Once upon a time, there was a girl named Red.
And our Red was hopelessly enamored with the night. She loved its sights and sounds and smells and, most of all, the taste of it. Given that Red had such a generous nature, she was naturally inclined to share her love of the night with as many folk as possible.
And so it was that every full moon, Red would rise from her cozy little crypt, yawn and stretch, and stroll towards the nearby village. She would prowl its streets for hours until she'd eventually find a suitably handsome lad. Once she'd find such a one, she would go to him and plant a passionate kiss on his neck.
Some might say a bit too passionate.
Once her impish lust was satisfied, Red would leave the youth where she found him and hurry back home, a crimson smile playing on her tender lips.
It wasn't long before the village elders caught wind of Red's mischievous antics and they couldn't help but feel pity for her.
"Why should the poor, lonely lass be forced to search our streets for a lover, sometimes for hours at a time?" one of them asked. "It's unseemly!"
"Indeed! said another. "We should make sure that each time she visits us, a young man will be waiting for her in the old barn at the edge of the village."
And so they did.
Every full moon, Red would visit the old barn and sure enough, each time there was a new lover waiting for her.
With bated breath and all wrapped up like a delicious present.
She was overjoyed by this turn of events and felt ever so grateful to the kindly village elders who had made it much easier for her to stave off her loneliness.
Things carried on this way for quite some time and everyone was happy. More or less.
Until one night.
He looked older and more rugged than her usual lovers. He stood motionless in the middle of the barn, gloomy and solemn like a marble statue.
Waiting for her.
Red drew closer and gave him a hesitant smile. She was usually fond of grim, dour men but this one was so odd. His eyes followed her, watching her every move. And such eyes they were...
"My darling," Red said, "what strange eyes you have. Slit and yellow like a viper's glare."
"The better to see you with, my dear," replied the stranger.
"And what strong arms you must have. Thick and sinewy like the thews of a bear."
"The better to embrace you with, my dear."
"And what a keen razor you have. Sharp and silvery like a slice of moonlight..."
The stranger said nothing more. Nor did Red make any further remarks.
And then they danced the night away.
And it truly was a night to remember...
And our Red was hopelessly enamored with the night. She loved its sights and sounds and smells and, most of all, the taste of it. Given that Red had such a generous nature, she was naturally inclined to share her love of the night with as many folk as possible.
And so it was that every full moon, Red would rise from her cozy little crypt, yawn and stretch, and stroll towards the nearby village. She would prowl its streets for hours until she'd eventually find a suitably handsome lad. Once she'd find such a one, she would go to him and plant a passionate kiss on his neck.
Some might say a bit too passionate.
Once her impish lust was satisfied, Red would leave the youth where she found him and hurry back home, a crimson smile playing on her tender lips.
It wasn't long before the village elders caught wind of Red's mischievous antics and they couldn't help but feel pity for her.
"Why should the poor, lonely lass be forced to search our streets for a lover, sometimes for hours at a time?" one of them asked. "It's unseemly!"
"Indeed! said another. "We should make sure that each time she visits us, a young man will be waiting for her in the old barn at the edge of the village."
And so they did.
Every full moon, Red would visit the old barn and sure enough, each time there was a new lover waiting for her.
With bated breath and all wrapped up like a delicious present.
She was overjoyed by this turn of events and felt ever so grateful to the kindly village elders who had made it much easier for her to stave off her loneliness.
Things carried on this way for quite some time and everyone was happy. More or less.
Until one night.
He looked older and more rugged than her usual lovers. He stood motionless in the middle of the barn, gloomy and solemn like a marble statue.
Waiting for her.
Red drew closer and gave him a hesitant smile. She was usually fond of grim, dour men but this one was so odd. His eyes followed her, watching her every move. And such eyes they were...
"My darling," Red said, "what strange eyes you have. Slit and yellow like a viper's glare."
"The better to see you with, my dear," replied the stranger.
"And what strong arms you must have. Thick and sinewy like the thews of a bear."
"The better to embrace you with, my dear."
"And what a keen razor you have. Sharp and silvery like a slice of moonlight..."
The stranger said nothing more. Nor did Red make any further remarks.
And then they danced the night away.
And it truly was a night to remember...