"The Fireplace" by Deborah Cullins Smith

The old man crouched low and struck a flint against the rough stones of the ancient fireplace. The wind howled down the valley, rattling his cabin's weathered logs.  A small flame flashed and caught the twigs. He smiled and sat back on his haunches, feeling the warmth soaking into his hands and feet. Why was aging so hard on the extremities first?

A tentative knock on his door made him frown. No one ventured this far into the woods at night. Daytime sometimes coaxed a few children from the village to romp in the fields of sunflowers, but never did visitors venture out after dark.

A hooded figure stood outlined against the dusk. The old man blinked in surprise. Though a hood covered her face, the form was clearly that of a woman.

"Won't you come in?" he stammered.

"Thank you," she sighed in relief. "I've traveled far, and night fell so quickly…   I'm afraid I'm lost."

"You really shouldn't be out after dark." His frown deepened. "It isn't safe for a lady."

The woman pulled back her hood, revealing winsome features and wavy dark hair. Her enormous blue eyes took on a luminescence in the soft light. She trembled as she held out her hands toward the warmth.

The old man watched her covertly as he pulled out two wooden mugs and filled them with pungent ale.

"Oh, please…" she protested, "… I don't want to be a bother. If I could just warm myself by your fire…"

"On the contrary," the old man replied, smiling. "I would be a poor host indeed if I didn't share my provisions with so lovely a lady."

She blushed, and turned away demurely, but as he approached, he caught a cunning side-long look.  Her eyes glowed with an inner light that had nothing to do with the fire. When she stood, she seemed to tower over the stooped old man.

"I do desire refreshment," she whispered. "But not from your 'provisions'."  Her smile widened, parting ruby lips to reveal two perfect fangs.

The old man backed away from her, and placed the mugs on the table, his eyes watching her every move. Then his own smile widened --- and his nose lengthened, his legs extended! As his hair grew longer he threw his head back and howled.

"Who's the victim now, my pretty little wench?"

Her screams filled the night as the old wolf pounced.