Big Bad

by Lillian Jacobs

  BIG BAD

  By

  Lillian Jacobs

  © 2013 by Lillian Jacobs

  Contents

  Red Riding Hood

  The Huntsman

  Werewolf Hunter

  The Big Bad Wolf

  If you bind me so that I am unable to release myself, then you will be standing by in such a way that I should have to wait a long time before I got any help from you. I am reluctant to have this band put on me. But rather than that you question my courage, let someone put his hand in my mouth as a pledge that this is done in good faith.

  -Fenrir the Wolf,

  Prose Edda, Circa 1220 A.D.

  Prologue

  His menacing, red eyes fixated on the smiling girl.

  This is it. It’s time.

  He licked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth.

  No, not yet. I must not be caught. Patience.

  As she walked past him, he bumped into her.

  “Excuse me, miss. I apologize.”

  She gave a half-hearted smile and continued walking. The blonde was to his liking. College-aged, clean, and well fed. Perfect. He followed her to her car, before watching her drive off.

  Her scent would be easy to track:

  Herbal Essences shampoo.

  Evyan skin cream.

  L'Air du Temps perfume.

  Also, she was in heat and that was a most unmistakable aroma.

  The man followed her to her house by the lake and waited five minutes before walking up to the door.

  He knocked.

  “Who is it?”

  Little pig, little pig, let me in.

  “Hi, I’m Bill, your neighbor. I just wanted to talk about a fence that we share that needs fixing.”

  “Can you come back tomorrow, please?” she said, refusing to open the door. “Tomorrow would be better if that’s okay.”

  “I walked all the way over here. It will just take a second,” he said, his anger about to boil over. The man felt his body temperature rise. Drops of sweat formed on his forehead.

  “I don’t feel comfortable opening the door at night, sorry. Can you please come back later?”

  “There is no later…”

  I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.

  The moon reflected in his eyes as a rumble from his chest rose louder and louder until it became a fierce growl. It’s too late. Whatever happens now is beyond my control. He watched his body as though he were an outside observer. His arms, now massive and covered in dark fur, smashed the door into a thousand pieces. Through a hazy cloud of unleashed rage, the faint echo of a bloodcurdling scream could be heard.

  Chapter 1

  Red Riding Hood

  Once upon a time there was a beautiful, eighteen year old girl named Red who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother. Her grandmother would do anything for her. Once she gave her a hood of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else; so she was always called ‘Little Red Riding Hood.’

  One day Red’s mother said to her: “Come, Little Red Riding Hood, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets dark, and when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path. You may encounter danger or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don't forget to say, ‘Good evening’.”

  Red rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “I’ve traveled through the forest dozens of times. Nothing will happen to me, Mother.”

  “Red, I am telling you for your own good. I am telling you because I care for you and your safety.”

  “Thank you, Mother, but I must be off before it gets too late. If you truly cared, you would know that the forest is much more dangerous at night.”

  “Red, you have been getting into trouble at school, and at home, so my words are not something of fantasy. You have been bad at avoiding misfortune lately.”

  Red moved her black hair from her face to reveal large, brown eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m not trying to get into trouble. I just hope you can realize that I’m an adult now. I should be treated as an adult. I can handle myself.”

  “I understand that, Red. But you are still at an age that can give rise to heavy emotion. Strange feelings and hormones are swirling about your body, and you may have moments where control is lost. With all of the dangerous men out there, I would have you stay away from making a mistake.”

  “Mother, I am still a good girl, and would prefer it if you stayed out of such personal matters. I have always used, and always will use, the romance and erotica section of the bookstore as my gateway into understanding the world of men and the ensuing pleasures and pains they bring.”

  “Please Red, just do as I say. Show restraint. Do not stray from the path.”

  Although Red didn’t want to admit it, her mother was right. Lately Red had been feeling unable to control her own actions and emotions. She often felt flashes of uncontrollable sensations and would not realize what she had done until it was too late. So far, this has led to her staying out late at parties and getting into a few fights, but she feared an escalation of consequences if she could not harness her impulses.

  “I will take great care,” said Red Riding Hood to her mother as she went out the door, wearing her red hood, red cape, white ruffled skirt, black corset, thigh high white stockings, and black boots. “I have dressed to avoid attention, and I doubt anyone will notice me at all.”

  Red was walking out of the front gate when she spotted Eric the Huntsman. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, and stood by a white horse. He had long, blonde hair, a beard, and was incredibly muscular. A sword and dagger hung from his belt. He was a dead ringer for Chris Hemsworth.

  “Whither are you going, fair Red?”

  “Please, Eric. Do not use the word ‘whither.’ This is the 21st century. I am going to the woods.”

  “I will take you there myself to protect you.”

  “Absolutely not,” she said, sternly.

  “You would choose unforeseen danger over the safety of an experienced hunter as bodyguard such as I?”

