[ EU ] A dystopian future where a pack of Big ( Bad ) Wolves terrorize the human population , and the only saviors are a group of female warriors donning red cloaks/hoods .

We set the fires and ran from the old woods hoping beyond hope that they would n't follow us. Our entire settlement uprooted, running, desperate. We had thought America might be free of the wolves - so many guns to fight with, so many angry hands - but we were wrong. 
 
 I had heard stories from passers by about an ancient city with buildings so high no wolf could climb it, with walls so sturdy no wolf could pierce it with their claws. The Apple, they called it. So we ran east, towards the water and the cleansing wind. 
 
 We found The Apple, or what was left of it - tall buildings brought low, grey dust and shattered glass, streets jagged like teeth and torn like flesh. 
 
 Foolish in our hope, we had put our backs to the water, and that is when the wolves came. 
 
 They lumbered into view like drunken children, crashing through ancient ruins, pulverizing anything in their way. Broad as a house and twice as tall, with teeth white as the moon, and black gums that curled into cocky sneers. When they howled the empty sky echoed. When they growled the earth bent and broke. It was a silly thing to call them wolves. They were gods, cruel and careless. They had no laws or customs. Strength was their law. Death was their custom. 
 
 `` I ca n't believe they found us. Why? There are n't even enough of us to eat,'' I heard someone say. 
 
 `` We burned the forests. We burned the trees and the rivers and the rocks. Ca n't they burn? Ca n't they die?'' said someone else. 
 
 I knew these people once. Friends, neighbors, but they all became the same animals of fear when the wolves came. Rabbits, they were. Prey. 
 
 Trapped, some people jumped into the slushy ice-water and tried to swim. I did n't have to watch to know they would sink hard to the bottom. Many hid behind great skeleton monuments. Once, perhaps, these buildings were strong and tall, but now they were moments away from dust. The wolves would tear through them like rain through paper. 
 
 I did n't run. I did n't hide. I was not a brave man but a tired one. 
 
 Though many of us ran, the wolves did n't have to. Their loping gait outstripped the fastest man ten times. They were upon me in no time. 
 
 Hope - it runs away so easily. I still had some, a little sliver left, like a coin you remember in your pocket. It was n't a hope of survival. Oh no, that had gone before we burned the forest. It was the hope that my broken bones might lodge in one of the wolves' throats. 
 
 The wolves stopped and looked at me. There were three of them. Two brown and one grey. The grey one spoke, it's voice shook the ground beneath my feet and made me kneel. 
 
 `` Hello, human,'' it said. 
 
 `` Hello.'' 
 
 `` You burned the forest,'' it said. 
 
 `` You ate my family.'' 
 
 `` Did you think you could kill us with something as human as fire?'' it asked. 
 
 `` Did you think we would just let you eat us without a fight?'' 
 
 It let out a huff that knocked me over and the shards of glass that were scattered across the ground flying into my face. They stung and opened red wounds that bled like tears. 
 
 `` We had to try!'' I shouted, anger getting the better of despair. 
 
 `` Was it your idea?'' said the wolf. 
 
 I shrugged. `` Sure, why not.'' 
 
 `` Then you will tell me where they are.'' 
 
 `` Tell you where who are?'' I asked, honestly confused. 
 
 `` The little humans that hid from us. The little humans that ran.'' 
 
 `` You can smell them. Find them yourself.'' 
 
 `` No,'' it growled. `` You will tell us. Your betrayal will be your final act, human who burned the forest.'' 
 
 `` You're not supposed to play with your food.'' 
 
 `` Food? You are not food, little human. You are sport. I eat the mountains and the seas. I eat the towns and the mines and the clouds. My grandfather ate this city when you humans thought you were so high. When my children grow large enough, perhaps they will eat the sky or the whole world.'' 
 
 `` You have a pretty big opinion of yourself,'' I said 
 
 `` Well, I am big,'' said the wolf. 
 
 `` No you're not.'' I said. `` You're just bigger than me.'' 
 
 `` Tell me where they are,'' barked the wolf. 
 
 `` Bite me.'' 
 
 The wolf lurched suddenly, and I was sure he was about to do just that, bite my head off. I figured it was probably worth it, all in all. He seemed pretty pissed, and that was the best I could hope for. 
 
 But instead of biting my head off, the wolf fell over. So did I. I felt hot and shaken up. My ears rang and my eyes felt like they had been stretched about a mile outside of my head. 
 
 I got up uneasily and saw a fireball in the sky. A massive explosion, like when some poor idiot tries to mess with an ancient technology they do n't understand. 
 
 And the wolf was on fire. He was on the ground and on fire. Half his face was gone and he was on the ground and on fire. He was dead. 
 
 I looked around frantically, trying to understand what was going on. I coudl n't understand what had happened. A wolf was dead. Something had killed a god, a monster. 
 
 Then I spotted her, red cloak billowing in the aftermath of the blast. Her hair was short and jagged. Her eyes were narrow, her nose was pointed and wrinkeld, and her face was covered in scars. She was missing her left arm, but she managed the massive firearm with one hand like it were a child's toy. Something about her made me go cold. 
 
 `` Kill the other two,'' she shouted from her vantage point, and all around more red figures appeared. 
 
 Fire ripped through the sky, and I heard the sound of cataclysm. The world had ended centuries before, and I knew that it had sounded like this. Fire and fury and people shouting `` kill.'' 
 
 I covered my head with my hands and waited until it was over. 
 
 After some time, I was lifted to my feet by an elderly woman with a large rifle slung over her shoulder. She wore the same red cloak that all those strange people wore, with silver hair spilling out of her hood. 
 
 I saw them all now, meandering about the area, finding our stragglers or sitting and chatting. They seemed easy and practiced. 
 
 `` You're their leader,'' the old woman said. 
 
 `` I do n't think so. I just sort of froze here, and everyone else ran like smart people.'' 
 
 `` It was n't a question,'' she said. There was gentleness to this woman, but hardness too. 
 
 `` What happened?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Sometimes the big bad wolf eats the little girl lost in the woods. Sometimes the little girl is n't lost. Sometimes she has a bazooka and she wants a new wolf skin rug.'' 
 
 `` You hunt them?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Sure enough. It's helpful if little bunnies like yourself lead them right to us.'' 
 
 `` Well I'm in your debt. We all are. Is there anything we can do for you?'' 
 
 `` I'm not the one to ask,'' she said. 
 
 `` You're not the leader?'' 
 
 `` Oh heavens no,'' she said, laughing. `` My granddaughter is. The one over there with the ax.'' 
 
 I followed the old woman's outstretched finger to the one-armed woman with the rocket launcher. Except she did n't have a rocket launcher now. She had a great, big ax, and she was hacking away at the grey wolf's neck. 
 
 As I watched her, I realized what scared me about this girl. It was n't her scars, or her jagged hair or her hateful eyes. It was her teeth. They were pointed and sharp. And as she hacked at the dead wolf, slowly separating the gargantuan, mutilated head from the body, she let out a shriek of joy. It sounded like a wolf's howl.
