RED | A dark retelling of Red Riding Hood | WATTYS 2021 SHORTLIST

Chapter Twenty-One: The End

AN: 

Hang in there for this one folks! 

It happened fast.

One moment, Fenris clung to Petyr and the next, the Woodsman swung his axe toward the Wolf. The blade's intent was clear, his swing was meant to connect with the other man's throat.

"Stop it!" Marjorie's world erupted in chaos.

At Petyr's attack, Fenris ripped away from his grasp. His hands wrapped around Marjorie's shoulder, tucking her close until her entire front was pushed flush against him.

"Duck!" He shouted.

She followed his command just as Petyr's blade swung down, hitting the empty air where Marjorie's head once was.

"Petyr, what are you doing—" she screamed out as he lifted the axe up again.

She narrowed her gaze on his face, finding that his brown eyes glowed a stark white. There was no iris nor pupil, just a blank canvas watching her.

"You stupid Wolf," Vivian shouted, laughter tinging the end of her words. "You brought me a Woodsman. A real one."

"What?" Marjorie rushed out before Fenris pulled her farther away from Petyr. Each time they moved, the time between missing his advancements shortened by the thread of a second. Soon, he would find his mark.

"You mean you did not tell the little girl?" Vivian said.

Marjorie turned to the woman, and found that her hands were lifted, fingers bent like a puppeteer controlling a maze of strings. She shared the same white, glowing gaze as Petyr.

"Tell me what?" Marjorie asked just as Fenris wrapped his hands around the small of her waist and stole the dagger she clutched in her grasp. He unsheathed it in quick succession and raised the knife in the same moment Petyr brought his blade down in one forceful sway.

She watched Vivian. Her hands mimicked Petyr's identical movements. She controlled him. The revelation turned the tips of Marjorie's fingers numb and light, as though Marjorie no longer belonged on the earth's surface.

She wanted to float up. She wanted to run from this—from the fury in Vivian's eyes, the blade of Petyr, and the countering movements of Fenris. Marjorie curled her hands into Fenris's cloak and imagined herself stuffing her panic back down into her chest. She didn't need adrenaline—instead, a clear mind.

Fenris caught the axe with the blade of the dagger. He threw it off, giving them enough time to run a few steps backward.

"Just like only a Spark can kill a witch, only a true Woodsman can kill a Wolf," Vivian revealed. "Petyr is a true descendant of the original villagers—he possesses the blood of the very first Woodsman. Fenris, was it your intention to lead yourself to your own death?"

"Is this true?" Marjorie whispered, staring at Fenris through blurry eyes. "You said before—not even a dagger to the heart could kill you. Is he your weakness?"

Fenris's strange gray eyes shifted to Marjorie, and with one tiny tilt of his head, he confirmed her fears.

"But my favorite part little Red?" Vivian said through a smile of sharpened teeth. "Anything can kill a Spark."

The witch brought her hand down in a deafening clap. With her sudden movement, Petyr closed his distance between Marjorie. He ran toward her with no understanding of what he was doing—he must not. He would never raise a blade toward her.

But now he did. Petyr pulled his axe behind his head, with all the precision of an archer nocking his arrow, and swung forward. She screamed, unsure of which direction to move while his towering body blocked everything from sight—even the full red moon.