The Lumberjack – A Dark and Twisted Retelling of Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time, deep within an ancient forest wrapped in fog and mystery, there lived a lonely lumberjack. Day after day, he spent his life felling trees, his axe echoing through the woodland like a sad song. The forest seemed endless — for each tree he cut, another would sprout in its place by morning. Though his hands were strong and his back sturdy, the lumberjack’s heart grew tired. He longed for more — for love, for purpose, for an adventure that might lift him from the green, tangled prison he called home.

Yet, something deeper held him back. An unseen force lingered in the forest, heavy like a shadow that whispered doubts into his ear. It was a magic both nurturing and ominous, and the lumberjack felt it bind him to the woods as surely as roots bound a tree to the earth.

One day, as the sun dripped golden light through the canopy, a sound unlike any before reached his ears — the faint voice of a girl, crying for help. His heart pounding, the lumberjack grabbed his axe and made his way toward the cries, pushing through bramble and bush. But when he arrived, what he saw was not a scene of peril, but of laughter.

There stood a girl and a handsome boy. The boy was playfully pretending to “eat” the girl, eliciting giggles and squeals. The lumberjack stood frozen, the axe heavy in his hands. When the couple saw him watching, their laughter ceased, and they stared in awkward silence. Flustered, the lumberjack apologized and hurried away.

But his heart was heavier now, for he recognized the girl — the same girl who passed by him each day on her way to visit her grandmother. The girl he had fallen deeply in love with from afar. Once, he had dared to speak to her, offering her a simple wooden figurine he’d carved with care. She had smiled, but when he shyly asked for a kiss in return, she grew frightened and ran.

Now she walked with another: Charles Wolfe, a charming, well-bred boy from a prosperous family. Charles was everything the lumberjack was not — handsome, confident, and wealthy. The sight of them together sparked jealousy in the lumberjack’s soul. He convinced himself that Charles was a predator, someone who would devour the girl’s heart and leave her hollow. Worse still, Charles had gifted her a luxurious red cloak, its fabric rich and silky, its hood deep and alluring. She adored it, wearing it on every visit to her grandmother’s cottage.

Bitter and stung, the lumberjack muttered under his breath, “Little Red Riding Hood… and her precious wolf.”

A Dark Path

Consumed by envy, the lumberjack decided to intercept them at the grandmother’s cottage. His mind clouded with dark thoughts, his axe glinted in the sun. As he journeyed, dusk approached, and amid the swirling autumn leaves, he encountered a peculiar sight — a hare, standing in the path, unafraid.

“Turn back,” the hare warned in a grave voice. “Jealousy is poison. Go no further, or be consumed by your own bitterness.”

But the lumberjack, his heart hardened, sneered and ignored the warning. In his rage, he killed the hare, cooked it, and ate it, believing it a sign of his defiance. Replenished but spiritually darker, he pressed on.

He reached the quaint cottage as night approached. An open window offered a way in, and the lumberjack crawled through. The air inside was sweet with the smell of baked apples, cinnamon, and gingerbread — scents of warmth and home. For a brief moment, the lumberjack hesitated, memories of his childhood flickering. But then the grandmother appeared, gasping at the sight of the intruder.

She fought bravely, striking him with anything she could grab. The lumberjack, though strong, was stunned by her ferocity and her sharp blows. In the scuffle, she struck his mouth, knocking out a tooth. Enraged, he locked her in the pantry, wiping blood from his lips, and waited for the girl and her wolfish companion to arrive.

The Wolves’ Warning

When Little Red Riding Hood and Charles Wolfe reached the cottage, their joy faded at the sight of the open door.

“Grandmother?” the girl called cautiously. “Is everything alright?”

But it was the lumberjack who stepped from the shadows, his presence dark and imposing.

“You didn’t expect me, did you?” he growled.

The girl demanded to know where her grandmother was, but the lumberjack waved the question away, his focus fixed on Charles.

“You replaced me with this… this wolf,” he spat. “You adored my gift once, yet ran from me. Now you wear his cloak and give him your smiles.”

She looked at him sadly.

“I ran because you frightened me. There was kindness in you once… but your jealousy has twisted it.”

The lumberjack’s bloodied mouth twitched. The girl gasped.

“Your teeth — what happened?”

He touched his lip, realizing his broken tooth was a visible mark of his weakness — a humiliation that fueled his anger further.

“Don’t worry about my teeth,” he snarled, lifting his axe. “Worry for your precious wolf. I’ll cut him down.”

But what the lumberjack didn’t know was that the grandmother, trapped but not powerless, had summoned the forest’s defenders — a pack of real wolves, loyal to her and the magic that protected the woods. The wolves arrived silently, their eyes glowing in the dark.

As the lumberjack raised his axe to strike, the wolves pounced. He fell, struggling beneath their weight, his last sight the glint of their sharp, merciless teeth. Charles shielded the girl, covering her eyes from the horror.

A Scarred Ending

The lumberjack survived, but barely. His body was scarred, his face disfigured, his pride shattered. Worse still was the burden in his heart — a deep, crushing guilt that never left him. He returned to his lonely cabin in the woods, a broken man haunted by his actions, his love forever lost.

Little Red Riding Hood and Charles Wolfe married years later, living happily yet always carrying the memory of that dark night. The girl often pondered the lumberjack’s fate, pitying the man he could have been had he resisted envy. The red cloak, though still beautiful, was a constant reminder of how easily love could turn into possessiveness and how jealousy could twist even the gentlest souls.

Every time she glimpsed red in the forest, she remembered the lumberjack. She would always be, in some haunted corner of her mind, his Little Red Riding Hood.

✅ Moral of the Story

Jealousy is a consuming fire — once it takes hold, it can destroy even the purest of hearts. Kindness and love must be given freely, not demanded or taken by force.