The ending of The Little Red Riding Hood, in the perspective of the wolf.
As the woodcutter slit my chest open, I played dead. I was in so much pain but I had to lay there and bleed out until they were gone. What they didn't know is that I wasn't dead after all.
Once they finally were gone, I ran as fast I could to Grandma's house, leaving a trail of blood.
Little Red Riding Hood's Grandma, my closest friend, fixed me up with a few stitches and lay there with me for a while. She promised to hide me from her granddaughter, in fear that she would try to kill me again.
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