The orange sun set over a dark depressed rotten forest. This once flourishing green haven now decayed in the damp soggy swaps. The birds all flew into the clear sunset away from the darkness that now beset the forest. Thunderous grey clouds made their way across the orange sky ready to release an explosive storm.
Beneath this desolate sky just outside the reaches of the forest stood an old stone cottage, smoke roared from the chimney above the straw roof. Inside an old man sat in a rocking chair and read a bed time story to his three grandchildren.
"What big teeth you have" he read from the book. "All the more to eat you with" he read with a snarl and a grimace upon his face. The youngest held onto her brother's arm scared at the image of Little Red Riding Hood being eaten by the wolf. All is well with the climax of the story when Little Red and her Grandmother are pulled to safety from the wolf's stomach.
Grandad ended the story with a ‘happily ever after’, bent down to plant a kiss on each of their foreheads. He pulled the curtains shut and kept the stare of the monstrous trees away from his grandchildren. The moon rose, its glare broke through holes in the clouds. The curtains could not contain the ghostly silhouette of the haunting trees whaling in the wind.
Like good little children they drifted off to sleep. The wind from the storm scratched at the house, as it battered the garden fence back and forth until a moment of silence the gate stopped tapping at its lock. The wind had not died down, their Grandad had not left the house, and so what could have caused the gate to halt?
The eldest walked over to the door. "Where are you going?" the youngest whispered.
"I'm going to get Grandad, someone's outside" the floor boards creaked as he crept to his Grandad. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. He knocked again but still no answer. His Grandad wasn't there, he had already gone downstairs to investigate the strange goings on outside. The boy stood at the top of the stairs and listened to his Grandad fumble about downstairs.
The youngest looked outside again and this time saw a small dark figure stood by the gate draped in a hooded cloak. He ran to his brother "There's someone outside" he trembled with fear.
“That’s just the wind blowing the trees it’s probably just the shadow of the trees” he laughed in reply. To help his brother he went back into the room to confront this hooded shadow. He peered out into the front garden “See there’s no one there” whatever his little brother thought he had seen was not there anymore.
Suddenly they both heard a vase smash on the floor downstairs and a few large bangs against the walls, almost as if someone was fighting. There were no voices only the reoccurring thuds.
The eldest now concerned scurried back towards the top of the stairs “Grandad” he spoke calmly. He repeated himself hoping for a reply.
The youngest again glared out of the window, the hooded shadow made another appearance, this time it made its way from the entrance of the house to the front gate. Unable to take his eyes away from the shadow it turned around and caught his stare. The shadow gave away no features, apart from the deathly glow of dark crimson eyes. He soon fell to the floor with a pale white face overwhelmed with fear.
Their sister woke up amongst all the noise, unaware of what was happening. The eldest came back into the room “we need to go and see if Grandad is ok, he won’t answer me.”
“I just saw it again” the youngest cried.
“Ok if we all stay together we will be fine, come on get your dressing gowns and let’s go downstairs.” He helped his sister out of her bed and picked his little brother up. He grabbed the torch from top of the wardrobe where Grandad kept it for emergencies.
Huddled together all three slowly made their way downstairs with the torch leading the way, there was no sign of Grandad at the bottom of the stairs. The youngest caught a glimpse of someone lying down on the porch as the light flicked around the dusty old cottage. “Hey, there, I think that’s Grandad.”
“Why is he lying on the floor?” his sister asked.
“Grandad” the eldest whispered.
There was no movement, they crept ever closer to see if he would respond. “Grandad” all three took turns to whisper his name, but there was no reply. They reached the entrance of the porch where his body lay still. The eldest pushed the other two away so they would not have to see the horror of him lying on his back motionless, there was no signs of a struggle just the look of terror upon his face and in his eyes almost as if had seen the devil. Someone so frightening had caused him to collapse and life to weep away from his frail body.
The boy looked up outside the porch where the hooded figure stood watching by the gate, those crimson eyes staring through him. Goosebumps shivered throughout his body, he felt he could no longer stay in the house waiting for the hood to return. He turned back to his brother and sister, took their hands and ran to the rear of the house.
“Where are we going?” they both asked.
“We need to leave this house now, let’s go into the woods” he replied back.
“But why” both spoke in unison.
“Grandad wants us to play hide and seek, he thought it would be fun to play in the dark.” He knew pretending this to be a game would be the easiest way to get them out of the house on such a dark and gloomy night. He looked back over to his Grandad the hood now stood at the front door; he knew he had to leave now.
“When I say go let’s all run as quickly as we can into the woods.”
They both nodded to agree.
“Ready, set, go,” they all ran out of the house and into the gusty night air. They ran across the muddy back garden and into the forest that backed onto the house. It was dark and moody, everywhere they looked trees gathered around them. The branches crackled in the wind, the leaves blew from the limbs of the trees and into their faces. The air became colder, the fog became thicker. Owls hooted at the moon hidden behind the rain soaked clouds.
