Scarlet

By Ella Wong

Scarlet shouldn’t have been there.

She should have taken the sweet cakes and hot pear soup straight to Grandmother’s house, then come straight home.

She shouldn’t have strayed from the path.

But there was something about the forest—the rustle of its shadows, or perhaps the gleam of fruits jewelling the trees—something quietly enchanting that drew her feet into its shade.

And now she was lost, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Well, at least she had given the food to Grandmother already.

Scarlet drew her rust-red locks tighter around her. The cascading cape of crimson hair had earned her the nickname “Little Red Riding Hood”, a name she wasn’t sure she liked.

The blazing red stood out in a forest like this. Her hair was a flame in the gloom, bright and unmissable. She might as well have been screaming “HERE I AM!” to any wolves nearby.

Scarlet glanced at the sun, bright and glowing, a garnet sinking beneath the hills. Night would fall soon, and then she would truly be vulnerable.

She had promised her mother she’d be back before the moon rose, and the stars were already winking to life.

She would have to hurry.

Scarlet strode towards the dropping sun. She remembered seeing the sun rise from her window that morning, so this had to be the right way. 

Or at least she hoped so.

Withered leaves crackled beneath her boots, the last of the crimson sunshine glinting off the buckles. The shadows stretched longer, taller, and an icy hand clamped down on her shoulder.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Scarlet whirled around, wrenching away.

“No need to be so frightened, young lady.” The silken words melted into the night. 

She narrowed her eyes. Every inch of the man seemed polite and proper, but the most dangerous wolves were the ones who hid their teeth.

Still…she was terribly lost, and maybe she could use him to get home.

“Where do you live?” he said, holding out a velvet-clad arm. She didn’t take it. “Perhaps I can escort you to your house.”

“That’s terribly kind of you, sir,” she said, keeping her distance. “I’m sure you’re a very clever gentleman.”

He stood a little straighter, eyes slackening with a gleam of smugness. 

Scarlet said her next words carefully. One wrong move and this wolf would bite. “So of course you know how dangerous these woods are.”

“Yes,” he said quickly, “which is why I should escort you.”

He was sharp. Scarlet hurried on.

“You’re a handsome young man,” she cooed. Her feet shuffled the tiniest bit backwards. Slowly, slowly, she edged away from him. “I should hate for you to be savaged by some fearsome beast. Perhaps you should escort me to the path first; then we can make our way home from there. It’ll be safer. Of course you see the reason in that; you’re a sensible man.”

Even wolves could be outsmarted. She could see the cogs whirring in his head, his mind clouded with compliments.

“Very well. I shall escort you to the path.” 

Scarlet didn’t miss the swagger in his steps.

She followed behind him, and fed him flattery every now and then, so he wouldn’t realise how far she was pulling the distance between them.

When at last she saw a sliver of the path, shining through the trees, the sky was dark.

Stars flecked the night, and a chill wind skimmed through the leaves.

She didn’t have much time.

Scarlet ducked behind a bush, hiding her flaming hair in its leaves. She held her breath.

It didn’t take long for the man to realise she wasn’t there. His voice rang in her ears, and her heart thumped faster, harder in her chest. “Young lady?”

She didn’t move.

Scarlet heard the leaves crackling, knew he was striding back, looking for her.

She was a prize he had hunted, and his pride wouldn’t let her go.

She squeezed her eyes shut and curled into the shadow of the bush, praying it was dark enough for him not to see her.

The crunch of leaves, closer and louder, closer and louder and louder and closer—

And fading.

Her eyes flew open and she chanced a glance.

He was wandering away from her, calling young lady.

Her gaze darted to the path. It was so close! From there she would be able to follow it home.

But if she dared move…he would hear her, and turn back. 

She swallowed. Hiding here forever wouldn’t help her, either.

Moonlight was beginning to wash the horizon. Soon the shadows would fade, and the first thing he’d see was the bright red of her hair.

So Scarlet clapped both hands tight over her thigh and screamed.

She screamed and screamed till her throat was raw, her echoes shattering the sky.

Birds flocked away, fleeing from the awful shriek. She twisted every morsel of her fear into that scream, shuddering as the man ran back towards her.

“There you are!” he cried. “It’s dangerous to wander the woods alone—”

“Stay back!” she yelled, as loudly as she dared. Scarlet thrust her face into the shadows, her shoulders shaking. With any luck, he would think she was crying. “There’s a—a snake.”

“A snake?”

She nodded, hands clenching over her leg. “It—it bit—it bit me. H-here.”

“Show me.”

“I can’t!” she wailed. “It h-hurts so—t-too much.”

Fear flitted across his face. “Does it burn?”

She nodded. “It—it’s sp-spreading. My belly hu-hurts too.”

She released another scream, hoping against hope it would be enough to scare him away.

“What did it look like, the snake that bit you?”

She picked the most venomous one she knew. “Gr-grey all over, with—with a m-mouth black as—as tar.”

He recoiled, and she kicked a few leaves, feigning a spasm. She jerked an arm, let terror-thickened saliva dribble from her lips.

“You…you wait here. I’m going to get help,” he mumbled, staggering backwards—and then he fled.

But he wasn’t going to get help. Scarlet knew that much. No one survived a bite from the black-mouthed snake; he would be wasting his time if she really had been bitten.

Besides, there was no help here for miles.

Scarlet stood and ran, her hair flying wild and free, flaming crimson. 

When her boots hit the path the bright chink was sweeter than honey.