The Little Red Cape

|The Little Red Cape| Chapter Eleven: Ronei

I knocked on Miss Thomas’s door.

Drew was the one who opened it.

“Wha–” I exclaimed. He pulled me in swiftly.

Swift…? I remembered the tree again. Ash.

“Why are you here? Where’s Miss Thomas?” The questions gushed out from my lips.

“I made friends with Miss Thomas,” he said, kneeling down again. “I’m here for you.”

“Me?”

“Are you the little red cape or just another red cape?”

“What are you talking about?”

He handed me a few sheets of paper. I set the basket I’d been holding on the floor, then took the paper. “‘The Little Red Cape’,” I read. After briefly skimming through the pages, I glanced at Drew skeptically. “You believe in this stuff?”

“This is a different version, rewritten by the willow tree. Really read it.”

The willow tree? As in…a fairy tale willow tree? Impossible.

I read it anyhow. In this version of “The Little Red Cape”, the girl in the red cape was the most delicious, and her cape’s weapon was…

“Ah!” That was me. The description was definitely me. “You made this up.” I shoved the paper back at Drew.

“Believe me, I did not. Do I look like I could write that?”

No, he didn’t. He looked like an illiterate, in fact. Not that it meant anything.

“But if you are the main character in this story…” A malicious gleam swam across in his eyes, nearly going unnoticed. He replaced it in an instant with an easy smile on display. “Then I’ll eat you up.”

Before I could process what he was saying, he’d transformed into a wolf. Drew was still standing close as he stared into my eyes.

I guess I should’ve known sooner, that he was the wolf Kellia scared away about a year ago.

“So it was you,” I murmured with a slight nod. I threw my hood on.

My cape was a gun. Drew circled around me, trying to figure out where I really was. Once the hood was worn, I knew the only visible part of me was the weapon–in my case, the gun.

I didn’t have any previous experience of shooting a werewolf I’d talked with before, and I always thought it wouldn’t make a difference.

The truth was, it was a lot harder. That was due to the impression that the wolf on front of me seemed a lot more human now, instead of just an animal.

I could finally shoot when he took his plunge.

The worst part of this werewolf-killing business is, they turn back human when they die.

In my eyes, it was Drew I had killed–a human male being–instead of a random wolf in the woods. The difference, you know? The blood of a wolf and the blood of a human…the difference.

← Chapter Ten: Kellia
Chapter Twelve: Ronei →
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