They let go of each other’s hands as they ducked and jumped over puddles, fallen trees. Their shoes sodden with mud became heavier to run in. They did not look back they did not talk. The youngest brother caught his trousers on a fallen branch. He twisted his ankle and fell into the fog, hidden from his siblings who ran without him unaware of his unfortunate fate. He lifted his head and tried to shout, but his mouth was full of moss and dead leaves. Next to him lay a dead bird, worms wriggled around its corpse and insects crawled through the eye socket and beak.
The forest went silent, not even the hungry insects made a noise. He lay there scared, abandoned all alone. Footsteps slushed through the sodden ground behind him. For a moment the moon broke through the clouds, the hooded shadow appeared within the fog. He was too afraid to move or scream, he waited for the shadow to move closer and closer. Worms squirmed through his fingers, more and more of them came from out the soil. The ground softened, his body started to sink into the mud. The shadow now stood in front of the moonlight and eclipsed him in darkness. The ground hardened around him, the worms huddled over his neck. The weight of them made it difficult to breath. The shadow halted at his saturated feet, it lifted its head and its dark crimson eyes pierced through his.
The eldest brother and his sister had made some distance through the forest. Their brothers scream echoed throughout the forest. The wind picked up, the crows screeched as they fled the ever increasing fog. He held his sister as she cried into his arms. He caught sight of the shadowy hood floating amongst the trees, it almost glided without touching the floor. The moon made another appearance from within the clouds. The light lay upon a rundown cottage just behind them, the fog made a pathway almost inviting them in.
“Quick run into the house” he pushed his sister forward. The shadow darted through the trees quicker and quicker sensing their urgency to escape. The wooden door opened to the girl as she made her approach. The brother took another look around for the shadow, but it had disappeared. A crow came back and sat on a tree in front of him. He and the crow locked eyes; it squawked and ruffled its feathers. He sensed a fright within the crows shrills squawk. He ran to his sister, her hand held out ready to grab him. He reached the entrance to the cottage, he smiled, but her face turned to horror the shadow was behind him and within a breath he was grabbed and taken into the depths of the forest. The door slammed shut and flung her across the hallway.
On her front she opened her eyes, the dust stirred as she slowly gained her breath, plucking up the courage to move, knowing she needed to find somewhere to hide she climbed to her feet. The atmosphere was different to outside, the air was warm, and the dust was thick. She found it difficult to breath. The cottage was small not to many places to hide. She scrambled into the nearest bedroom; an old rusty bed lay against the back wall. The decayed sheets hung over the bed just enough to touch the floor. She crawled under, waited and silently prayed.
The door to the cottage scraped across the floor, the shadow had finished with her brother it had come for her. It followed her footprints within the dust. It knew her exact hiding place.
“Oh! Grandmother, what big ears you have” she heard a voice speak, it did not come from the shadow, it felt like the house had spoken.
The shadow walked closer and closer, she saw the feet of the figure. The feet of a little girl bare, muddy, maggots wriggled on the empty nail bed and ate away at the rotten toes.
“But Grandmother, what big eyes you have” the house spoke again.
She scurried against the wall, shaking terrified of what stood in front of her. The shadow did not move, only the maggots refused to stay still. Fearing the worst she decided to make a run for it. Taking a deep breath she braced herself and shot from out the bed. She tripped over the shadow but it evaporated into ash. The shadow simply disappeared; she got back up and ran to the front door. The handle would not move the door had locked itself. She turned around and saw another room, sliding her hand down the splintered door she walked inside.
“Oh! Grandmother, what big teeth you have” the cottage spoke for one last time.
She entered the room and was overpowered by the stench of death. She had walked into the lounge; dried blood stained the wooden floor. The moon again made an appearance; it released the shadows of the room. A corpse sat in a mouldy chair in the corner. A rat rested in the lap of the corpse feasting on its foul decayed flesh.
The crow from before mounted upon the window, it peered through the glass. The door shut behind her, she turned but no one was there. The moon once more hid behind the clouds. The room became engulfed in darkness. She inched closer to the corpse; she could hear the rat enjoying its meal. A mystical crimson glow shone from where the corpse’s eyes once sat. Unlike her bother she was not scared she was taken by it, she was mystified by its beauty. She got closer and closer; the rat spooked jumped from the corpse and scurried under a table.
The wind stopped, the warm air became colder and the dust lightly glided across the room. Her breath danced in the now icy callous air, her heart pumped with warm blood as she forgot her fears. The room became colder, the dust thickened. Her fear returned to her flushed face, the corpse twitched, a breath from its wretched mouth danced with hers.
“All the more to eat you with” the corpse growled.
