Prologue - Out of Character
#1 of The Tale of the Big Bad Wolf
I woke up one night, after having an extremely vivid dream. It was like I saw through the eyes of another version of me in another world. Me as my wolven fursona. I saw his day just as clearly as my own. And it sucked. I woke up with a start, and felt an overwhelming rage that I had never felt before. I logged into my computer, opened up Word, and the story flowed from my rage-stricken body and into my computer. I hafta admit, I felt a lot better after I'd finished. I hope you enjoy it.
The Big Bad Wolf ran swiftly through the forest, all four paws a blur as he made his way towards Granny's house. He had to get there before Little Red Riding Hood. He was all set to eat Granny and the kid, and saliva fell from his mouth in floods as he licked his chops. Just a little further... The wolf could see Granny's cottage just a few yards in front of him...
Crack!
The sound of thunder, something that had never before been heard in the forest, erupted over head. The wolf, surprised, put on the brakes and skid to a halt. And not a moment too soon. A strange light filled just a small portion of the sky, and the wolf sat watching it, hypnotized by the light show.
The lights in the sky coalesced, forming into a shape that was vaguely familiar to the wolf, yet he couldn't place what it was. Slowly, the light-covered form drifted down from on high, passing through tree branches and canopy-dwelling animals with ease, before landing silently at the feet of the Big Bad Wolf. The wolf, a curious creature by nature, leaned down to sniff the...thing...when the light upon it vanished...
The wolf could clearly see what it was.
A book. And from the words on the cover, it was a storybook.
The wolf hesitantly reached out a hand and flipped open the cover. There was no title page, no dedications, no bibliography, just the table of contents, the list of stories within the book. With one padded finger, the Big Bad Wolf placed his finger just beneath a title that jumped out at him.
"Little Red Riding Hood?" he whispered, confused.
The wolf's head shot up, suddenly hearing a voice that seemed to be narrating everything he did.
"Show yourself!" cried the spooked wolf.
"I cannot show myself," replied the voice. "I am the narrator. Unseen and unheard I am, to all but those who hold the Book. And it has been many a long season since a Character held the Book.'
The wolf was silent for a moment, pondering the words of the so-called narrator and listening to the supposed-to-be-unspoken narration.
Finally, the wolf spoke up. "I'm a...character?" he asked, unsure if he actually wanted to know.
The narrator chuckled. "Do you doubt my words, wolf?" he asked. "Then read your tale." The book glowed and the wolf watched in rapt fascination as the pages turned rapidly, until they fell still at the starting page of a story. Little Red Riding Hood.
The wolf, well versed as he was in the human tongue, quickly read through the pages, seeing his tale unfold before him. The meeting with Red Riding Hood, eating Granny and Red Riding Hood, the woodsman bursting in and cutting him open, thereby releasing both humans from his belly.
The Big Bad Wolf looked down at his belly, seeing what he'd thought was a scar gained from a whimsical puphood. But the woodcutter had done it...yet he was still alive. Why?
The narrator answered the unspoken question for him. "It's quite simple. Stories are always the same. Though a story may change a little with each telling, the words written in the book never change. Thus the story never changes. And thus, the characters are doomed to perform their roles until the book fades away. Then they die."
The wolf shook with fury. How dare they pre-ordain his life like this?! Forcing him to relive the same day over and over! They must pay!
"You wish revenge, do you?" asked the narrator. The wolf nodded. "Fortunately for you, you have achieved an almost mythical state of being. This state is called Out of Character, or OOC. You may do and act as you will, because the fated writings within the book no longer bind you, because you know they exist. And this book...This book is special. It will allow you to travel from your story and into other stories. Such is the nature of all books, though not usually in the literal sense. Take up the book and read a story, and you shall enter it. But beware. Death in your own story means nothing. You will simply return to life, and continue to replay your story until you come into contact with the book again. But to die in a story not your own is to die a true death. So beware..." The narrator's voice faded away.
The wolf sat for a few minutes, looking at the final page of his own story, with the picture of his mutilated corpse gracing the bottom of it. He gave a single shiver, then flipped the book back to the contents page. Quickly scanning the titles, he chose one that sounded good, then flipped to the page.
"Goldilocks and the Three Bears...Once upon a time..." As the wolf read, his body started to fade, becoming transparent as a piece of plastic wrap, before fading altogether. And thus the wolf left his world.
And Little Red Riding Hood got to meet her Granny for the first time ever...