Chapter 1//The Girl in the Red Hood
"Red. hide here, quick!"
"Don't worry. Mother will be back soon."
".NO! STAY AWAY—!!"
The flames burned without mercy, devouring all in their path. The house, once so warm and full of memories, now collapsed in on itself like a dying star. Picture frames, books, toys—every last vestige of a family's legacy—were reduced to smoke.
At the center of that living hell, a girl was paralyzed.
Her frail form trembled as she faced the giant creature before her: a lycan. Its eyes gleamed with hunger, its body covered with her family's blood. Her mother, wounded and gasping, could barely whisper.
"R-Red. run. please."
But she couldn't.
She couldn't move.
Her legs were rooted in fear.
And the wolf. the wolf just stared back.
—————————————————————————
The sky was a flat, suffocating gray.
The forest was damp and still, save for the occasional squelch of mud and soft patter of rain through trees.
A white rabbit scurried through the underbrush, nose twitching. It paused.
Then—
BANG!
The sharp crack of a gunshot split the forest.
The rabbit's pure white fur was striped in red as it dropped.
A girl stepped out from among the trees, lowering her hunting rifle to her side with glacial calm.
A red cloak was wrapped around her figure, hood up, face obscured.
She looked down at the dead animal—expressionless.
"."
She took it by the ears and walked on deeper into the woods.
Her home was a single cabin well secluded from the world. Weathered but tended, it stood in the middle of nothing but fog and forest.
She entered, placed the rabbit on the counter, and turned the knob on an old radio. Static buzzed before landing on a smooth, gentle voice.
Radio (voix chaleureuse):
« Voilà déjà deux mois que Les Enfants de Minuit ont fait leur grand retour sur la scène musicale. Le groupe culte des années 2000, célèbre pour ses sons mêlant rock industriel et poésie urbaine… »
("It's been two months since Les Enfants de Minuit made their highly anticipated return. The legends of the 2000s—famous for mixing industrial rock with urban poetry—are taking over the country with their new album, 'Révolution Nocturne'.")
She nodded weakly, mechanically skinning the rabbit.
The air in the small cabin was thick with the smell of metal, fur, and smoke.
Then—
"AUGH!! SOMEONE HELP ME—M-MONSTERS!!"
Her hand froze.
That word. monsters.
She dashed outside.
She caught glimpses of him through the trees—a middle-aged man backing away, screaming in terror.
Three inhuman creatures moved in on him.
One moved like an ape, with thick, corded arms. The others were gaunt and long-jawed, staggering like marionettes with severed strings. Their black eyes locked on the man as they moved in.
The man screamed again.
But before the creatures could get to him—
FWUMP.
A red cloak tore through the mist like a blade. The girl fell in front of him, boots squelching in mud.
".Beat it or die. Your choice."
The man blinked.
"A-A… little girl?"
She clicked her tongue.
"Tch. I said go!."
The creatures didn't wait.
They lunged.
She raised her rifle. Three shots fired—bang bang bang—taking down two of the beasts. But the third, the ape-like one, just kept on coming.
It swung.
She rolled and dodged under the attack, quick and smooth.
Click click click.
"Empty." She laughed, low. "Guess it's axe time."
She drew from behind her back an old but well-sharpened axe.
The creature attacked again—but this time she faced it squarely.
With a rapid slash, she sliced through its fingers. The monster howled, stumbling back.
She didn't pause.
One spin—shnk—its arm was gone.
Another slash—squelch—its belly was torn open.
And as it fell to its knees—
THUNK!
She buried the axe in its skull.
Silence.
She wiped at her forehead.
"Pfft. was all that fat for show, or what? Wretched merde."
She spat on the corpse.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
She turned around.
The man she'd saved came out from behind a tree, pushing his glasses up with a smirk.
"Fascinating. That woman trained you well."
".What?"
"I've never seen a girl your age take down a beast like that. So quick. So brutal."
She narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"
"The hunter. The one who brought you up. I believe she went by. 'Grandmother'?"
Her grip on the axe tightened.
He raised his hands in mock surrender, still smiling.
And then—cold steel was pressed against her throat.
Two men in black had appeared behind her. One had a knife at her neck. The other moved forward to the dead animals and began. with a grisly efficiency, cutting off their heads.
Her eyes darted.
Tch. surrounded.
"Don't be quick," the man replied, unperturbed as ever. "Hard to explain at axepoint."
She lowered her weapon reluctantly.
The sword from her throat was withdrawn.
"Thank you," he said. "Now, let me introduce myself formally. I am the Headmaster of the Church of Hunters. The woman who raised you—an old friend of mine—sent me a letter. That's why I've come."
".She's dead."
His spectacles twinkled in the grey light. "Pardon?"
"She died defending me. Murdered by the Big Bad Wolf. the same monster who murdered my parents."
The forest was silent.
Then the Headmaster laughed softly.
"She always did say she'd prefer to die to a monster than a cold. Fitting, I suppose. Don't grieve too long, Red."
Her head snapped up.
".How do you know my name?"
"Your grandmother wrote and told me. In fact. you're the reason I'm here. She wanted you to join the Church of Hunters."
He got down on his knees and extended a hand to her.
"So. what do you say?"
"Join you?" She laughed. "No thanks. I don't need a bunch of church freaks to do what I do. Now bug off. I have stew cooking on the stove and not enough for your little groupé."
She turned to face her door.
Behind her, the voice of the Headmaster changed.
"Actually. you do."
She stopped.
"The Church of Hunters is recognized worldwide. We're funded by governments and protected by law. Whoever hunts without a license—like you—can be branded a rogue. and imprisoned for life."
So that's how it is.
Red didn't stir.
She wasn't keen on prison. Let them try.
But
If I join them. I got a license.
And if I get a license.
I get access.
And if I get access.
I get the wolf.
She turned slowly, the corner of her lips twitching.
"Hmph. fine. I'll join your church. Grandmother always used to say. give to the Catholic church."
The Headmaster chuckled.
"A wise decision. Welcome aboard, Red. Our next stop—"
He pushed his glasses up.
"—is headquarters.”
~End~