  “I would choose the unforeseen path; the path that leads to something not yet seen by my eyes. I have grown weary of the lack of thrill and excitement within the boundaries of this village. I do not wish to be protected from new experiences. If I encounter danger, I will handle it myself.”

  “Be careful out there,” Eric said. “The forest is no place for helpless girls.”

  “Worry about yourself. I want to be free – away from this boring village. The forest provides a much needed escape.”

  “Boring, you say? Just last week, the tailor and the cobbler had such words that I was forced to stand between them, a hand to each of their faces, like so. If I had not been there at that exact moment, who knows what would have happened. I only pray the village never experiences such horror.”

  As Eric was finishing his sentence, he looked and saw that Red had already passed through the gate and was on her way to the forest. He ran to catch up to her.

  “Red, you still have not told me whether you will allow me to escort you to the harvest fair.”

  “I appreciate the invitation, Eric. However, although we reside within a small European village in a land that doesn’t seem to grasp modernity, I do not enjoy being confined to such ancient rituals. It’s the same thing every year.”

  “Apologies. Yet my original question still stands.”

  She saw the defeated look in his eyes and felt pity.

  “Let me think about it, Eric.”

  Eric stopped following her as she w
alked into the darkness of the forest.

  “So be it, Red. But do not stray from the path. It is very dangerous in the woods. There are creatures out there that will devour you whole!”

  Red admired Eric and many of his rugged qualities. He was not pretentious like many of the other villagers. The men who came from money were under the false impression that wealth alone would grant them access to her bed. But she was not turned on by them, nor was she turned on by Eric’s ‘knight in shining armor’ attitude. In fact, nothing from the village turned her on. Everything within the village was familiar and dull.

  Red’s grandmother lived half a league from the village, and just as Red Riding Hood entered the wood, the sun began to set. It was now twilight and the darkness grew as the lights from the village dissipated the further she delved into the heart of the forest. The chilling air caused her hands to rattle the basket of cake and wine.

  There were stories of savage creatures roaming within the forest that her parents had told her when she was young. She never believed them, yet when confronted with isolation, Red’s thoughts appeared to be more susceptible to flights of fancy.

  Before her was the main path. And nearby there was also a faint and familiar trail towards the west. Within her body, she felt a growing excitement. She had often wondered what it would be like to take that trail. The western way had grown to mythological proportions within her head, as she fantasized about what strange and wonderful sights lay in that direction. The warnings from others to not stray only increased her curiosity. How could they know it was dangerous if they have never explored the terrain themselves? Maybe I am the only one brave enough to undertake such a treacherous proposition.

  Red spun around, looking at the bizarre and tangled plants creeping around her at all sides, and realized that she had already walked down the western trail!

  I have already made the choice and I have no recollection of the decision. Red, you are trouble, girl!

  Her heart pounded as a shroud of darkness surrounded her. The stars that were visible five minutes ago had now disappeared as the foliage had become more and more dense. Red’s fear increased proportionally to the growing silence which was only interrupted by the echoes of the crunch of twigs beneath her feet as she staggered through the labyrinth of branches and bush.

  Well, this is what you wanted, Red. You got it. I hope you’re happy. Too bad you told Eric and his sword to stay home.

  From behind her came a low growl. The shock hit her like splash of water and she began to desperately run, not knowing where, as the looming shadows provided little help in navigation. With each root and broken branch that she stumbled over, her fear manifested as pathetic whimpers that she hoped would not give away her location to whatever it was that was stalking her. Sharp tree branches cut into her garments and flesh, tearing her blouse open. Mother will kill me for ruining my clothing if I ever make it home alive.

  Red did not see the small trench ahead and fell into it, screaming and tumbling until her body lay at the bottom. Her ankle burned, yet she remained quiet, hoping that whatever it was had lost her trail. Sweat dripped down her panting chest, now partially exposed from the accosting branches. The woods were silent, and she dared not move or make a sound.

  Mist moved in a cloud toward the trench, engulfing the clearing and surrounding her completely. The air was chilly and the forest utterly silent, almost dead. Red heard the crushing of twigs and branches and froze, her eyes peering curiously from underneath her hood.

  Within a sliver of moonlight shining down from the tree tops stood an enormous wolf. It was larger than a horse and had thick, night-black fur. Its red eyes intensely stared at her.

  Oh, God. From what level of Hell does this savage beast originate? Why did I disobey my mother?

  The beast did not budge from its position; Red wondered what it wanted with her. She was in awe of how large it was. Its shoulders were like boulders and its arms seemed to hold the magnitude of its weight, as it was front-heavy like a gorilla. It came closer to inspect her further. The wolf had two teeth larger than the others at the sides of its mouth, like a saber-toothed tiger. Its hair appeared not soft and smooth, but straight and dirty. She could smell the musky scent of the beast as it stood at the top of the small ravine, staring at her, its eyes glowing in the moonlight. If only I could take this one to Beverly Hills to scare the crap out of all those prissy, tiny, sweater-wearing dogs.

