Blood RED Read online

  Short, Scary Tales Publications

  Birmingham, England

  - 2016 -

  Copyright ©2015 Paul Kane

  Introduction copyright ©2015 Alison Littlewood

  Cover art copyright ©1998 Dave McKean

  RED (previously published by Skullvines Press, 2008.

  Cover art copyright ©1994 Dave McKean.)

  Blood RED (original to this edition) copyright ©2015 Paul Kane

  RED and Blood RED title logos copyright ©2015 Dave McKean

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission from the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-909640-46-7

  2016 SST Publications eBook Edition

  Published by

  Short, Scary Tales Publications

  15 North Roundhay

  Stechford

  Birmingham

  B33 9PE

  England

  www.sstpublications.co.uk

  eBook design by Paul Fry

  First Digital Edition: January 2016

  PRAISE FOR RED

  ‘RED not only tips its hat to “Little Red Riding Hood,” but “Peter And The Wolf,” and “Who’s Afraid Of The Big Bad Wolf?” and every werewolf type motif in between... This time around Kane puts a twisted horror spin to it, with even a fair amount of social criticism thrown in for good measure... Kane does an incredible job of combining horror and humor into one tasty morsel.’

  (Cemetery Dance Magazine)

  ‘Kane expands on the “Little Red Riding Hood” mythos with a sharply-written novella that pits a descendent of the classic fairy tale character against the “real” creature of the same story. But make NO mistake: this isn’t for kids! You can tell Kane had a real ball twisting time updating “Riding Hood”, especially in how he has crafted this new, psycho-sexual “wolf.” For the sake of not ruining anything else, let’s just say RED is a real BLOODY good time.’

  (Horror Fiction Review)

  ‘RED is a gleefully gruesome tale that moves at an excellent pace. Its length is a joy, reminiscent of a line from another fairy tale: “Not too big, not too small, just right.” Paul Kane does a rip-roaring rendition of the Red Riding Hood story… He has the gift of summing up a situation in a sentence. RED is wonderfully written; it is easy to sink one’s teeth into it and devour it with relish.’

  (Hellnotes)

  ‘This is a good scary story for those stormy nights or bright days. It is strong enough to terrify either way and will stay in your mind for days afterwards. Stories like this don’t come along very often, as all readers know.’

  (Horror Bound Magazine)

  ‘RED is bloody brilliant – clever, classy and bound to chill you to the bone!’

  (Horror World)

  ‘Paul Kane has enriched the werewolf mythos with a seamless re-imagining of a hypnotically suggestive fairy tale, embellishing it with the harsh, alluring scent of an ages-old psychosexual predator who easily rivals that other undead villain from Eastern European folklore, the vampire. A relentless and grisly fairy tale for dark times, RED is filled with the blackest blood from the deepest parts of our bodies, and is thoroughly recommended.’

  (Mathew Riley, BookGeeks)

  ‘From RED’s shocking first chapter through wicked twists and turns to the end, the story surprises, intrigues and beguiles you. Paul Kane’s taut, muscular, yet descriptive prose conjures up disturbing images in your mind that you won’t be able to dislodge for months. Kane’s writing is frighteningly realistic… RED is a beautifully visceral, dark tale and if any novella was ripe for a film adaptation, it’s this one.’

  (Barbie Wilde, Female Cenobite in Hellbound: Hellraiser II and author of The Venus Complex)

  OTHER BOOKS BY PAUL KANE:

  NOVELS

  Arrowhead

  Broken Arrow

  Arrowland

  Hooded Man (Omnibus)

  The Gemini Factor

  Of Darkness and Light

  Lunar

  Sleeper(s)

  The Rainbow Man (as P.B. Kane)

  NOVELLAS

  Signs of Life

  The Lazarus Condition

  Dalton Quayle Rides Out

  RED

  Pain Cages

  Creakers (chapbook)

  The Curse of the Wolf (chapbook)

  The Bric-a-Brac Man

  COLLECTIONS

  Alone (In the Dark)

  Touching the Flame

  FunnyBones

  Peripheral Visions

  The Adventures of Dalton Quayle

  Shadow Writer

  The Butterfly Man and Other Stories

  The Spaces Between

  GHOSTS

  MONSTERS

  EDITOR & CO-EDITOR

  Shadow Writers Vol. 1 & 2

  Terror Tales #1-4

  Top International Horror

  Albions Alptraume: Zombies

  The British Fantasy Society: A Celebration

  Hellbound Hearts

  The Mammoth Book of Body Horror

  A Carnivàle of Horror: Dark Tales from the Fairground

  Beyond Rue Morgue

  NON-FICTION

  Contemporary North American Film Directors: A Wallflower Critical Guide (Major Contributor)

  Cinema Macabre (Contributor)

