Grandmother turned around just as I finished tying the knot on the scarlet silk cloak I had just found in the attic. I remember her hand reaching out to me, her screaming, then everything was gone.
When I woke, I was no longer in the attic. I was in a dark forest. The trees were barren, their branches like gnarled fingers. Wind rustled through the dead leaves around my feet.
All those stories that my grandmother used to tell me… they weren’t stories. My heart began to race as I remembered her describing the glistening teeth and yellow eyes…
