The Woodsman's Curse

Once, in a village shrouded by thick, haunted woods, lived a girl known as Little Red Riding Hood. Her cloak, woven from crimson threads, seemed to glow with an eerie light in the moonlit night. Her grandmother, a woman believed to be a wise healer, lived on the far side of these foreboding woods.

One day she had the charge of carrying medicinal herbs to her ailing grandmother. As she stepped into the woods, a chilling wind whispered through the twisted branches, and the shadows seemed to stretch out like the hands of the damned.

Unbeknownst to her, a curse had settled upon the woods. Villagers whispered stories of a creature, not quite wolf, nor quite man, who roamed these woods. They said he was once a woodsman, but an ancient spell had transformed him into a beast of pure malice, driven by hunger for human flesh.

As she walked, Little Red Riding Hood felt eyes on her. Out of the dark came the cursed woodsman in his wolf form with glowing eyes and unnatural light. The wolf approached her.

"Do you know where you are headed, Little Red?" he growled. His voice echoed like the deepest abyss.

Harmlessly, she said, "To my grandmother's house, to bring her medicine."

The wolf curled his lip into a wicked grin. "Take your time, my dear. The woods are full of wonders," he purred, his voice dripping with malice. Little Red Riding Hood, frightened, hastened her pace, but did not run for fear of the woods.

While she carefully tread the path, the wolf took a shorter, darker route, slinking through shadows and brushing past long-forgotten graves and ruins of cursed families. He reached the grandmother's house and burst in, his monstrous form filling the small cottage with his dark presence.

The grandmother tried to push him off, but his strength was supernatural. He tore through the house, his claws leaving marks on the walls and his breath freezing the air. In a final, desperate scream, she fell silent, engulfed by the beast.

Putting on her clothes and tucking himself under the covers, the wolf waited. Soon, Little Red Riding Hood arrived, her face pale and eyes wide with fear.

"Grandmother, what has become of your house?" she murmured, entering.

In the bed sat the wolf in an imitation of grandmother's voice that was marbled with monstrous timbre: "Come nearer, my daughter."

Little Red lingered but edged closer as thickened anticipation pressed against the atmosphere.

"Grandmother, what great eyes you have."

"All the better to see your scared faces, my children," answered the wolf whose rictus grew with his words.

"And what big eyes you have," she went on, horror growing in her heart.

"All the better to see your every movement," the wolf's voice crackled with dark delight.

"And what big teeth you have," she finally gasped, stepping back in horror.

"All the better to devour you with, my dear!" And with this, the wolf sprang up from the bed, his figure writhing and lengthening, filling the room with horror. Little Red Riding Hood shrieked, but the voice was stifled in the accursed air.

Now that the wolf has transformed fully into a monstrous beast, he lunged at Little Red Riding Hood. She attempted to run away, but the wolf's claws were swift and merciless. Her screams reverberated throughout the woods as no one came to save her. The wolf continued eating without ever satiating his hunger, and the cottage fell silent again.

The villagers noticed how the prolonged absence of Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother spurred them to enter the woods, seeing the cottage in ruins; bloodstained walls, reek of death. Two more people the curse of the woods has claimed.