  The Hellraiser Films and Their Legacy

  Voices in the Dark

  Shadow Writer – The Non-Fiction. Vol. 1: Reviews

  Shadow Writer – The Non-Fiction. Vol. 2: Articles & Essays

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My thanks to Paul Fry at SST for his unrelenting enthusiasm, not only for this project, but also a few others we have in the works. A huge thank you to Alison for agreeing to do the intro, and to Dave McKean for the superb cover—I couldn’t imagine anyone else providing them for the RED books now. As usual, hugs and massive thank yous to all my friends in the writing and film/TV world, for their continual help and support. A very special thank you, though, to people like Clive Barker, Neil Gaiman, Stephen Jones, Mandy Slater, Amanda Foubister, Christopher Fowler, Stephen Volk, Tim Lebbon, Kelley Armstrong, the two Nancys—Holder & Kilpatrick—Peter James, Mike Carey, Barbie Wilde, Nicholas Vince, John Connolly, Pete & Nicky Crowther, Simon Clark, Will Hill and so many more. You’re all the best! Last, but never, ever least, a big ‘words are not enough’ thank you to my incredible family—especially my brilliant daughter Jen and my supportive wife Marie. Love you guys more than words can say.

  CONTENTS

  Title

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Praise

  Introduction

  RED

  Blood RED

  Biographies

  INTRODUCTION

  ALISON LITTLEWOOD

  Seven years later ... it’s a period of time with a suitably fairy tale ring to it. It is appropriate, then, that this is the time when Paul Kane has revisited RED, his dark and twisted take on Little Red Riding Hood of 2008, and produced his sequel, Blood RED.

 
Fairy tales have been told down the centuries, changing and adapting to meet the age in which they happen to find themselves. Once upon a time they were told around the fire, and the dangers they spoke of were real: real forests in which to become lost, real wolves to tear out your throat. Little Red is cast into that dangerous world, and she needs her wits about her, should she stray from the path.

  Later, when gatherers of folklore began to write them down, fairy tales began to be used in new ways. Charles Perrault added his own ‘moral’ as a postscript to Little Red, reconfiguring it as a lesson: listen to your mother or suffer the consequences. His version became an instructional tale for aristocratic youngsters, and the character of Little Red was weakened as a result, no longer using her own cunning to face the dangers of the world but learning the hard way to do what she’s told.

  Fairy tales have a way of adapting. It’s how they endure. Handed down from mouth to mouth, once passed on by old matrons and itinerant traders and other storytellers, they have escaped into the wild, no longer in one form but in many. Still, they appeal to the essential fears and concerns within us: fears of the unknown, of falling into darkness, of being brutalised.

  Paul Kane’s version of Little Red is a more than fitting adaptation for a modern world. A concrete jungle takes the place of the forest. The danger from the human beasts found within are all too recognisable; our newspaper headlines are full of it. It can strike indiscriminately and without warning. Bad things can happen to good people, whether they’ve strayed from the path or not.

  In a world without the simple morality of Perrault or the Grimms, nothing is as it appears. The beast could be anyone; it could even reside within. The world Kane creates is complex. It has shades of grey as well as black and white, and the same is true of his characters. They are no simple types; they have layers and depth, which makes the horror into which they are cast all the more frightening. His adaptation is thoroughly modern and suitably dangerous, and our ability to find the right path is ever more uncertain.

  I adored fairy tales as a small child, and I enjoyed reading Blood RED. Whilst being modern, it keeps returning in new and apt ways to the early version we know from the nursery, paying its dues while reinterpreting the tale in ways that will give you the shivers. And Kane is adept at putting flesh on the bones: all the more horrifying, my dear, when he strips it off again.

  Alison Littlewood

  South Yorkshire

  April 2015

  For Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. Masters of dream, myth and fable.

  PROLOGUE

  Her husband was a stranger tonight—and she’d never been so happy.

  In the last couple of years, Michelle and Tony Marsden had drifted apart, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.

  It had happened slowly and subtly.

  Nothing she could really put her finger on, just a general apathy regarding their union that both of them felt, yet neither would broach. It was almost as though their marriage was some fragile culture being grown in a lab, which at any moment might break down and vanish, and the scientists could do nothing but stand by and watch.

  Their wedding day had been a wonderful affair—full of happiness, love and hope. But like the beautiful tiered cake they’d cut into, cracking the icing and destroying its perfect shape, nothing lasts forever. There had been tears in her eyes as he said his vows, promising to love her for all time, to be her shelter in stormy weather. She never thought it was possible to feel this way about another human being. But in the months that followed, there had been tears in her eyes on any number of occasions ... for altogether different reasons.

