Blood Red

Thalia had always been curious as to what lurked in the woods. She’d only entered once, a time she had never forgotten, no matter how hard she’d tried. Still, to this day she could hear the faint sound of howling and see the shadows leaping in and out of her sight as she stared into the seemingly endless dark. As a child, she would question her grandmother relentlessly about it.

“What did I see that day?” she would ask. “What’s out there?”

“Monsters,” the older woman would reply. “Creatures of the night.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

Her grandmother would pull up her sleeve, showing her scarred flesh that glistened silver. “Up close.”

Thalia would shiver and hurry indoors, only to be pulled out again by an invisible force. Part of her was drawn to the woods, while the other wanted to watch it burn.

“These cupcakes aren’t going to sell themselves!” her grandma called, banging her fist on the wooden door.

“Sorry,” Thalia said, again. “I’ll just be a minute.”

The old woman sighed. “You said that ten minutes ago, and ten before that.”

“Ta-da!” Thalia called as she opened the door, relishing the surprise on her grandma’s weathered face. “What do you think?” She did a twirl to empathise.

“That’s a lot of red.”

“I know,” Thalia said, grinning from ear-to-ear as she mindlessly twirled a strand of her newly coloured hair between her fingertips. Once purely dark brown, strands now flared a deep red. With her red flannel t-shirt and blood-red lips, Thalia thought her look was complete.

“It took you all morning to do… this?”

She nodded.

Her grandma rolled her eyes and turned and went down the stairs. As Thalia made no urge to move, the woman gave a huff, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Twenty minutes later, and Thalia was standing in the scorching hot sun, her sleeves rolled up.

“Any vanillas?” Fiona called from her stall nearby. The other girl was lucky enough to have a tarp over her head, saving her from the intensity of the heat.

“A few,” Thalia called back.

“Save me two. I’ll pay when I’m done here.”

She plucked two from their respected positions and moved them to the other side of the basket. “They’re all yours.”

Fiona clapped her hands in joy.

A few people walked past, mumbling under their breath as they spotted Thalia, and turning the other way. If it was their intent to be discreet, they did a poor job.

“Cupcakes?” she asked, raising her basket slightly.

“Not from the likes of you,” a man spat.

Thalia, although used to this horrid behaviour, shied away ever so slightly. “Have a nice day, then,” she called after him, forever following her grandma’s advice.

The heat only worsened as the day went on, and soon she was joined by Fiona, who took it upon herself to make up for her lack of enthusiasm.

“Brilliant day, don’t you think?” she said.

“If by brilliant, you mean blindingly brilliant, then yes. Yes, it is.”

“Oh cheer up, will you.”

“You’ve got enough cheer for the two of us.”

Fiona threw herself into a conversation on why Thalia should smile more often, but Thalia drowned it out. Instead, she focused on what others were saying around her.

“Bad luck,” a woman murmured to her friends in the store across from hers. “How old Anne took that child in will forever be a mystery.”

“Ssh,” her friend scolded. “She might hear us!”

The three women shrunk back in their seats, faking interest in a passerby’s brooch.

Thalia jumped back as a man clumsily bumped into her stall. Her basket rolled over, the cupcakes tumbling into the dirt. Ruined.

“Sor-” he began but stopped as he noticed Thalia.

He brushed himself off and spun around. Before walking away, he muttered under his breath, “Freak.”

Fiona shot out of her seat, her vicious curls spraying around her face.

“How dare you!” She yelled at the man. Everyone fell silent. “Apologise at once!”

He turned to face her, his face lined with malice. “Mind your business, girl” he snarled.

Fiona’s face burned red and Thalia knew this was going to end badly.

“Apologise to my friend at once,” the other girl said, holding her ground.

Thalia’s jaw dropped. Not because Fiona was standing up for her, but because she had said, friend. She couldn’t help wondering when they had passed that line.

The man rolled his eyes and walked away, the people nearby began to whisper and point their fingers at him.

“Apologise!” Ben, the man in the store beside Thalia’s roared. Soon others began to join in, the words becoming a chant. Apparently saying cruel things behind someone’s back was acceptable, but face-to-face was not.

