A New Page

I just created a new page. To see it, just click here.

I also uploaded a new piece of artwork; another drawing of a character I created. This character’s name is Strawberry Bond and, yes, she is a cow. Just click on the link and read the outline I written and you’ll understand.

strawberry

Lastly, I’m also in the middle of writing a new novel. It isn’t finished yet, but I think you’ll like what I have so far. The summary of the novel is as followed: It’s the story of Little Red Riding Hood, but not as you know it. It had been years since the incident at her grandparents’ cottage; years since she was face to face with the serial murderer known as The Big Bad Wolf. She was until to escape death back then, but now she might not be so lucky. The Wolf has been watching her, stalking her, ever since that incident and now he’s back to finish the job. Roseate Gingerroot Hood, otherwise known as Little Red Riding Hood, needs to prepare, before the Big Bad Wolf comes and get her.

Now, here is what I have written so far:

ONCE upon a time, there was a little village girl, the prettiest that had ever been seen. Her mother doted on her. Her grandmother was even fonder, and made her a little red hood, which became her so well that everywhere she went by the name of Little Red Riding Hood

One day her mother, who had just baked some cakes, said to her: “Go and see how your grandmother is, for I have been told that she is ill. Take her a cake and this little pot of butter.”

Red Riding Hood set off at once for the house of her grandmother, who lived in another village.

On her way through a wood she met old Father Wolf. He would have very much liked to eat her, but dared not to on account of some wood-cutters who were in the forest. He asked her where she was going. The poor child, not knowing that it was dangerous to stop and listen to a wolf, said: “I am going to see my grandmother, and I am taking her a cake and a pot of butter which my mother has sent to her.”

“Does she live far away?” asked the Wolf.

“Oh yes,” replied Little Red Riding Hood; “it is yonder by the mill which you can see right below there, and it is the first house in the village.”

“Well now,” said the Wolf, “I think I shall go and see her too. I will go by this path, and you by that path, and we will see who gets there first.”

The Wolf set off running with all his might by the shorter road, and the little girl continued on her way by the longer road. As she went she amused herself by gathering nuts, running after the butterflies, and making nosegays of the wild flowers she found.”

The Wolf was not long in reaching the grandmother’s house.

He knocked. Toc. Toc.

“Who is there?”

“It is your granddaughter, Red Riding Hood,” said the Wolf, disguising his voice, “and I bring you a cake and a little pot of butter as a present from my mother.”

The worthy grandmother was in bed, not being very well, and cried out to him: “Pull out the peg and the latch will fall.”

The Wolf drew the peg and the door flew open. Then he sprang upon the poor old lady and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been more than three days without food.

After that he shut the door, lay down in grandmother’s bed, and waited for Little Red Riding Hood.

Presently she came and knocked. Toc. Toc.

“Who is there?”

Now Little Red Riding Hood on hearing the Wolf’s gruff voice was at first frightened, but thinking that her grandmother had a bad cold, she replied:

“It is your granddaughter, Red Riding Hood, and I bring you a cake and a little pot of butter from my mother.”

Softening his voice, the Wolf called out to her: “Pull out the peg and the latch will fall.”

Little Red Riding Hood drew out the peg and the door flew open.

When he saw her enter, the Wolf hid himself in the bed beneath the counterpane.

“Put the cake and the little pot of butter on the bin,” he said, “and come up on the bed with me.”

Little Red Riding Hood took off her cloak, but when she climbed up on the bed she was astonished to see how her grandmother looked in her nightgown.

“Grandmother dear!” she exclaimed, “what big arms you have!”

“The better to embrace you, my child.”

“Grandmother dear, what big legs you have!”

“The better to run with, my child.”

“Grandmother dear, what big ears you have!”

“The better to hear with, my child.”

“Grandmother dear, what big eyes you have!”

“The better to see with, my child.”

“Grandmother dear, what big teeth you have!”

“The better to eat you with!”

With these words, the wicked Wolf leapt upon Little Red Riding Hood and gobbled her up.

–         Little Red Riding Hood, Charles Perrault, 1697

Chapter 1: Grim Beginnings

I woke up to concrete brick walls and a single window blocked with iron bars. I rolled over in my cot; it was as hard as rocks. I sat up and pulled my knees against my chest. The room around me was bare; whitewashed walls, a porcelain sink, and a porcelain toilet. There was only one door, a large, green metal door, that was heavily locked from the outside. There was a little, square glass window in the door that allowed the doctors and guards to peer inside my cell. It wasn’t the first time I woken up in the asylum, but with any luck, it would the last.

I get out of my cot and started to stretched my arms and legs. From outside my door, I heard the echoes of footsteps. Soon afterwards, the sound of a baton striking the metal door. “Wake up!” A female guard yelled through the door. A face appeared in the window of the door. It was the face of a dark-skinned woman, her black hair tied into a bun and brown eyes gazing at me through the glass. She smirked and then the sound of several locks being unlocked rang out.

The female guard stepped inside my cell. She was dressed in a blue uniform that had white strips around the wrists her sleeves and around the bottom of her shirt. A brown belt that held up her pants and she wore a pair of black shoes. “Against the wall.” She ordered in a firm tone of voice.

I stepped towards the far and spend my arms and legs out against it. She patted down my legs and arms, checking for anytime that can be used as a weapon. Lucky for me, I wasn’t that crazy.

The female guard scoffed and yelled out: “Clear!” She forcedly pulled me away from the wall and motioned for me to walk forward. I stepped out of my cell and into the eerie, blue-walled hallway. “Move it!” Yelled the female guard as she shoved me in the shoulder. I start to walk down the hall.

Lockwood Asylum. According to the doctors and higher-ups, it was a happy place; a safe haven for those who suffering from antisocial behavior disorders. The façade of a happy and peaceful environment for patients is just that, a façade. Lockwood Asylum was, and will always be, heck. The place was stained with the blood and tears of their patients. The walls, which I assumed were once painted a pleasing color of blue with a hint of pink, were now fainted to reveal white bricks. As I walked down the hallway, I passed the cell doors of the other patients; I tried to ignore the frantic screams, wails, and cries as I walked. I looked up towards one of the windows and for a moment I envisioned that I could fly out the window, but then I remember that they were barred with thick iron bars like the rest of the windows in this accursed place.

“Keep moving!” Yelled the female guard. She shoved me in the shoulder as she shouted, causing me to almost tumble forward onto the floor. Luckily, I was able to catch myself in time. “Walk!” She ordered again. I kept walking.

We arrived at a set of double doors. Standing beside them was a pair of two male guards dressed in the same uniform as the female guard. The guard on the left was sickly pale, bald, and has pale blue eyes that looked like they could stare into my soul; he looked to have several years’ experience in this place. The guard on the right has dark hair to his shoulder, gentle brown eyes, and looked as though he spent an hour under a sunbed; he might be youngest guard here.

The older guard sneered the moment he saw me. I shot draggers at him with my eyes. “This one’s transferring I presume?” He asked.

“Release.” Answered the female guard.

The older guard tried and failed to silence a laugh. The female guard laughed along with him. Meanwhile, the younger guard was smiling at me, but I could tell that he was torn. Over what, I didn’t know at the time.

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