As soon as you walk in, you realize something is wrong— very wrong. Grandmother is nowhere to be seen, but Stripe is standing by the bed putting on her pajamas.
“What the heck are you doing?” you say.
“Digesting a nice dinner,” the wolf says calmly.
“Where’s Grandmother?”
“I knew that phone number you gave me was fake, kid, so I followed you here. While you waited in the lobby, I climbed the fire escape.”
“Where’s Grandmother?” you repeat.
“Such a lovely woman,” Stripe says. “And so delicious.”
You turn to run, but the wolf is quicker. With both paws he lifts you high over his gaping mouth, then lowers you headfirst down his throat. The saliva coats you, and his slimy throat muscles contract and pull your head down as he shoves your legs deeper into his mouth with his fists.
You throw elbows and try to kick, but you can’t move. It’s like being in an extremely tight, slippery sleeping bag. You can’t breathe. Just as you are about to black out, you feel a wrinkly hand grab hold of yours. At least you and Grandmother will go down together.
THE END