The Killing of Wolves

Thief and (suspected) murderer Red Riding Hood joins with poor boy Pip on an unexpected journey to kill the Big Bad Wolf. Along the way, they run into a host of fairytale characters and dangerous challenges that they must overcome so Red can have her revenge on the wolf and Pip can go back to the life he used to live. But they uncover more than they thought they would, scandalous secrets straight from the heart of the Royal Family. All of a sudden, they realise the Wolf is not all it seems. Nothing will ever be the same again. Not once the truth is revealed, once and for all...

It's just a draft, so any tips or critisicm would be appreciated. Also, thanks to the Fuzz for making the amazing cover.


1. Once Upon A Time…

The gingerbread man ran along the streets that he knew like the back of his small hand. A smile flashed across his face as he realised he had escaped those who chased him, and thought that no-one could catch up with him at this point; he was wrong. Ginger strolled through the trees that stood like frozen soldiers in the bitter winter’s air, not knowing that someone was watching him.  

   Snap! Ginger jumped. He’d heard a twig break under the feet of an attacker, who he could not see. He decided to break into a run, driven by the fear that he was being followed, a sensible worry as he was yet to find out. Oh my goodness, he thought, as it dawned on him the reality of his situation. Perhaps the sound had come from overhead, among the skeletal trees, or had it come from behind him? He did not want to know, but that wouldn’t dismiss the truth. He carried on running. Above his head, his follower laughed to themselves. Soon, they would catch the gingerbread man, who had avoided even the quickest and most elite in the whole of Grimm. Run, run as fast as you can… the hunter would do just that. Soon, the hunter thought, Ginger would rue the day he ever strayed from the cosy bakery he’d once called home. Soon…

   Suddenly, the snapping sound grew louder and a rustle was added to the cacophony. The ginger bread man was startled at the swell in noise and began to run faster than he had everyone run before, though that didn’t help him. The hunter was prepared. Before he could even reach the end of the forest, an arrow flew with amazing agility and speed from a wooden bow handled by the shooter. It hit its target and it skewered the ginger bread man through his throat, just beneath his sickly marzipan smile.

   The hunter leapt and landed on the ground where Ginger lay, lithe underneath a crimson cloak that hid their face. It was a clean kill, they thought, though not the cleanest they’d ever managed: the cleanest kill would have to be Humpty Dumpty, when the killer speared the egg through the eye and he’d fallen off the wall. It had looked like an accident all of Grimm, as the King’s horses and the King’s men had arrived too late. The hunter had already removed the precious innards and yolk and sold it in the black market in the square for five gold sovereigns.

   The hunter took off their hood to reveal a feminine face. It was known well to the under current of criminals in the kingdoms of Grimm as Red Riding Hood. She lifted the dead ginger bread man from the soil and sprinted to where the forest ended and the city began. Knowing it would be thought of as valuable by some in the black market, to which she was no stranger, she decided to travel to the square to show her finding to those who might be interested in buying it. It was likely that there would be a few prepared to pay good money for the ginger bread man. Considering that the kingdoms of Grimm were home to their fair share of starving townsfolk, there were many who needed a decent meal to nourish their hollow bones. This wasn’t true for the Queen and her daughter, who ruled over their subjects with enviable plumpness. They’d been well-bred and were used to regular feeding, a rarity for anyone other than those with blue blood coursing through their veins. Obviously, Red Riding Hood (or Red) had thought about eating Ginger herself. She then realised that if she sold it to someone hungrier, she could eat for a few wonderful days. Although she would soon be hungry again, as was often the case in Grimm.

   Grimm was the official name given to the Seven Kingdoms, which were all the kingdoms that came from the Dark Days, when they were made for the people who lost their homes in the massacre and destruction caused by the Big Bad Wolf. The creature hadn’t come back into any of the seven kingdoms yet, because there were heavily armed guards protecting them. He did, however, wait in the forest for the moment that the guards would lose their concentration and he’d siege the kingdoms again. In the meantime, he waited in the forest, where young children went but did not return.

   Red had a secret vendetta against the Wolf. Everyone she held dear had lost their lives by his hands. She vowed not to rest until her hands were washed in the filth of the creature’s blood. Red went into the forest looking for the Wolf regularly, though she’d never found him or had the chance to take her revenge on the creature.

