Everyone knows the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. The story about a kind and gentle girl who travelled through the woods to visit her sick grandmother. During her innocent journey, she was stopped by a foul wolf called The Big Bad Wolf.
The wicked wolf could have gobbled her up there and then but he cunningly decided to overtake Little Red and reach her grandmother’s house first.
When he arrived, he ate the old woman in one bite and he put on her favourite nightgown, hoping to play a sinister trick on the girl who would shortly follow. When Little Red arrived, she quickly saw through the wolf’s disguise but before she could shout for help, the Big Bad Wolf gobbled her up too.
Luckily for Little Red and her grandmother, a huntsman happened to be walking by. The heroic huntsman killed the bad wolf and, miraculously, the little girl and her gran climbed out of the creature’s belly unharmed.
Ten years after Little Red Riding Hood was almost eaten by the dreaded wolf, she had grown into a kind, young woman. She still wore a red cloak and people still preferred to call her Red rather than her birth name.
Despite her awful and near-death experience a decade earlier, Red continued to travel through the woods to visit her grandmother. In fact, every day, no matter the weather.
On one particularly cold day, Red entered the cottage, her wet crimson cloak clung to her shivering skin.
“Morning, Grandmother,” Red called.
“Good morning, dear,” Grandmother smiled warmly as she sat by the fire with her knitting. “Be careful, you’re dripping water on the floor.”
“I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up.”
“It doesn’t matter, dear. I only mentioned it because I didn’t want you to slip and fall. With my bad back, if I tried to help, we’d both fall down.” Grandmother chortled cheerfully to herself.
Red smiled, her grandmother hadn’t changed at all. She took off her boots and cloak, and put them by the fire to dry. Then she mopped the rain spatter on the floor.
“Did you sleep well?” Red asked.
“Not really,” Grandmother tried to make herself comfortable in her chair. The seven cushions did not seem to help. The old woman sighed, “My pains are giving me a lot of bother. Don’t worry. I imagine they will pass soon.”
Since she was gobbled up by the Big Bad Wolf, Grandmother’s health had only declined. Red had faced the same terrible ordeal but people presumed her young heart had helped her to recover quickly.
In the last couple of years, her grandmother had barely been able to rise from her bed without help. Her cottage had become a prison and only Red made the effort to venture into the woods to help her.
As Grandmother continued knitting, Red started the day’s chores. She made her grandmother’s breakfast, tended to the fire, dusted the house and washed all the dirty laundry. She also baked a meat and vegetable pie for her grandmother’s lunch and dinner.
When all the jobs were done, Red attended to her grandmother. She helped her into the bath, dressed her into some fresh clothes and then half-carried her back to the armchair. Red sat on a stool and massaged her grandmother’s swollen foot. Along with her other pains and aches, Grandmother also had gout.
Red and Grandmother talked for hours. Red talked about the latest news from home while her grandmother shared some of her old stories. The two were laughing by the time the sun was turning the sky crimson.
“Red, there is something I must speak to you about,” Grandmother said. Her tone was rather serious. “I have been working on my will.”
“Gran, I don’t want to talk about wills,” Red avoided her gaze. “Can we please talk about something less somber?”
“I know it’s not a happy topic but you’re not a little girl anymore,” Grandmother smiled. “I hope you weren’t expecting to be looking after an old hag forever.”
Grandmother put her knitting needles aside and held her granddaughter's hands.
“You have done so much for me over the years. Your kindness has kept this old heart beating far longer than it should have.” Red smiled, tears filled her eyes as Grandmother continued, “In my will, I chose you to inherit my home and everything inside. After everything you’ve done, I thought it was a worthy reward.”
Red could not quite believe what she was hearing. Many people believed Red would be the one to inherit but she had never let herself believe the rumours. She was so touched, honoured, her grandmother had chosen her.
“Oh, Gran…” Red began but Grandmother raised her hand. She had not finished.
“But I’ve decided to change my will. You’ve spent so many years in this house because of me, I would hate for it to be an anchor on your life. You have so much potential. I would not want you to waste your life here. I am going to leave my cottage to the forest. The animals and faeries can use it as they wish.”
Red lost her voice, she stayed quiet for a few seconds before she finally smiled.
