With his death announced, she wondered if she should tell it but surely not at the funeral. It must of been an insult to show up at the man's funeral. She sat in the front row, hand on her belly, small yet visibly pregnant. Before he died, he handed her off, she threatened to tell so he gave her as much money to get rid of it.

It was a strange feeling to stare at the grave stones especially his, it must of been an insult to show up like this, she wondered how he would feel knowing the fact he had a technical third child but by another woman.

She tried not to think of it and placed a rose near his trademark top hat. Before he died, she argued she was going to keep it. He showed off that devilish grin, years after his death, the child was about 5 years old and she couldn't help but notice of much he looked like his father. Amber eyes, ebony color, even his hair has a wave to it when he smiled she couldn't help but see him and then see another face. It almost felt like he wasn't her own. She had his father's tusk, his teeth were small but pointed, she put silver caps on them because the child complained about his teeth poking his upper lip.

The worst fear was giving her son up, her precious son. She couldn't stand the fact that he would live in this world of Wonderland filled with a disease that could drive a man crazy.

She left him in the house by himself. It did feel like she was gone long and he felt abandoned, his mother taught him to take the cloak and hide himself and he swung the red cloak over his shoulders in fear. He hid in the closet, held his breath as he eyed the beast on two legs. The wolf had a crazy eyed look, pupils had swirled and drool leaked from his jowls.

He sniffed the air, searching, the wolf had that Cheshire grin as he darted at the closet. The little one trembled and pulled the cloak tightly around him, he could hear him breathing. This wold had caught the madness, a plague that affected the blood. He flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and slowly lowered to the ground and approaching the closet on all fours.

Where was his mother? Why had she been gone so long? If it catches him, will he die? He wouldn't want that, to be chewed away by a mad animal. He saw the wolves eyes through the crack of that door but he could not see him. His eyes were colorless, grey, dull, dead and it was possible that this was an old dog, a blind one at that.

The wolf stood on two legs, grabbed the closet and slammed it down with the boy inside. He couldn't get out if he out the closet doors were against the floor and he knew that his life was in danger then ever before. The animal clawed at the back of the closet, the sounds of scratching were loud. His nails tearing away the wood enough so he could break through and grab the boy.

Hoodie never wanted to come home to such a tragedy, she kicked the dog in the jaw away from her son. She grabbed him from the ground, the wolf had bitten his side. She feared her child was never death, with her child in one arm she picked up the cross bow on living room table. She had it in her sights and only got him by the eye before she could fire again he leaped out of the window. She forced back on her son, she had to stop the bleeding, even though his eyes were closed she knew well her son wasn't dead. The sight of his sky blue blood on her hands. She could see the black spots already.

Maybe it won't be so bad, she thought, maybe the infection won't grow. Maybe he's like his father and he has immunity to it.

It won't grow....

It won't grow....

I can't... lose my son...