Little Red...

Once upon a time, there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else. So she was always called Little Red Riding Hood.

"Little Red Riding Hood" by the Grimm Brothers

"You must be kidding! Little Red Riding Hood, seriously? The most banal story ever."

"Yes, I agree, but just listen to it... Once upon a time, there was a little girl..."

"Cliche!"

"Shhh... Let me get to the point! Once upon a time, there was a little girl..."

"You promised me that this would be an original and interesting story. And what did I get? Little Red Riding Hood!".

"Oh, just shut up and listen!"

***

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. No, stop! I said "a girl"? I meant "a big guy". Yeah. So... Once upon a time, there was a giant, strong, and independent lumberjack. His name was Paul and he lived alone in a small hut on the edge of a dark forest. Every morning he went into the woods and worked all day cutting trees and sweating, and carrying out whatever lumberjacks were carrying around. When the sun was going down, Paul was coming back home.

One day when he was walking through the woods, he heard strange noises. Was it cry? Or maybe a scream? It sounded so disturbing in a quiet forest. Did I mention that it happened in winter? The only thing you could hear was the snow crunching under your warm boots. The forest was dead. Paul didn't know how true that was.

He followed the noise and suddenly he saw a little girl. She was sitting on a tree log. The snow was covered with blood over her legs. Warm, steaming blood. If you looked a little closer, you would see fur bits and pieces, some little bones. Something was killed beneath the girl's legs. Paul was shocked.

The girl looked at him with her big blue eyes. No, not only blue. One of them was brown. She had two-colored eyes. It was so rare, so unique. He noticed tears on her cheeks. But she wasn't scared. Disturbed, yes, sad, for sure, but not scared.

"Who are you?" Paul asked. The girl didn't answer. She looked at him with fear in those big beautiful eyes. "Don't be afraid. I don't want to hurt you," he said very gently and slowly walked closer to the girl. She was just sitting and staring at him, her eyes become bigger and bigger.

When he came next to the girl, he could smell not only the bland, metallic smell of blood. There was something else in the air. Something stinky...

"Dog? Wet, dirty, smelly dog..." he gasped. Suddenly, the girl held out her hands to him. He didn't think a lot. He took her in his arms and went home with her.

***

The girl was sitting quietly and watching Paul's every step. "What have you doing alone in the woods," he murmured while he was making some hot, strong, sweet tea. "Alone in the forest... Something attacked you? All these blood and remains," he shook his head like he was trying to get rid of that strange picture.

The girl didn't say a word. Paul didn't know if she didn't want to or she couldn't. He gave her a cup full of tea. Instantly she started to drink but she tried to do it like a dog. She put her tongue into the cup however tea was too hot. The girl screamed and she released the cup from her hands. The mug fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.

The girl was frightened. She curled her shoulders, her eyes fixed on the floor, and she squealed softly.

"Easy," Paul said, "It was just too hot for you. Let me help you". He got another cup of tea but instead of pouring a full mug with hot tea, he poured some cold water into it. The girl started to drink just like a dog.

"That's interesting," Paul whispered. "Were you raised by animals or something? I heard some stories about it - about kids who were raised by wolves". The girl lapped her tea in silence.

Paul was very tired. He made some sandwiches that the girl ate greedily and then he put the girl in his bed. He lay himself down on the floor next to the stove. Few minutes later he fell into a deep sleep. The cabin was shaking from his snoring.

***

"Ahh-whoooooo!" wolf's howl awoke Paul. First, he thought that this was only a dream but he heard it once again. It was coming from somewhere close and it was very loud. He didn't know what was happening. Did wolves somehow get into the hut? He rubbed his eyes but he didn't see clearly. It was too dark.

"Ahh-whoooooo! Ahh-ahh-ahh-whoooooo!" wolf was howling again and again. It chilled him to the bones. He imagined that a few minutes later he would be torn to shreds by a murderous beast. Or if the wolf was rabid, his attack would be crazier and much more violent. He imagined the beast with red, weird eyes and with foam dripping from his mouth.

"Think, you must think," there was total chaos in Paul's brain. He calmed his breath and pulled himself together. "There is a poker near to the stove. If I grab it, I will have a weapon". Paul was trying to feel the tool in the dark and reach out for it slowly.

Suddenly, he felt something on his face. It was warm, wet and it tickled. "It is a wolf's nose," he shouted in his thoughts and froze. The nose nudged his cheek and then Paul heard a squeak. He raised his hand and felt a small furry head in the darkness.

He rose sharply, kicked the wolf off himself, and tried to find some light source. "Where the hell did I put the lamp". Finally, he found a kerosene lamp, and the sparkle lit up the room. In the corner next to the stove there lay a small ball of fur wrapped in some children's clothes.

"It's... it is... you!" Paul shouted and the small ball of fur shuddered. The man knelt down and slowly came closer to the small frightened werewolf. "You aren't a human," Paul whispered. The little wolf looked at him with those sad, two-colored eyes.

"Don't be afraid, I don't want to hurt you. You don't want to sleep alone, am I right?" he asked. Werewolf approached him carefully and put his head on Paul's knees. "Everything will be ok. Let's go to sleep".

The small wolf lay down next to him. He looked like a small cushy pillow. Paul murmured:

"Soft wolfie, warm wolfie, little ball of fur

Happy wolfie, sleepy wolfie..."

"Ah-whoooo..." small werewolf howled, or squeaked quietly in sleep.

***

"The end".

"You are joking, right?! What happened with Paul and the little werewolf?!"

"I don't know. This is the end of this story. Furthermore, you said that this is a boring story and a cliche".

"Oh, come on! I want to know what happened next".

"Maybe you will know... But not today..."