• Red


    She walked through the forest, foreboding, the forest of death. Bones of the long forgotten covered the floor as their screams filled the air. She wasn’t scared; she’d been here so many times before it didn’t faze her. Her name? Red. Why was she in this God forsaken place? A weekly trip to her Grandmothers run down house. She made sure her katana was sharp and secure; she had often had to fight to get out, her white dress, stained with the blood of the past. It’s how she got her name.
    A rustling noise, she turned… nothing, scanning the forest clearing… nothing.
    “Leave my forest--”
    “Who’s there?” she demanded, knowing that even a slight hint of fear in her voice would bring certain death… but no answer came. It must’ve been her imagination… might of… She turned and came face to face with a giant, white wolf spirit.
    “What are you doing in my forest, hu-man?”
    She looked it in the eye, a red eye, overflowing with hatred. A constant flow of blood poured from its mouth, leaving red pools on the dead floor.
    “I’m going to my grandmothers house, she lives in the centre of the forest,” she swiped her katana at the wolf spirits neck, inches away, but the wolf jumped high into the trees… waiting… nothing… a step… another, anticipating an attack, but no attack came. Her journey continued unseen and undisturbed… for now.
    A kodama, it was following her. Another, it was beside her. Peculiar little creatures, a sign that the forest is plentiful. But this meant nothing to Red. She swung the scabbard of her katana at the kodama but they disappeared before she could hit them. They appeared on the tree branches on each side of her, more of them. They laughed at her, mocked her, yet made no sound. Red just ignored them, not in the mood to amuse the forest dwellers.
    She walked on and the floor covered in dead leaves and twigs turned to gravel, she had arrived. The air was cold. It was too quiet. Her grandmother usually came too greet her upon arrival… but there was only silence… She made her way to the battered door. Part of the frame had been ripped away and the door’s top hinge was missing. The door creaked open invitingly. A step, water? Red looked at her feet. Blood… lots of fresh blood.
    "Grandma?" no reply
    "Hahahahahaa," it was sinister, yet maternal, like her grandmothers laugh, only tinted with joyous hate. A shadowy figure slowly trudged towards her. Light shone on the face, briefly. The mouth was twisted into an evil smile and the eyes clouded over. Blood covered the face and dyed most of the long, silver hair. As the light moved across the body, it revealed horrible, fatal wounds. The throat, slit, blood flowing freely. The torso ripped open, bloody entrails falling from the wound, and scattered all over the room, as was her brain. The clothes, red and ripped, hanging on to the small, thin, broken frame of a woman, and not just any woman, it was Red’s grandmother. A gentle, kind hearted, peaceful woman. She never did anything to harm anyone. Innocent.
    “Welcome back Red,” her grandmother’s figure collapsed, a giant, white paw on her back, another beside her head. Red, hate filled eyes. Drip. Drip. Drip.
    “She wouldn’t leave. The filthy hu-man was destroying my forest. You helped her… You must die--”
    Red brought her katana close to her. Too slow. Her face cut.
    “You’re quick,” she remarked as she blocked another attack. She swung her katana round, cutting the wolf spirits side. Deep, but not deep enough. Red’s face was showered with blood.
    “Gack--” teeth in her neck. She was suffocating. She dropped her katana, tried to pry the wolfs jaw open, but it only tightened. She fell to her knees, in a pool of her own blood, drenching both her and her dead grandmother. She caught a glimpse of her grandmother’s face. The eyes were no longer clouded but blood poured from them. Crimson tears. The expression was now calm and peaceful, carrying the same maternal smile that Red had known for as far back as she could remember. Red began to cry, something new to her. She’d never suffered such sadness before, not even after the disappearance of her father, a simple woodsman. Now she had an idea of what happened to him…
    “Don’t cry, don’t worry,” comforting words, “You’ll soon be joining her,” twisted comfort. A swipe of razor sharp claws hit Red’s head, ripping through her skull, scattering her brains. She collapsed next to her grandmother, smiled, and the world around her faded to black. The wolf spirit disappeared into a cloud of mist; leaving a single, bloody paw print behind.

    The end