Ruby knocked on her grandmother’s door, her red hood wet from the rain. Droplets of water glistened on her basket of bread and wine.

“Come in,” a raspy voice answered.

Ruby entered the hut. A distant whirring, like static, filled the air. The vibration resonated in her hair, making her shudder.

“Come here, my dear…” At the end of the hallway, light shone from the bedroom. Ruby followed the voice. She stood in front of her grandmother’s bed. The old woman lay facing away from Ruby, her head covered by a bonnet.

“Grandma?”

The figure in the bed rolled over. Her face was that of her grandmother, but it was off. Flat eyes, an ill-fitted jaw. With a scratching metal sound, the figure began to speak: “My lovely Red Riding Hood.” A heavy hand patted Ruby’s head.

“Grandma… what happened to your teeth?”

There was no answer. Just the sound of a telescoping jaw extruding and enveloping Ruby, swallowing her whole.