Little Red Riding Hood, Retold

Ashley shielded her eyes as pale steam erupted from a street vent. Dusk created an orange ambiance which gave little visibility, distorting the occasional yellow taxi that rumbled along the highway beside her. She wasn't looking at them though: her eyes were fixed on the stars above, barely visible through the dense city smog but still sparkling defiantly, the crescent moon simply a brother to the stars. Hugging her dark red trench coat around her lithe form, she continued home in blissful ignorance.

    What an opportune ignorance it was. A perfect situation to hunt. Isaac watched the girl - no more than 10 years old he guessed. And his was an experienced eye at such things, he thought proudly. Grinning, his mouth watered in anticipation, his palms damp and his muscles eagerly tense. He took a deep, calming breath and assumed his approachable façade as he stepped out onto the sidewalk and strode toward her. Each step echoed his heartbeat.

    "Excuse me, little girl," he said in a low, kind voice, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder.

    To his surprise, she didn't jump. She simply turned and smiled at him, sending warmth through his body. "Yes mister? Do you need something?"

    Her voice was so sweet and innocent, he had to force himself to resist - better reward later, he told himself, repeating his age-old hunting motto. He smiled at her, bending slightly to meet her eyes. "Oh no, I'm just worried about you, little girl. Isn't it late for you to be out all alone on such a dangerous street?"

    "Oh. Well, I hadn't thought about it really," she said, almost curiously. "My house is just at the end of the road though."

    Despite knowing full well where she lived - and the gorgeous mother she lived with - he stood and gazed down the road, seeing her small house in the distance, run down and patched but somehow on a perfectly green, almost vibrant land of grass which seemed sublimely detached from the dark, dirty city surrounding it. "Ah yes, I see it now. Still, you never know what could happen on the way. Oh! I have an idea."

    She smiled brightly, her curiosity flaring. "Oh? Please tell me mister."

    He swallowed and grinned down at her. "Why don't I walk with you, to make sure you get home safely?"

    She gazed into his eyes for a moment, imploringly, and he quivered slightly at her penetratingly naïve eyes. But then she smiled and nodded. "Okay then. Come on! It's almost time for dinner."

    Holding his hand, she continued walking down the sidewalk, once again staring up at the stars, oblivious to the beast guiding her to her fate.

 They called him Homeless Joe, though neither name fit. He had a home - a run-down Buick. And his name wasn't Joe - at least, it hadn't been since his uncles had used it as a nickname when he was a child. No, throughout his life he had had one name: Drake. And unlike most, he loved his name. As a geek in school, he had always felt Drake gave him a certain suave devenair aura, though he seemed to be the only one that noticed it. His wife had liked it, before she left him. And some of the dealers at the casino he had gone to everyday commented on it occasionally, though he thought they were probably just telling him what he wanted to hear. But when he had lost everything - his wife, family, job, house, car - he still kept his name. Every time someone called him Joe, he recoiled inwardly.

    However, he felt more like Homeless Joe than Brave Drake as he apathetically watched a little girl being deceived by someone every poor person on the street knew as the Wolf. He lived in the shadows, waiting for the chance to prey on innocent women or children, lacking the courage to stand up to anyone worthy, yet none ever challenged him on it. Joe gripped his grimy overcoat and bit his lip. He wanted to help but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Where had Drake gone?

    Suddenly, he felt a deep fire in his heart, a drive of courage. No - this time, he wouldn't let it happen. He had watched the Wolf track and kill dozens of innocent people, always without a fight, always without a hero. But now, Drake could finally edify his name.

    Jumping silently off his perch across the street from the Wolf, he sprinted towards the house at the end of the street. He had seen the girl before, but she had never come down this street before, the only one on which the Wolf hunted. He wondered why, but focused his mind as he raced towards the girl's house. Finally, he arrived and banged on the door, which opened to reveal a stunning woman. He guessed she was in her twenties, but with a ten year old daughter, he assumed she was simply beautiful.

    She frowned at him, looking him up and down. He was surprised at the complete lack of fear or reluctance in her countenance. "Yes, what is it? I was in the middle of cleaning, if you don't mind."

    "I-I'm sorry miss, but this is important. Please, I need to come in - there is a vicious criminal who is about to try to hurt you."

    She raised an eyebrow disbelievingly at him. "Then shouldn't I call the cops?"

    He shook his head. "There's no time. By the time they get here, you'll be dead!"

    She blinked, startled slightly by his enthusiasm, but it seemed to get through to her and she nodded, moving to let him inside. He quickly stepped in and closed the door.

    "So what do you think we should do? I don't have any weapons beyond a kitchen knife."

    Drake breathed quickly, his heart still pounding from his sprint over here. He touched his chin, trying to think as quickly as he could, and suddenly an idea came to him.

**

    "This is it," Ashley said, pointing at the door of her house.

    Isaac trembled with excitement; he hoped the girl hadn't noticed. He didn't want to give anything away, though at this point, he was certain of his success. He had watched her for so long, seen her mother, urged for them, longed, desired, but he never left his street - unless taken. And now, the prey had led the predator to its nest willingly.

    Stepping forward, Isaac knocked on the door.

    "Come in, Ashley, it's unlocked."

    The voice seemed to come from deep inside the house, or under a blanket - Isaac didn't care. He quickly opened it and pulled the girl inside. She yelped slightly but seemed to still trust him, even as he gripped her. He turned to her and put a vertical finger against his lips, telling her to be quiet, and she nodded, her eyes wide with terrorized shock. Dragging the girl around the house, he searched for her mother, eagerness and anticipation filling every fiber of his being.

    Finally, he opened the back bedroom in the house. A gorgeous young woman sat on a bed. Isaac immediately recognized her. But immediately, he felt something was wrong. The woman sat as if she had been expecting him; she didn't even react, as though she had been emotionally prepared beforehand. He threw the girl at her mother, but didn't have time to do anymore.

    The closet door to his right flung open and a man whom he knew to be Homeless Joe, a local bum and worthless low life, not even worthy of competition for him, stood. He squinted at him curiously and moved to step towards him, but he was caught as Joe raised a hand and lunged forward, plunging a butcher knife deep into his heart. The image of Joe - no, not Joe: Drake - was burned in his mind, as his life quickly slipped away.