Little Red

It was a waxing, gibbous moon and Cassandra felt calm and at ease as she stepped out that February night with frost upon the trees.. It was only a mile to grandmothers house, she'd walked it many times but not when the moon was waxing gibbous and always in warmer climes. With hood pulled tight 'round golden tresses she sallied forth in the night pulling her cloak tight round her shoulders as the wind began to bite. The leaves and twigs beneath her feet crackled in the frosty air as the lycanthrope stirred from slumber and quietly left his lair. On and on Cassandra trudged through darkening, deepening wood, bony fingers of witch elm and woodbine snatching against her hood. The solitary sound of a hooting owl punctuated the sepulchral night and the steady beat of her fleeting heart leapt with a frisson of pure fright. Her quickening step was matched it seemed by an unseen fellow traveller and the thought of what could be dogging her steps started to unravel her. Her breath, now laboured, came in gasps, her eyes wide with anticipation suddenly, he was there, handsome, suave and debonair, divine pacification. "It's late to be out here in these woods," his mellifluous tones hypnotic, "I'd like to be of service, if I could," the effect on Cassandra, erotic. She fell against him in a rush and gushed,"Thank god you're here!" "There, there,"he crooned, "it's alright now, you've nothing more to fear." The power of the moon on the tides of the Earth exerts an awesome pull and, through broken cloud the gibbous moon had waxed it's way to full. Cassandra felt the strangers muscles undulate under his skin and his grip had tightened around her waist as he slowly drew her in. She looked into eyes bloodshot and cruel but strangely hypnotic too, and gave herself up to the animal lust which, 'til now, had been strictly taboo. His skin once so smooth was covered in hair and in place of his nose, a snout, teeth, even and white, now such a fright, yellowed and starting to sprout. As new formed fangs sank into soft, yielding flesh a gasp escaped from her lips, and Cassandra felt a tingly warmth in her loins now spreading out to her hips. The beast entered into her most private place and consumed her with animal haste, as the blood left her veins her bodily remains lay ravaged, sullied, debased. So, young maidens be warned when travelling abroad, of strangers be suspicious, especially at night, when the sole source of light, is a moon that is waxing and gibbous.