Little Red Riding Hood
Long, red velvet, sweet like blood on a pale scrawny child, one of the prettiest creatures alive—so pretty that it disgusts me—one look at her face could swallow you into another dimension, but only one was immune to this effect. On the day of the cruel deed, this child known as Little Red Riding Hood was headed to help her sickly vulnerable grandmother. She wandered upon a dreary cold forest where only a single dim ray shot through a crevice in the trees as the sun was about to set with her being unaware of the trap she was about to walk into. All kinds of deadly creatures—fiends from hell—are awakened at night, especially the wolf who was growing weaker by the minute because his sad measly stomach hadn't eaten for days.
