The words on the page before him were written in a flowing, elegant script on a yellowing parchment, with intricate pictures positioned on the opposite page.

The first picture held a scene of a happy couple under a trellis, the sillouette of a woman in a wedding dress, with flowers in her hand, stood opposite of that of a large man wearing a suit. A bright red cloth and axe sat towards the bottom of the page, giving a sharp contrast to the black sillouettes. The words read, “Once there was a beautiful girl, whose mother loved her so much that her mother made a beautiful red cloak to wear so she would keep warm. The girl loved the cloak, and would always wear it wherever she went. However, one day, the beautiful girl was caught by an evil wolf, who wanted to rip the girl to shreds and eat her. The beautiful girl was saved from the wolf by a large muscular man with a sharp ax, who cleaved the monster in half. The beautiful girl and the large man eventually fell in love and were married, and they left their beloved possessions behind.”

Sketch turned the next page cautiously, not wanting to let his guard down in a strange house. The next page had a picture of the cloak and ax, still bright red, inside of what looked like a wooden chest. “The beautiful cloak and sharp ax were forgotten about, locked away for years. The cloak still yearned to be worn by the girl, and the ax wanted to bite into wood again, both desired nothing more than to be used once again.”

The next page had a picture of an old woman in bed, her eyes closed and her hand held by an old man. The red cloak laid out over the woman, the red ax laying against the chair that the man sat in. “Eventually the beautiful girl got old, her beauty faded and her body grew frail. One cold day, she grew very sick, and her husband, now without his muscles and strength, stood by her side day and night. During one night, she complained about the cold and asked her husband to find extra blankets to help her keep warm. He searched through the whole house, yet could find no more blankets for his wife. Eventually, he opened the trunk where the red cloak and ax were stored. The husband held the two objects for a moment, allowing the memories to fill him. With a smile, he brought the cloak the cloak back to his wife and laid it upon her. He laid the ax down next to a chair and sat down. He told her the story of how they met, deep into the night.”

The storyteller turned the page once more. A picture of the cloak on an empty bed, with the ax sitting upon an empty chair appeared. “Eventually, the woman passed away, and with a broken heart, the husband followed soon after. The cloak and ax sat in an empty room, waiting for their owners to return. As the days passed on and the dust covered the objects, they began to grow even lonelier in the empty house.”

The final page had a far more macabre picture, A red cloak draped over a black shape with a wicked grin, white eyes, with a bright red ax. “The cloak and ax grew angry at once again being discarded. As time passed, the story of the beautiful girl with the red hood became legend. As the fear of the wolf coming from the darkness to devour people grew, the ax and hood began taking on a life of their own. The anger the two shared at being loved, and forgotten caused the two to grow wicked and cruel.”

Sketch closed the book, with no more pages left to read. And behind him, he heard a loud laugh.