  They’d married too soon, she could see that looking back. After meeting at a mutual friend’s housewarming party, they seemed to click: same taste in music, same love of the arts and literature—especially the classics—same wanderlust that took the pair to almost every country on the planet. Within a few weeks, they were holidaying together, Tony whisking her off to Venice. There, in a secluded little restaurant away from the tourists, he’d proposed to her, getting down on one knee and bringing out a diamond ring. She’d needed time to think, of course. It was a decision she’d have to live with for the rest of her natural life (she was an old-fashioned girl in that respect, regardless of what the divorce statistics said). Tony, ever the gentleman, gave her that time.

  Her friends were all jealous. Tony was quite a catch, they’d proclaimed. A decent job working in life insurance—a good, stable profession—a nice car, but most importantly, those Colin Farrell looks (with a body to match, she’d boasted after a few drinks one night). When her closest friend asked what she was waiting for, Michelle asked herself the same question. It was obvious the man adored her.

  Michelle’s family was more sceptical. “You’ve only known him five minutes,” said her father, which she had to admit was right.

  Her mother reserved judgement until she’d met Tony, and after suitably impressing her by bringing along flowers and chocolates, she’d said to her own husband, “Now, George, sometimes a woman just knows when she’s found ‘the one’ ...” Michelle’s father had snorted, but she could tell that in spite of his protestations—and the fact that no man she’d ever brought to meet them had been good enough—he grudgingly approved of Tony.

  Michelle accepted the proposal after a night out at the cinema: the Regal was hosting a special screening of Casablanca, one of her all-time favourite films. She’d sat there and watched again as Ingrid and Humphrey said goodbye, and resolved that she would never let her one true love go like that. Ever. The rest, as they say, was history.

  “More wine?” asked Tony now, pouring another glassful of the deep red Bordeaux into her glass. She smiled a thank you, and he blew a kiss back.

  She still couldn’t quite believe what had happened this weekend. This was a Tony she didn’t know; or rather, it was the Tony she used to know back when they first got together. Perhaps the other Tony, the one who’d taken their relationship for granted as soon as that band of gold had slid onto her finger, had been the stranger, not this man. The Tony who’d been content to watch the news or football—he’d kept that particular interest well under wraps when they initially started seeing each other—of an evening instead of going out, or even coming to bed, definitely wasn’t the man she’d walked up that aisle for. Nor was this Tony too busy with work, too obsessed with getting a promotion to take her away—in spite of her heavy-handed hints, leaving brochures scattered about the place.

  “If you want to go, love, you go,” he’d say. But she’d done all the travelling alone she wanted to do. Now she wanted someone to share it with.

  It wasn’t that Tony had been nasty or anything to her; far from it. Sometimes she wished he’d take enough interest to get drawn into a row. At least then she might get a little passion from him, something that was sadly lacking in their life at the moment. He’d still buy her things, or more often than not let her buy things on his card. But money, as all those wise philosophisers were so fond of stating, wasn’t everything. Besides which, she still had a job at the local infant school in the admin department—there was money of her own coming in.

  (That was another area where Michelle was unable to get through to Tony. Seeing all those little faces made her think more and more about her biological clock, but as far as her husband was concerned, kids were something to ‘think about’ in the future. If only they’d talked about it before getting hitched, sounded each other out about their feelings ...)

  As the couple grew more distant, and the life Michelle thought she’d be leading slipped gradually away from her, she began to think that her father had been right all along. They hadn’t known each other five minutes before committing, and that one simple mistake was going to cost her a lifetime of happiness—while the inches between them increased in the matrimonial bed, neither one even touching the other any more.

  But they
were touching each other now, weren’t they? Tony’s hand across the table, holding hers so tightly. Their feet finding each other’s legs under the tablecloth. Michelle took a swig of the freshly-poured wine, the perfect accompaniment to the stuffed peppers they’d had for starters, the spaghetti carbonara for main, and for dessert ... Ah, well, she thought impishly, we may not even have that here at all!

  She’d thought everything was lost when Tony had announced he was going away Friday night to Sunday morning on business—the latest in a long line of trips. If she’d been the jealous type, she might have suspected he was up to something behind her back. But Tony couldn’t even be bothered with the one woman he had, let alone complicating things with a mistress. Anyway, she’d followed him—twice—just to make sure. It was exactly as he’d said: business, strictly business, meeting middle-aged men in hotel lounges and bars to talk about the prospect of making money from the fear of death. That’s when he wasn’t spending hours in the car travelling to such obscure locations.

  And she might have been worried again about the Tony that returned early Saturday to surprise her with dinner booked for two at a cosy Italian on the outskirts of town, a reminder of a time long ago. “Client backed out at the last minute, so I drove home,” he told her. But far from seeming disappointed by this, Tony was positively chipper. “Means I get to spend the weekend with my lovely wife,” he’d said before presenting her with a big bunch of roses.

  Michelle looked at him sideways. Was this to make up for something he’d done? Yet the more he talked, the more she realised it was to make up for something he hadn’t. “I know I’ve been neglecting you lately,” Tony said, “but all that’s going to change from now on. I’m going to pay you more attention—starting right now!”