Into the Woods

What was it with these woods? Anytime I venture more than five foot into them, I get lost. I've hiked in forests and reserves and mountains across the globe. I'm an expert in tracking, forestry and navigation. I'm trained not to get lost. Yet, every time I hike in these woods, I end up completely bamboozled. No point even trying my phone, there is no cell activity anywhere in here. It mysteriously cuts off the moment you step passed the first tree. 
I'm not the only one to be defeated by these woods, many a person has been lost in it's acres. Everyone comes out thought, strangely eventually. All with stories that end the same: fell asleep deep in the forest and woke up in one of the clearing on the outskirts. I was sceptical - until it happened to me. 

I swear the layout of this damn place changes. I need to find shelter for the night. The sun's going down, and the canopy of leaves above were making it dark on the ground prematurely. 

Oof. Damn tree root. Back on my feet, dusting myself off, and knowing my leg would now have a lovely new bruise, I soldiered on. 

Eventually, I came to a cottage. No sound of bears, so I wouldn't have a repeat of last time and the house was made of bricks, not sweets, so I was safe from the hag of attempt two. 

The door was ajar and a distinct metallic smell came from inside. This did not seem good. But it was shelter, and in these woods, an abandoned cottage, it was a gift horse. 

The scene that I walked into was one of a massacre. Blood was splattered on the walls, floor and furniture. The smell of blood tried to over-power my olfactory sense but was failing against the pungent odour of wet dog. 

Amongst the blood there was a torn nightdress, clearly belonging to someone advanced in age - judging by the style and pattern. It was covered in what looked like fur. My eyes were drawn to the claw marks on the walls, but mostly on the bed frame. Too big for a dog. Wolf. It had to be wolf. 

I stepped forward and stood on something that seemed to be a blanket. Warmth. Picking it up, I could see it was a child's bright red cape.