   Red hurried through the streets so she could get to the black market before sundown. The cobble-stoned streets echoed beneath her dainty, pixie-like feet before arriving outside the Pail of Water, a pub she frequented. Not that she was an alcoholic, though she would have fair reason to be one; it was just that it was silly to have a hive of illegal activity in the middle of such a busy place, so a particular venue was used. It used to be the old theatre although when that burned down, the local pub seemed the best place. There was a big cellar below the Pail of Water, which used to be a place of refuge in the time when the Big Bad Wolf was still at large, and that was alright for hosting the criminal hub of the Fifth Kingdom.

   She walked in and headed for the bar. The pub was strangely quiet, although that did not discourage Jack, the owner and barman, from flashing Red his toothy smile. He had reason to smile, too: he was married happily to his childhood sweetheart Jill and thanks to all the money he’d gotten from the black market (he got a tax of twenty gold sovereigns from each stall owner every month, because it was his cellar they were using; there were at least twenty five stall owners so he got a lot) he had recently become one of the richest merchants in the whole of Grimm. He let her down through the ladder behind the loose floorboard into the market, but not before jokingly forcing her to buy her favourite drink (Grasshopper Whisky) but she didn’t drink it.

   Red soon realised why the bar was so quiet- everyone was already down in the market. It was filled with sound and excitement, much too loud for Red’s liking so she went and carried on with her own business. Within an hour, she had sold the ginger bread man to a stall owner and then decided to move around, looking at others’ offerings. She had enough money to eat well for about three days and still had a bit to spare, so looked at some other stalls.

   After looking around for a while, (she was not impressed) she came across Goldilocks’ stall. Red liked Goldilocks. Respected her. She’d met her a few times before, always in the market, and she had to say, Goldilocks really had some good stuff. She was ageing, must have been about sixty, with a pitch black patch over the eye she’d forfeited to the bears who’s house she’d broken into all those years ago (the bears no longer gave anyone any trouble- Goldilocks had killed them. Red knew because she’d tasted the bears during her last meeting with Goldilocks: Daddy and Mummy were slightly mealy and rotten but, ironically, Baby Bear had been just right.) The same golden ringlets she’d had as a young girl were still on her head and they bobbed up and down when she laughed, a raspy sound caused by the effects of smoking and asthma combined. “‘Ow‘re you then?” she asked, without seeming like she cared no matter how Red felt.

“I’m good thank you.”

“I bet you ‘re!” she laughed. Red noticed a hint of something strange in her voice. “D’you hear ‘bout Cock Robin?”

“No,” Red answered, intrigued. “What about him?” She’d met Cock Robin before, once, maybe twice.

“‘Ees dead.”

 “Oh,” Red gasped. “How did that happen?”

Goldilocks clucked her tongue, amused. “Shot. By an arrow, no less.”

“Do they know who killed him?”

“They think they do. Got an inkling, ‘aven’nt they?”

“Well, that’s good. At least the killer won’t hurt anyone else.”

“True. But there’s only one person ‘ere ‘oo shoots with arrows.”

Red didn’t like the direction in which this conversation was heading.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Goldilocks. See you soon.”

Goldilocks chuckled darkly. “Doubt you will.”

   Red walked away from Goldilocks’ stall, climbed up the ladder, bade Jack goodnight and distanced herself from The Pail of Water and from the retired bear hunter. She decided to go home, wherever that was. She guessed it was the forest, so she rushed as the weather was cold and the night was as black as coal.

   As Red was walking, she was stopped. She couldn’t move, like her limbs were paralysed with fear. Red glanced again at the oak tree, just in case her eyes had deceived her. But, they had seen something they wished more than anything to forget.










Above was a picture which looked like her and it was then Red realised what Goldilocks had meant. It looked as if the whole of Grimm thought that she, Red Riding Hood, had murdered Cock Robin and she was to be arrested. Before she could do anything, forceful arms wrapped around her petite body and dragged her off in the direction of the police station, with which she had become familiar over the years, with the stars twinkling and Goldilocks’ sinister laughter filling her ears.



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