“I understand, Grandmother. I am happy with whatever you choose. After all, I would not have spent these years caring for you if I didn’t care.” Red squeezed her grandmother’s wrinkled hands, “I think the forest would be honoured to receive such a splendid gift.”
“Thank you, my dear. I have many other treasures to give you in my will. I’m sure they will help you start a new life anywhere you choose.”
“Thank you, Gran.” Red rose, “I will brew us a new pot of tea but please can we talk about happier things?”
“As you wish,” Grandmother chuckled. She smiled, glowing with pride as she watched her granddaughter prepare the tea. She was so thankful to have Red in her life.
Red stayed a little while longer with her grandmother until the disappearing sun beckoned her to start the trip home. She made sure her grandmother had everything she needed, bade her farewell and then left the cottage.
Red knew the path well. She had walked it thousands of times but this time, something made her uneasy. She could not tell what it was that caused her to feel so on edge.
Perhaps only five hundred steps from her gran’s cottage, Red was sure she heard something. She stopped and listened. Every sound, the tweeting of birds, the rustling leaves, the whistling wind, everything sounded rather sinister.
Suddenly, Red heard it. The sound you never want to hear when standing alone in the middle of the woods.
Heavy footsteps.
She knew these weren’t the heavy footsteps of a heavy man. They belonged to something bigger. Something feral.
Her heart seemed to slow as she looked around. She pulled her red cloak around her like a protective shield.
Suddenly, a large wolf prowled slowly across the path. His thick, dark fur barely concealed the muscles beneath. The wolf seemed to not notice Red at all as he walked by. Red tried to retreat backwards, she did not want to give him a chance to notice her.
A very unhelpful twig snapped beneath her boot.
The wolf’s ears flicked in her direction and so did his yellow eyes. He rose onto his hind legs, he stood nearly three meters tall. He reached into a small hard pouch from a belt around his waist, took out a pair of small glasses and put them on his snout. The grey hairs colouring his jaw twitched as he grinned.
“Is that you, Little Red Riding Hood?” The wolf gasped. “My eyes might not be as bright as they once were but I’d recognise your cloak anywhere.”
“It cannot be possible.” Red’s breathing was short. She feared she might faint from fright, she managed to ask, “Are you the Big Bad Wolf?”
“Me? Oh, no.” The wolf shook his head, “That was my brother. We do look alike but apart from that we have nothing more in common.” He blinked at Red through his spectacles, “Do you not remember me? My name is Henry. We have met before.”
Red started to remember the wolf called Henry. After news spread about the Big Bad Wolf and his demise, Henry called on Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother to apologise for his brother’s evil deeds.
While the Big Bad Wolf preyed on any poor folk he prowled upon, Henry was a scholar, more interested in putting his snout in a book than a carcass. Even though Red knew Henry was harmless, she could not forget the fact he was a wolf. Everyone knew what wolves were capable of.
“Yes. I remember you, Henry,” said Red. She anxiously stepped aside, eager to carry on home. Henry gazed at her with his large wolfish eyes.
“The last time I saw you, you were no larger than a cherub! What do they call you now? Or are you still Little Red Riding Hood?”
“A name like Little Red Riding Hood is hard to forget. Some people think I’m still the same little girl,” Red said, slightly irritated. It was true, she was almost eighteen and many people still treated her like an infant.
“It’s such an innocent name,” the wolf nodded. He looked over her shoulder to the path leading towards her grandmother’s. “I hear you visit your grandmother daily. It must be tiresome work.”
“Not at all. I love my grandmother’s company,” Red said.
“Well, if you ever want to take a day off, I would be happy to help,” Henry said. Red watched his eyes behind those small spectacles. They remained in the direction of her grandmother’s house for far too long.
“I think it would be inappropriate,” Red said. “Especially with your brother’s history.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the wolf grimaced as he realised how wrong it would be. “But if there is anything I could do to help you, please let me know. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you,” Red bowed her head politely.
She watched the wolf drop onto his four paws and prowl towards the darkness of the woods. He gave another fleeting glance towards grandmother’s house before finally trotting away.