  The animal steadily moved its eyes along Red’s long, smooth legs lying amongst the grass and weeds. The animal then looked to her basket and she felt that it was thinking, yet how could that be?

  Red was especially shocked at what occurred next.

  “Who are you?” the wolf said with a deep and gravelly voice.

  “My name is Little Red Riding Hood,” Red whimpered, unsure if she was dreaming.

  “Hello, Little Red Riding Hood,” it said with almost a whisper. Its voice was not angry, but surprisingly soothing. “I trust you are not hurt.”

  “I am not hurt. Thank you kindly, wolf,” Red said, feeling more at ease. She got onto her feet and dusted off her clothes. A talking wolf? This is exactly the kind of new experience I desire.

  “Where are you going so late, Red Riding Hood?'

  “To my grandmother's house.”

  “What have you got in your basket?”

  “Cake and wine; yesterday was baking day, so poor sick grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger.”

  “Where does your grandmother live, Red Riding Hood?”

  “A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood; her house stands under the three large oak trees, the nut trees are just below; you surely must know it,” replied Red.

  The wolf thought to himself: What a tender young creature. What a nice, plump mouthful—she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both.

  “See, Red Riding Hood, how pretty the flowers are about here - why do you not look around? It is not just some spooky, old woods. You walk gravely along as if you were going to a funeral, while everything else out here in the wood is merry.”

  Red looked around and saw a bed of beautiful, red roses visible in the moonlight within the ravine. She bent down, picked one, and smelled the pleasurable aroma. Is this animal as sweet as its words? Or is it only an illusion. The fear swelling within my body cannot be a lie. Yet I am intrigued. This creature is like nothing I have encountered.

  “You are right, wolf. I had not realized the beauty that lay hidden within the forest.”

  “There are many hidden treasures still yet to be discovered.”

  Red was surprised that she found the beast incredibly attractive. Its eyes revealed something more than a savage creature, yet they were unmistakably primal.

  “Aren’t you afraid of walking so late at night,” she asked of it.

  “I fear neither man nor beast. They fear me, however,” said the wolf, slowly and deliberately.

  “What is your name?”

  The wolf smiled.

  “My real name would be uncouth to your ears and tongue. But the people of this country have named me Fen, for Fenrir, a wolf of legend.”

  “That’s a nice name,” she said, stroking her long hair.

  Fen kept his eyes locked with hers as she climbed up the ravine. He slowly moved his paw out for her to grab, but Red hesitated to allow such assistance.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked with a sudden vulnerability.

  “I’m not sure,” she said.

  “I would not trust a vile-looking creature such as myself, either. It is my curse. Yet, it is difficult to say whether beauty such as yours is more dangerous.”

  Red relented, feeling the humanity of the creature, and grabbed onto his paw. Fen glided her up the ravine gently, making sure to not scratch her in the process.

  “You are a surprising creature,” she said. If he had wanted to kill me, he would have done so already. A wild animal with a thirst for blood would not be
as composed as this creature that stands before me reciting poetry. She began to stroke the hair on his head and he closed his eyes, lost in the sensation. The feeling of his fur gave her shivers.

  He is so large and dangerous, yet he submits to me.

  “Fen, why are you so kind to me?”

  “My entire life, the natural beauty of the forest has overwhelmed me with awe, yet those feelings seem incredibly foolish now that your radiance has been joyfully bestowed upon me.”

  For such a ferocious-looking creature, he sure is poetic and sweet. Perhaps he is gentle; or perhaps I have tamed him, somehow.

  Fen rubbed his nose against her body and she stroked his back. This went on for quite some time and Red eventually had both of her arms wrapped around the great beast, running her soft fingers through and around his fur, scratching and massaging without fear. He brought his paws up to her body, and she tipped over, losing her balance, and fell onto the bed of roses.

  Fen was on top of her and she continued to rub the sides of his body as he ran his head against hers. Red felt as though Fen was like a household pet at that moment, and she was not afraid, even as his teeth brushed against her neck. The wolf was gentle with her, and she felt he would not hurt her. I would rather have this wolf on my side. I do not want him to be angry with me, and also he can protect me from the terrifying creatures in the forest that everyone has warned me about.

  From Fen’s mouth emerged the largest tongue she had ever seen. It was larger than her head and dripping wet. He licked her neck and the side of her face lovingly. Red was always very cognizant of her cleanliness, but as her back was now covered in a layer of dirt, her body scratched and bruised, it no longer seemed to matter, so she allowed his tongue to touch her. It was soothing on her skin, and she sighed as he licked the bruises on her arms, taking away the pain.

  Red instinctively wrapped her legs tighter around his body, feeling his underbelly slide across her inner thighs. Fen feverishly tugged on her clothing, and his teeth dug into her blouse, ripping it open and revealing her giant, milky white mounds.