The light subsides and the first thing I feel is that I am no longer cold. As my thoughts become attainable again, I can’t help but wonder if this is the afterlife. I can hear the crackle of a fire and its heat has warmed my side. I must not be dead because I know heaven is not where I would end up. So does that mean I’m alive?
I listen closely to see if I can hear anything beyond that of the fire but there is nothing else to be heard. I work to open my eyes but when they are hit by the light of the fire, I close them again for going from complete darkness of death to the light of life is too much for my eyes to take in. I try again but slower.
As my eyes begin to focus, I see the fire that has warmed me. It’s in a stone hearth and it burns with hot intensity. I look around the room the best I can without lifting my head as my strength is non existent to be able to lift my head. The room looks unfamiliar. It has the décor of a woman’s touch which confirms I am not in my own den. The drapes are open and the sun spills into the room onto the hard wood floors. There are paintings on the wall of things I would see in nature.
I wonder who would take my ragged old hide in to their home when I remember how I got into this circumstance. How I met up with you Little Red, how I was about to confess my undying love for you, how your face turned pale with fear, and the bear attack. I’m remembering mustering all my strength to track you down to make sure you were safe. I remember the cottage. Could I have been taken in to the cottage?
With the thought I breathe in deeply and my lungs are filled with the sweet scent of treats being cooked. But I smell more. I smell fresh baked bread, and stew. But the smell that starts my heart for the first time since waking up is the scent that I followed all this way.
“Little Red Riding Hood?” The words left my mouth without any warning even if it was just a whisper. I finally am able to lift my head and I search the room for the one thing I want to see. But disappointment grows as your no where to be seen. Just a room with old décor that one would expect in an old cottage in the woods.
I discover my body has been laid on a thick rug by the fire. The warmth I feel of the fire is aided by a warm, tattered blanket pulled up to my neck hiding all my wounds underneath. Only the pain reminds me that they are there. I wonder how bad my injuries are, but I’m to weak to look. So I lay my head back down as I give in. It will have to wait till later as I close my eyes again. “Little red” I whisper with one last attempt.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kzm8n0/little_red_riding_hood_pt_7_mf_fiction