Red did not move. Even though Henry the Wolf seemed sincere and didn’t act particularly wolfish, there was something bothering Red. She wondered whether she should return to her grandmother’s house just to make sure the old woman was safe. Red shook her head; she knew she was being paranoid. Her grandmother’s door was firmly locked and Red was sure Henry was nothing like his brother.
So, without any further delay, she ran all the way home.
*****
When Henry the Wolf opened his eyes, he could not quite believe where he was. The last he remembered was being in his den. He was sprinkling pepper on his stew and reading a journal about astronomy when soldiers barged through the door and clouted his head.
Now, his body was wrapped in cruel chains. Henry whined in agony as he was dragged along the rough ground towards a clearing in the forest. It was still night, the moon was only beginning its descent. Animals and townsfolk stood around him, glaring at him like he was a despicable monster.
Without his glasses, Henry struggled to see his surroundings clearly but his fantastic sense of smell helped him figure out where he was. He was in the Judge’s Circle. Many creatures and folk had died here, after the swift stroke of justice. Henry could see the judges and he knew, without a doubt, he was the one on trial.
An owl wearing a wig and cloak sat as the head judge, he hooted, “Henry the Wolf, you are accused of a terrible crime,” he snapped his beak. “Murder.”
The crowd murmured between themselves. Henry could not believe it. He had never murdered a man or beast. The owl drawled on,
“You’ve been accused of the brutal murder of Sera Forrest. Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother.”
Henry’s jaw fell open, he wanted to retch.
“I’m not guilty!” Henry howled. “Not guilty!”
“The accused claims he’s not guilty,” the owl ruffled his feathers, he looked to his fellow judges, a badger, a hare, a goose and a field mouse. “May the trial commence.”
Henry looked into the heckling crowd, some of the creatures and townsfolk present had once claimed to be his friends but the way they cursed him, he doubted they would admit it. The owl bashed his gavel.
“Order!” He commanded. Once the crowd was silent, he began,
“Yesterday in the late hours, the woman we all know as Grandmother was found dead in her cottage. Her body ripped into pieces. Only the claws of a beast could cause such dreadful harm.” The owl pointed his gavel at Henry, “A witness claims they saw you near Grandmother’s house before nightfall. Bring forth the witness!”
“I was never there!” Henry cried, “I’m innocent. I have done no crime.”
Nobody listened to him. A soldier, holding his chain, bashed Henry’s face. The wolf winced, blood filled his nose and his vision fought against the darkness.
The crowd parted and a young woman wearing a red cloak stepped forward. Red’s bright cloak burned through Henry’s dark vision.
“Little Red Riding Hood,” the owl screeched. “Tell us, dear. Tell us what you saw.”
Red stood with her hood low over her face, she slowly brought it down. Her skin was ghost white and her eyes red from the tears she had cried. She sniffed, her lips quivered as she glanced at Henry. She avoided his gaze. Henry knew the girl was terrified, she thought he was a murderer.
“I-I-I…” Red paused and wiped away a fallen tear with her cloak, “While I was travelling home after seeing my grandmother, the wolf crossed my path. We spoke a little. I was afraid at first because he looked very much like his brother the Big Bad Wolf.”
The crowd whispered among themselves. The fact that the wolves were brothers was not common knowledge. It seemed some of the judges did not know either. Henry did not want to be associated with such a terrible creature. He bit his tongue, he promised himself he would be fine, he was on trial for a crime, not for who his sibling was.
“I thought Henry seemed like a kind wolf,” Red continued. “After he left, I set off home, thinking my gran was tucked up and safe in her cottage but I worried for her safety, so I went back.”
Red covered her mouth with a trembling hand as she wept. A red squirrel scampered forward and gave her a tiny handkerchief, barely big enough to dry a single tear. Red took it politely and patted her cheeks. Owl hooted softly,
“Red, please continue.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Red murmured. “So, I went back to my grandmother’s house. The front door was wide open. Her comfortable chair had been torn to shreds. When I went to her bedroom, I found… I found…” Red cried, tears fell again. “My dear, old grandmother was dead, in her bed, in pieces!”
The crowd gasped in horror. A pheasant collapsed from fear.
“I think I either fainted or blacked out but when I came to, I found this upon her remains.” Red reached into her cloak and brought out a clump of dark fur. Hair exactly the same colour as Henry’s. Animals from the crowd stepped forward to sniff the hair in her hands.
