#desire

(Another version of Little Red Riding Hood)

I am very nostalgic when it comes to storytelling and little red riding Hood was one of the base for the poem that became a story that adventure into my world of romantic storytelling.

From this poem I written

But What If I Want To Be Eaten?

"I see you have fine taste,"

the Wolf said, eyeing my basket of flowers,

"step off of the path, if you'd like to,

and we'll while away a few hours."

"Don't do it!" the Huntsman cried out,

"Think of your honor, your virtue!

He's a jerk, you don't know any better.

Come with me, and I never will hurt you."

A typical Nice Guy, the Huntsman:

his aim is to own and defeat me

"Wolf," I said, "you want what I want,

so get on your knees then, and eat me."

From there I was challenged to write a short story from this

Background

Story where innocence meets temptation in the forest. Eric, a wolf, is drawn to the innocent Red, who is engaged to the huntsman. Red’s inner conflict is revealed as she encounters Eric, who offers her a choice to be free. Ultimately, Red chooses the wild over her innocence, a decision that marks the beginning of something dangerous yet beautiful.

Version 1

The Wolf and Red’s Forbidden Basket

Red was no longer the naive girl of old tales; she was a young woman on the cusp of discovering herself. The woods weren’t a place of fear but a sanctuary where she often wandered, wearing the crimson cloak that accentuated her fiery spirit. Tucked inside her basket wasn’t just the usual bread and wine, but the weight of a promise—a promise made to the Huntsman who had claimed her heart and vowed to protect her. The promise ring on her finger sparkled like the morning dew, a constant reminder of her commitment to give her most sacred treasure—her virginity—to him when the time was right.

But the Wolf had been watching. Eric, the Wolf in human form, was no mere predator; he was a master of seduction, his charm as disarming as his piercing amber eyes. He had been drawn to Red’s boldness, the way she moved through the forest as though she owned it. He wanted more than her company; he wanted what she carried in her basket—her innocence.

One day, as Red made her way to the Huntsman’s cabin, Eric stepped onto the path. His grin was playful but dangerous, his voice low and smooth.

“Little Red, where are you off to in such a hurry? Shouldn’t you rest a while? The woods can be so exhausting.”

Red clutched her basket tighter, her cheeks flushing. “The Huntsman is waiting for me. I can’t linger.”

Eric chuckled, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “Ah, the Huntsman. Such a lucky man, to have your loyalty. But tell me, Red, are you sure he’s worthy of everything in that basket? Or are you simply bound by a promise you made when you were too young to know your own desires?”

His words sent a shiver through her, awakening something she hadn’t yet acknowledged—a curiosity about the forbidden, the possibility of defying the path she had always walked. Still, she held her ground.

“My promise isn’t something I take lightly, Wolf.”

Eric leaned in, his voice a seductive whisper. “Promises can be broken, little one. Desire doesn’t play by the rules.”

As the days passed, Eric didn’t relent. He appeared in the woods again and again, each time pulling Red deeper into his web. He didn’t just chase her physically but toyed with her mind, making her question her choices and feel the pull of her own desires.

Red found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain. His touch lingered in her thoughts, his voice echoed in her dreams. And yet, the ring on her finger burned like a brand, tethering her to the promise she had made to the Huntsman.

One evening, unable to resist her growing curiosity, Red ventured into the woods, seeking Eric out. She told herself it was to confront him, to tell him to stop. But when she found him by a moonlit stream, his shirt unbuttoned, his raw beauty undeniable, her resolve wavered.

“What do you want from me, Eric?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “I want you to see that you are more than your promises. That you are a woman with desires of your own, and you deserve to choose who gets your basket.”

The tension between them was electric, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. Eric didn’t touch her, didn’t force her hand. He simply waited, letting her make the choice