Show me my past.” Little Miss said to the Stone. A white light flashed and the tendrils of white were focused into the woman’s mind.

 

 

            She saw herself as a child, small and delicate. Her eyes were like giant saucers filled with the bluest hue of the ocean. Her hair was like thick golden honey dripping from her head down to her waist. She wore a white dress and a red hood. The child said her goodbye to the mother before she walked out the door. The child carried a basket with her, she reached in and plucked a cookie out and devoured it. The girl merrily giggled and quickly skipped on her way down the autumn road. Her skipping kicked amber and yellow colored leaves into the air, her red hood bouncing along with her.

            She came to a snow white wolf with the voice and poise of a god. His words confused the small child, convincing her to take the path filled with debris. The path was hard for a child to cross. The young one had become tired. She laid down in a patch of flowers. The child began to pick from the infinite colored bounty of wild annuals. Soon the child began on her way again, only more slowly, taking her time to pick one flower of every color she could find. Shortly after she hopped her way back into the woods, some of her coveted blossoms falling behind her.

            After a few hours of traveling through the woods, the sun had become tired and slipped into sleep behind the horizon. The girl made it to a small cottage. The small child walked timidly in whispering for her grandmother to come. The girl heard a growl. She ran into the home. The child continued into the bedroom and hid in the closet. Her grandmother ran in behind her, hushing the child, telling her not to speak. A man came into the dark room sweating and panting.

            He howled in the darkness as his body became that of a beast. He mounted the elderly lady and ate into her. He devoured her as he howled. Red blood stained his muzzle. His eyes glowed red and his body had become fire. As he howled once more, his body exploded. Flames devoured the cabin, burning everything in it. The beast limped off into the wilderness his fur still smoking, singed from his spell to hide what had been.

            A black shadow enveloped the small child, whispering to her. The child said, “Yes,” to the black blanket. Her eyes became silver like the cold sister moon, her hair darkened into the color of death’s dark cloak. She slept until morning when she was found by a kindly woodsman.

 

            Little Miss’s eyes became blue, her heart heaving in her chest. “You killed her… I knew it before, but I could not remember.” She faked a laugh. “Death will not have you, even though I promised him your soul. You are mine, and mine to keep; død aldri berøring seg livet aldri oppbevare seg.” The Master screamed in pain as his limbs bacame rigid. Through his veins the pain spread, burning like ice. His joints locked in place as his heart stopped. The tissue transitioned toa  state of suspened animation. His skin was now impenitrable, nothing, not even time would kill him now. He could however, never move again and his soul would never leave the tissue that bound him to the earth. He would be trapped forever, never knowing death’s cold hand or life’s warm breath. The Master of Wolves Mansion was now just a trophy among the many he coveted so deeply.

 

Author's Note

If you don't like something, even a word, tell me!

Reviews

[ah]

in describing her dresses, i would use deepest of red instead of darkest.... soon she hopped her way into the woods..... i dont like the word soon here because its images shes seeing right now and not us, what i mean by that is soon shouldnt be used just because its not a present tense word, it shows something thats going to happen and if she doesnt remember it then it cant be soon but a new image flowing across the stone.... this is a great writing, i really enjoyed it and it was very in depth, thank u very much for asking me to read, it was a pleasure

[Sseoni]

Wow! What a wonderfully thrilling story! I loved it! It was beautifully written, wonderfully detailed, and greatly descriptive! Oh, the descriptions were abosolutely amazing! The plot of the story was very interesting, making the reader want to read more and more until the very end! Fantastic poem! :D

[Clark]

You asked for it, and lucky for you, i've just finished my exams...
'Flowed with curls' - awkward. try rearranging the sentence to get rid of the 'with'; it makes it seem too passive for the description.

'not since she had cast it away' - the not can possibly awkward. not completely sure, but it rings funny. it might be because...you use had in all of the clauses but the first one ('no one knew her name'). keep it consistent.

"feet in worship (,) desiring"; outshone is one word.

"Looking into the basket of foods she carried, how the Master of Wolves Mansion would love them." comma splice/incomplete clause thing. Looking into the basket, she whats? She has to 'what' with that intro.

"as though it was probably" - the probably throws me off a little. is it necessary? And technically, was should be were.

Watch your comma splices - "It was too ironic now, after all these years, the lies turned to truth for the Master had cleared the path of the brush and debris that had slowed her as a child." Unless the 'now' is supposed to be 'how'. And then i would suggest a semicolon instead of the word 'for' ('truth for the')

"ceiling, that could not be seen." That should be which, or keep that and get rid of the comma. or get rid of the extra words entirely and describe the ceiling like that initially, i.e. the green ceiling (obviously don't use green but invisible or some such).

"said the Master, speaking Little Miss's name, as he appeared upon the stair case." I was thinking sweet sweet awesome, almost got chills after he called her heather, but when you said 'speaking little Miss's name' it felt like a cold shower. obviously the reader gathers he's speaking to her because of the segue into his speech. don't state the obvious too much. also, add a comma before that heather.

"Servant leave us as the moon is nigh." Is Master Fenris telling servant (a comma should be after) to leave because the moon is near or when the moon gets nearer? Clarify.

"almost ready, are you ready?" Too many readys in the span of...4 words. Just the first is fine. Plus, that's a comma splice. Period or semicolon or even a hyphen.

"instead," the Master spat after he finished speaking." He's physically spitting here, yes? If so, use a period after instead.

" if the Moon was " was -> were. watch a handy little AMV called 'I wish I were a lesbian' and you'll be set on that little point of grammar for life.

(Dude. I totally guessed his name right. Go me.) In all seriousness, the Nordic strands you seem to have going on are good, nice continuity and definitely entertaining.

"filled with bluest" THE bluest
"large amounts of amber" that "large amounts of" makes it sound gross; it takes away the carefree ness by making it sound too technical.

" keep, d�d aldri ber�ring seg livet aldri oppbevare seg" unless his name is "d�d aldri ber�ring seg livet aldri oppbevare seg" then you need to nix the comma; period, semicolon or hyphen it.

Careful what you wish for. In all candor, though, I quite liked it. I expected it to be a little longer, I think, but it was short and sweet. I agree with 1809, though; don't force the flow. Read it out loud. One of the best editing tools.

[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

Try not to make Little Miss too haphazard, she seems too tall as if she would stumble. LOL um, but that's just me. Her dress can be described as maroon if you want to have a substitute. The story can use some more flow. I love the storyline and where you are taking us--the reader, especially because all your reads show great imagination. Flow is important. Don't force. :S :D ---kisses, mishy

A very dark retelling of he original story. I like the descriptions of the mansion and in the flashback at the end. I would love to read more.

[Frances O'Neill]

A very fantastic form of a "fairy tale" story. I like how you take the story from childhood to adult. The story is very descriptive and has a lot of appeal.

[Terry]

I like it, especially the description of the setting. You've done a very good job. Keep it up.