“Yes, that is indeed wolf fur!” A duck quacked. Other animals nodded in agreement.
Henry couldn’t believe it. Wolf hair could be found anywhere. There must have been another reason why hair was found in the cottage. The blood clogging Henry’s nose made it impossible for him to smell the fur from a distance. As a wolf, his sense of smell was greater than any of the other animals but nobody was interested in hearing his opinion.
The owl and the other judges talked quietly until the owl finally looked at Henry with his sharp tawny eyes.
“The evidence is damning. Only a wolf could cause the damage that we saw and the fur proves you were at the scene of the crime, Henry. It seems you and the Big Bad Wolf have more in common than we thought. Do you have anything to say?”
Henry wheezed, his ribs tightened around his lungs. He was innocent. Innocent! Then Henry remembered, he cried,
“My friend Fox! I saw him after the sun fell. He can support my whereabouts and prove that I wasn’t at Grandmother’s house. He can prove I’m not guilty.”
“A fox!” The goose judge honked.
“How can we trust what a fox has to say?” The badger judge snarled.
“Foxes are the very definition of sly,” the hare judge cried.
The field mouse judge squeaked as mice are obviously incapable of words.
“This is unfair!” Henry howled. Before he could utter another word, a gag was forced into his jaws.
The owl spread his wings, he had come to a decision. He snapped his beak together.
“From the evidence and witness testimony, it is clear to me that a wolf will always be a wolf. It does not matter if he is a scholar or a gentleman, for beneath the mask, a wolf’s nature remains the same.” The owl glared down at Henry, “Oh, how I’m disappointed with you, Henry. I thought you were more.”
Tears filled Henry’s eyes, he wanted to scream his innocence but the gag held him silent.
“The court finds you guilty, Wolf. The only suitable sentence is death.”
Henry cried as the crowd called for his head. Through his tears, Henry saw his executioner. It was the huntsman, the same huntsman who had killed his brother. As the man sharpened his axe, Henry noticed Red approaching the judges.
“Please sirs, may I speak to the wolf? I wish to speak to him before justice takes him.”
“Of course, Little Red,” the owl hooted. “But, be careful.”
The crowd stepped back to give Red some time with the wolf. Henry couldn’t move, the chains were relentless. He could not draw his eyes away from the huntsman’s axe. In a few minutes, he knew it would be dripping with his blood.
“I am sorry this had to happen to you, Henry,” Red whispered, she wiped away his tears with her hand. “You appear to be a kind and considerate wolf but at the end of the day, you’re still a wolf.”
Henry watched Red as she softly scratched the white hairs around his jaws.
“I didn’t have much choice, you see,” Red said, her gaze did not flicker from his. “The old woman was going to take everything I had worked so hard for.
“Why else would I spend every day tending to her? I knew she intended to give me her most prized possessions in her will. Then suddenly, she decides to take it all away from me. She thought she was being kind.” Red scoffed, “So, I had to do something about it.”
Henry stared at her, he could not believe what he was hearing. Red leaned in closer, her breath made his ears twitch.
“You did say, if there was anything you could do to help me, all I had to do was ask,” Red smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask beforehand but there was not a lot of time. I thought you would be happy to help.”
At that moment, Henry smelled it.
Blood.
The smell clung to Red’s cloak. The scent of soap tried to hide it but it could not trick Henry’s extraordinary nose. Of course, Red’s red cloak concealed the stains.
“Again, I am sorry, Henry,” Red pulled back. “Just know, your death will be swift. If the huntsman is as skilled as he was killing your brother, I am sure you will feel no pain.”
Against his better nature, Henry lunged for Red. The gag stopped his snarl but everyone heard the growl rattling in his throat. Red cried, she stumbled back as the soldiers leapt upon Henry. They dragged him towards the chopping block.
Henry watched Red hide her smile beneath the collar of her scarlet cloak. His fury died as Henry realised there was no point in fighting. Why? Because to everyone he was nothing better than the Big Bad Wolf. Nobody would believe a wolf over such an innocent and gentle girl like Little Red Riding Hood.
And with that final despairing thought, the wolf lost his head.