The man’s face reddened and he darted down the street, dodging the crowd. He soon slipped away, vanishing in the crows. Thalia fell back in her seat, Fiona followed.

“Can you believe it?!”

“Yes,” Thalia sighed.

“People can be so nice, but other days just as cruel.”

She nodded. The relentless chatting began again, this time directed at Thalia. Between the hushed whispers and jabbing of fingers, the market began to feel even more confining.

“I need some air,” she said. Without waiting for a reply, Thalia shot up and ran, not caring where she ended up.

As always, she was drawn to the woods. She didn’t even realise where she was headed until she stood at the border. 

Come to us, it seemed to call. Venture into the dark.

“No,” she said firmly, remembering her grandma’s constant warnings. “I will not.”

She turned around and ran straight home.

“There you are!” Her grandma called as she ran in through the already opened front gate. “Fiona just came and dropped off the money from our stall. Shame the cupcakes were ruined, but I’ll have another batch ready soon enough.”

Thalia had forgotten and was thankful for the other girls' help. She made a mental note to thank her the next time their paths crossed.

They spread the coins out on the table, enough to fit in the palm of ones’ hand.

“It’ll do,” her grandma said, breaking the silence.

Thalia let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

“Come and help me in the kitchen?”

Thalia looked up. “I was thinking of sewing,” she said.

The old woman blinked. “Sewing?” she asked. “Whatever for?”

“I thought I could make some things to sell at the market,” Thalia admitted, sheepishly.

“Our brands' cupcakes! They don’t call us ‘Baked Delights’ for no reason!”

“What if we branched out a bit,” Thalia argued. “Surely it couldn’t hurt.” She gestured to the money on the table. “After all, you’re an extremely talented woman.”

Her grandma frowned. “We’ve been in the baking business for generations, surely you don’t want to ruin the tradition?!”

Thalia sighed. “No, of course not.”

She knew how important it was to her grandmother that she kept the family business running for years to come. She didn’t want to let her down. So instead of doing what she loved, she went and joined her grandma in the kitchen.

The following morning when Thalia woke up, her grandma sent her on an important mission. She was to venture into town and replenish their stock of ingredients. Flour and eggs were running dangerously low. So, fastening her red cloak, and lacing up her boots, Thalia set off, basket in hand and the light patter of rain falling above.

A little way along, Thalia spotted a man in a grey coat, watching her from the edge of the woods. She looked down at the ground, praying to go unnoticed. Part of her wanted to flee, but she forced herself to keep going, one step at a time.

Too busy focused on where she was headed, Thalia didn’t hear the man echoing her footsteps until he was practically on top of her.

“Hullo,” he said, cheerfully, before wrapping his hand across her face. It was the man from the market. The one who’d called her a freak. His forest green eyes stood out against his pale face.

Thalia screamed, or at least tried to. One of the man’s clammy hands was held firmly over her mouth. Her nostrils flared.

“Do be quiet,” he murmured. “It makes the whole job a lot easier for me,” he paused before adding, “and you.”

Thalia thrashed against his firm grip, his other hand was slid around her waist, pinning her arms. Still, with one hand over her mouth, he managed to dig the sharp point of a blade into her neck, but still, she didn’t relent.

“You look so much like her,” he whispered, tracing his blade along her cheek. Drops of bright red blood welled to the surface where the cold metal met with soft flesh.

“Same pretty blue eyes, and slightly bucked teeth.”

Thalia froze.

“It’s a shame,” he said, “that she left us so soon.”

He moved his hand ever so slightly away from her mouth, enough for Thalia to get out one question. “Who are you?” Her voice trembled.

“Your father,” he said, the words echoed throughout Thalia’s head.

It’s not possible, she thought. My parents are both dead.

Thalia had been three at the time of her mother’s passing. She had never met her father. Her grandmother and mother had told her he’d died before she was born.

They were just outside the woods, roaming the border, picking flowers and singing in the sun.

“Thalia,” her mother called. “Don’t stray from the path, you’re getting too close to the woods.”

Being an adventurous child, she hadn’t listened and had run as her heart desired. She crossed the border, the flowers at her feet a variety of brilliant shades. Her mother called again, her tone changing from calm to serious. Thalia didn’t notice.

