The Second Visitation: Siblings Grimm, #1

By Rei Rosenquist

Little Red wears her riding hood as she enters the old forest called the Brood. In her basket, she carries meat pies to eat with Grandmother. In her heart she holds Father's warning of the wolves. But, the pack doesn't bother her.
Why?
What secrets lie in the shadows of the Brood?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rei Rosenquist
• Release date: Jan 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393194279

Rei Rosenquist

Rei Rosenquist first remembers life as seen out the high window of a hotel balcony. Down below is a courtyard, swarms of brightly dressed tourists, the beach. The memory is nothing but a blue-green washed image. Warmth and sunlight. Here, they are three years old, and this is the beginning of a nomadic story-teller’s life. Over the years, they have traveled to many countries, engaged many peoples, picked up new habits, and learned new languages. But, some things never change. For them, these are stories, food service, and traveling. These three passions have bloomed from hobbies, studies, and jobs into a way of life. These days, Rei can be found in between Tokyo, Kailua, and Bellingham, Washington pouring beautiful latte art, baking off a batch of famous savory scones, and cozying up with a laptop to obsessively write mountains of dark speculative fiction. You can find Rei’s stories and blog at reirosenquist.com. You can also reach them via email at [e-mail] or connect via Facebook (Rei Rosenquist), Twitter (rylrosenquist) and Instagram (rylrosenquist).

Book preview

The Second Visitation

The Second Visitation

Little Red Riding Hood Retold

Rei Rosenquist

Contents

One

Two

Three

About the Author

One

Light strikes through the middle of the last woods alive.

And a thick magical forest, it is.

Dense with ancient oaks, red cedars, and Douglas firs. None of them give one another any elbow room. The ground is coated with orange and gold fallen leaves and the silvery sheen of shed needles. The only routes through this organic tangle are the various footpaths of small animals. Rabbits who scurry into burrows at the slightest sound. Squirrels who zip up tree trunks and dodge around in the under-growth. Birds who flit up, down, and around between branches in the fading day.

A place of secrets, rumors and spirits, the big bad ghosts of old.

Some brave human beings do go among the trees and wild things. The Hunters, they call themselves. They are a collective of the strongest and the bravest. Tireless in their goals and merciless with the beasts of old. Rumors exist of an elder woman who has spent her life living among these dark forest trees. A single lone cottage in the middle of a single small round clearing in the woods occasionally shows light in its single triangular window.

The cottage is no more than a small squat square hunkered down against the shadows of looming trees. Inside, a futon lies on a well-worn cedar floor. In the corner, a counter top of the same wood sports a small metal pot, two ceramic bowls, two porcelain plates, and two small tea mugs. A stack of logs in a woven basket lean beside a small silver wood burning stove.

Inside the stove, a fire glows. Warm, dry air pours out, full of pungent cedar burning. Atop the stove, a small copper kettle steams. There's no sharp sound accompanying the steam, but the small rectangular room echoes with the soft grumble of water that's been boiling for a while now.

Back down in the city of Briar Rose, surrounded by the honking of car horns and the wailing of alarms, a young lean body stirs under layers of blankets piled high atop a plush cushion-top spring mattress dressed in the lushest red velvet sheets. Decorative pillows all in monochrome, comprised of a wide stylistic variety, fly across the room and fall flat against the white marble floor.

A girl sits up, face tense, hair frazzled. A shaking hand wipes her sleep-crusted eyes.

Grandmother, no! The wolves-- her sleep-drenched lips say without permission.

At the sound of her own husky voice, the girl wakes. She adjusts the front of her twisted black cotton nightclothes and smooths down the ocean