CHAPTER 7 - Red Riding Hood

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Wolf jabbed the dart gun at the bloody chair, the crimson streaks running down the front of the sink, and the smears mingled with shoe prints stamped into the low carpet. With each jab of the gun, his face turned redder, making Sarah think his head might explode. And then he whipped the barrel at her, a thin rim of white surrounding his dilated pupils, and an oh-no-you-didn't, gaping mouth and sagging jaw. "For the love of God, what have you been doing in here?"

"Trying to escape." Sarah sighed, peering down at her fingertips as blood dripped to the floor.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Sarah opened her mouth to speak but closed it. She was not answering that question.

"I planned on cutting you free so you could eat." Wolf hesitated, entranced, gawking at the gory scene. It appeared he couldn't believe his eyes. Then he blurted out, "The sink. Go clean up, now."

Sarah flinched at the intensity of Wolf's demand. With her guard down for a mere moment, a wave of vulnerability washed over her, mesmerized by the sight of so much blood. Her own blood. Her own mortality.

Life and death.

Eternal life and eternal death. She felt like she was out of her body, like she couldn't will her feet to move.

"Please." Wolf's tone softened. "You're still bleeding. You need bandages."

"I've made a mess, haven't I?"

"That doesn't describe it at all."

As Sarah dwelled on the fact that she wouldn't die regardless of how much blood she lost, which might not be the case entirely—she had never tested the theory by bleeding out—her thoughts centered on the ashes of her failed getaway. That's what bothered her the most. She didn't care that she had injured herself or wrecked the place. Soon, the thoughts of her own mortality became glazed over with despondency like she was dead on the inside. Her body was immortal, but she felt like an empty shell without a soul. She wanted to escape, return to her apartment, and crawl between the sheets, pull the covers over her head and getaway. Get. Away. She couldn't help but focus on those words in particular.

A dart away from unconsciousness, Sarah moped like a teenage schoolgirl. Her bottom lip protruded out further than normal, and her cheeks radiated with a wave of embarrassment. The way Wolf had scolded her when he entered the cabin made her feel like she had done something stupid. But she had only acted like any abductee might. She tried to escape, and she failed miserably.

Sarah returned to the sink, rinsed yet again, and inspected her wounds. The zip tie sliced through the top half of her wrists, leaving crescent moon gashes. The cuts burned to the bone, stinging like fire, but they didn't faze her like minutes before.

No matter how many times she washed the blood away, cleaning the flesh, crimson continued to seep to the surface. She leaned over the sink, tilted her head up and peered at her reflection in the mirror. A pale complexion stared back at her with a smudge of red across her chin. She looked like Little Red Riding Hood, and he was the big bad... she cut her eyes at Wolf, who peered back at her. He didn't have the teeth and the claws, or the long pointy nose, but he was a predator all right. She couldn't help but imagine coarse hair sprouting up on his arms and hands. As her thoughts wondered, fang-like canines emerged from his gums, and his yellowish eyes turned into demonic slits.

Sarah shook herself.

This wasn't a flashback like she was used to having. No, this was something different. This was like having a nightmare with her eyes wide open.

She blinked. Twice. And Wolf didn't seem angry anymore. His once hardened jaw softened. His eyes didn't seem so piercing and demon yellow. He didn't have claws anymore, or canine teeth, or a thick mane of animalistic hair. They held each other's gaze for a fleeting moment, and then it ended.

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