“Thalia!” Her mother screamed.

She glanced back then, just in time to spot a shadow moving towards her mother.

“Run!”

She didn’t think twice. 

It was only later, once the screams had stopped that Thalia got out of the log she’d crammed herself into. What happened next she couldn’t recall, the memory too traumatic that she kept it, even from herself. 

From then on, she’d been known as ‘Little Red Hood’, having been spotted in the village, coated in a thick crust of blood, her hood permanently a muddy red. She couldn’t tell them what had killed her mother, only that she had seen if from a distance, and that it reminded her of a shadow.

Now, a man, claiming to be her seemingly deceased father, held a blade to her cheek. Her heart pumped against her chest.

“Your mother,” he said, his voice softening. “Her death was an accident. I never meant to hurt her, nor do I intend to hurt you.”

Thalia’s mind whirled.

“I only want my pup.”

He removed his hand but still kept her pinned against him.

“What do you mean?”

“Child,” he said. “Whatever you humans like to call offspring.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Thalia said. “What do you mean you hurt my mother?”

“Death comes to us all,” he replied. “Unfortunately hers was by my hand.”

Her face paled, her hands shook. “You killed her,” she breathed. “You're the shadow.”

He laughed, but before her could reply an arrow struck the man’s shoulder. It planted itself firmly into his flesh. He howled with rage, the sound animal-like. It reminded Thalia of the sounds she could sometimes hear coming from the woods. Her blood ran cold.

“Run!” A girl yelled.

Thalia didn’t hesitate, she ran. It was only when she made it a good distance away that she hesitated. As Thalia spun around she spotted Fiona, the girl battling a wolf. Her arrows fired in rapid succession, but although she was winning now, she was soon to fail. Her quiver was running dangerously low.

Suddenly, Thalia felt like she was three again, running away while her mother held her ground. She’d lived with the regret every day, although if she had of stayed she would have been sealing her fate too. Now, she ran towards the danger, she owed it to Fiona, the only person she could truly call a friend.

As she reached Fiona and the wolf, Thalia spotted the man’s sharp blade, discarded in the grass. She didn’t think, she picked it up and when the beast was focused on Fiona, she stabbed it in the heart.

It wailed as it collapsed to the ground. As it heaved its final breaths, it looked up into Thalia’s eyes. She gasped at the wolf’s eyes; vivid green, the same shade as the mans'.

“Thanks,” Fiona sighed, \hauling herself up from the ground.

“I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t of showed up when you did...” She was lost for words. “What were you doing here, anyway?” Thalia looked down at Fiona’s bow.

“Oh, this,” Fiona said casually lifting up her bow. “Hunting. I was just over there when I heard you scream.” She pointed a little way off at the border of the woods.

“You do not know how glad I am you came.”

“I’ve got to admit, men turning into wolves, or the other way around is not something I ever expected to see. What do you suggest we do with him.”

“Bury it,” Thalia replied.

When she returned home that evening, coated in dirt, her grandmother was stunned.

“What’s all this about?” She asked, vaguely gesturing at Thalia.

“Got in a bit of trouble,” she replied. “You needn’t worry, it’s all sorted now.”

Although her grandmother's features returned to their calm and collected state, her voice still quivered slightly.

“Have you got the flour and eggs?”

“No.”

“How do you expect us to make more cupcakes then?”

“Look, I’ll go into town tomorrow and get the ingredients, but I won’t be the one baking.”

Her grandmother’s face whitened. “Why not?”

“I’ll be sewing,” Thalia replied matter-of-factly.

“B-but the business.”

If the possible threat to her life earlier had taught her anything, it was that she wanted to do what made her happy. She was sick and tired of following everyone. The people who talked about her behind her back, her grandmother and her family business were no longer going to define her.

“Branch out, gran,” she said. “Explore your options. Surely you want to do more than just bake cupcakes fro the rest of your life.”

Her gran looked a little lost, but didn’t argue, or complain any further.

“I always did want to sing,” she said, barely more than a whisper.

The older woman cleared her throat and began to squawk,

“I’m going to have a shower,” she said quickly and rushed upstairs.