All The Better to Eat You With

The werewolf had gripped Cerise like there was something in her that could save him. Save them both. But they were both running. Both burning. Grey felt the fire lick his back, and knew he had to let her go. He would take the trail of Eyes with him. Cerise Aisling had been hunted enough. The pink spider web-looking scars trickled down her collarbone, and the blood had nearly dried on her lips. She whispered something that sounded like his name.

‘Grey…’

‘Cerise, I’m not coming with you, wee rose. The Eyes will follow me. Head back. Find the Reds. Do anything in your power to get away from me.’

Cerise’s eyes flickered with something that sounded like, I knew you were going to say that.

‘Big bad hero, aren’t you Grey?’

‘If you hear me howling, they’re on my trail.’

‘So, you leave me alone again. In the woods.’

‘Where the wolves prowl.’

‘Grey…what really happened to my grandmother? She never leaves her house. This path is hardly trodden.’

The werewolf named Grey sat back and rubbed his forehead. ‘The Eyes happened. You know what they do. This is their forest now.’

‘Ever since the pigs got control…’

‘I know. And you’re fully red my dear little Cerise. What chance do you have? They will haul you off with the stomp of a hoof.’

‘You’re no match for them,’ Cerise said, to the werewolf named Grey. She wrapped her silk scarf tightly around her head, then vanished into the trees. Not one for goodbyes, Grey noted. But he had to move in the direction of the Eyes. Had to lure them away. Cerise would reach the Reds and alert them on the sudden raids. Roundups they liked to call them. Grey had been stationed in the northern region of the woods. Something had felt off. There was an elderly lady sitting in the front room of her cottage, knitting. Her relationship to the Reds were unknown, but there had been confirmed sightings of a hooded Red moving on the path leading to the cottage for weeks. Whether she was a spy or not, the area was exposed, and the Eyes moved in. Any hindrance of their roles and their lives were at stake. It was a dangerous neck of the woods to live. The piglets and snakes from the State ordered removals. The Eyes were never unsuccessful. Sure, a couple of innocents tended to be caught in the crossfire, but what? A good outlaw was a dead outlaw. That’s what they oinked to one another. But Grey found they were wrong. The squirrel’s, moths, voles, deer, mice and grouse only wanted a home. Somewhere to live. They did not choose such a life. To be hunted. Just as humans do not choose. Do they? How could any human choose to live in such places? Where death circles them every day? But the pigs did not care for they ate too much and became too big. Their bigness made them feel important. Their importance made them enemies. Their enemies they named Red. They used the Eyes and sought out a new way of life. If the animals were not as big or important as them, they wanted them gone. Find them in the woods, hide beneath a bush until your snout picked up the scent of a Red. The hooded Red, Cerise, whom we have met, had such a scent that the werewolf Grey was endeavoured to even see her. He knew she was a ‘she’ from the cherry-like warmth only human girls gave off. Unlike the muddy aftertaste his co-workers offered him. Some of them with the faint whiff of lamb wool about them, some with the scent of blood they carried from fearsome Reds. But the wolves forgot. As did the foxes. No matter how quickly they rolled over and showed their bellies, the pigs, snakes and rats had become far too greedy. Far too righteous. Self-righteous. It consumed them. They saw anyone but them as Red. And Red meant removal, or in some cases, red meant death. Grey found the bloodthirst wearisome now. Some vixens and sows had cubs at home. Did they not shudder at the thought of a stranger approaching their hovels dressed in a cloak, disguising their teeth, and lounging for the smallest at the first sight of redness? It was in their eyes, the pigs oinked. You could sense the rebellious redness in their eyes. Hark if it even made sense. The snakes did not need sense, they only needed something to swallow in one go.

Cerise travelled home on a rickety tram, eyes casting fearlessly out onto the paths and trees they passed. The driver had made a face which quirked into a smile and let her on. A dangerous move these days. She was grateful. She let her thoughts wander to Grey the werewolf, who had not turned her in, but fought with her back-to-back. A traitor to his command, and his higher-ups. A sin worthy of treason. And boy, would the axe come. Whilst the Eyes followed Grey’s false trail, and their snouts lost hope, Cerise would make it back to the Reds. Her family was there. Cliff, her little brother, was her only hope in such a bleak world. She knew her grandmother Merry had money saved up over the years, antiques, silken quilts, silver blades. She owned a ship on Kynance Cove and had lectured many pupils at top universities. She had made a name for herself in education. Another enemy of the State of Pigs. Cerise should have seen the attack coming, but she was sure Grandma Merry would be safe. She was forced to think again. Cerise would not live another day if anything happened to her sweet Cliff, a boy of only nine years old. She had a plan. With enough cash to last them months, and a way out, they could leave of their own accord. Safely, with food. They would have loaded Merry’s boat with as many Reds as they possibly could, and the taste of freedom would be on their tongues. Alas, the Eyes had moved in. Grandma Merry wouldn’t be seen again. Cerise’s journey’s, thought disguised, had led the Eyes straight for their target. She was relying on the word of a werewolf, to delay a command of Eyes and steer the Reds away from the snapping jaws. Pigs will eat you bone and all, you know.

‘Cerise…’ Grey had said, in the shadow of a willow tree. ‘I can’t see it in you. In your eyes.’

‘What? My inhumanness? My bird of a passage energy?’

‘I can’t see the red. You know, the red. What they say.’

‘What do you see then, Grey?’

‘I see a whole other thing. A… a universe of…love. I see love.’

‘What big eyes I must have, wolf.’

‘Hah. What big teeth you have too. You know they hate that. Harder to digest.’

‘The State of Pig and Snake?’

‘Make yourself indigestible,’ Grey had said to her. Cerise had thought of stories on the web. Humans and animals had both made themselves unlikeable in ways. Marked their skin, removed their fur, became louder, became bigger. Cerise gripped onto the hooded cloak, and brushed dirt off her dress. The trees waved as the tram drove along. She thought of the fire that had licked their backs, and thought, if the Reds sharpened their teeth with as much vigour as the pigs said they did then it was all the better for the Reds to eat them with, wouldn’t you agree? Leading to a happily ever after!

The End.