The little sheep boy, now a little ghoul, scurried ahead of Red and Bo Peep, screaming in excitedly. Ahead, they could see the bonfire that was erected each Hallow's Eve for the festival. To the side, they could see tables filled with glorious food: pancakes, cakes, and pastries from King Boggen; mincemeat and plum pies from Jack Horner; and, of course, tea and cider laid out gracefully by Polly the brewer's daughter. Also, there were barrels full of water and apples for the children to play bob-for-the-apple with.

Instantly, the little sheep boy scurried off towards the barrels, leaving Red and Bo Peep to ogle at the food. They hadn't eaten lunch, and that food was looking especially tasty…


Night fell quickly, and the bonfire lit up the sky like a flickering torch of a giant. The little children danced to the fiddles and hurdy-gurdies as the adults clapped along.

Blue, dressed as a skeleton, shivered in the cool night air as he munched at an apple, "Goshdarnit, Red! Come on! You have to stay! It's only ten o'clock or something!"

"It's dark, cold, and too loud! And my tummy hurts…" moaned Red. She had eaten way too much icing from the cakes. "And… I don't want to wait or else it'll be midnight –and you know how dangerous that time is- and I won't be able to get home!"

"But… You didn't hear about the rape?"

"Huh? What rape?"

"They didn't say who, but they said a girl got raped and-"

Bo Peep snorted, shoveling a glazed plum from her pie into her mouth. Through her mouthful, "Must be Rapunzel or Snow White or someone like that. Haven't seen them… and you know that they'd be flitting around flirting."

"… Yeah…" said Blue, blinking with realization before growing frustrated, "And that's why you have to stay, Red! You don't wanna get raped, do you?"

"That's just a story." Sniffed Red, crossing her arms.

"A story? Are you willing to risk your…" Blue trailed off as a shadow fell across his shoulders. Glancing slowly back, he smiled hesitantly at Pinocchio, "Hello, Mr. Detective…"

"Hello, Langdon. Couldn't help but overhear your conversation." Pinocchio leaned forward, resting a hand on Blue's stiff shoulder.

"Oh… I was just… trying to keep Red from going home…" said Langdon, wilting.

"I would agree with your little friend, Marie. Wait till someone can walk home with you."

"… Why?" complained Red.

"We wouldn't want you to get hurt." Said Pinocchio seriously. The fact that his nose didn't twitch showed he was telling the truth.

"Was there really a rape?"

Without a word, Pinocchio turned, strutted back towards the dancers.

Blue glowered after the wooden man, "Could be a little less stiff, couldn't he? I mean, he's stiff as a log right now. Bet someone's going to try to push him into the bonfire."

"Blue!" squeaked Red and Bo Peep together, horrified.

"What? Just saying…" said Blue sullenly.


Red succeeded in sneaking away from the festival and hurried down the dark street, hastily wiping away the paint with the hat as she glanced about in slight terror. The lamp lighter hadn't gone around to light the oil lamps, instead taking his family to the festival. As a result, the street glowered in its darkness, threatening and ominous. The ground slunk with mist once more.

Red hurried down the avenue, glancing worriedly from right to left. She hated the dark! It just reminded her of the… No! She would not think about it!

Suddenly, she saw the stranger from the night before, standing on his bench, leaning against the lamp pole as he slowly held a match into the glass box. When it lit, he drew back, blew the match out, and slowly snuggled down onto the bench.

Red hurried to the pole, causing the stranger to glance up in weary surprise, "Oh… Hello again. There seems to be no one out tonight, doesn't it? Even the lamp-lighter forgot his rounds..." He sighed loudly, glancing up at lantern, undoubtedly looking for the moth.

"They're all at the festival… Thank the Lord! Some light!" Red glowed with relieved pleasure as she basked in the flickering light of the lamp.

"Yes… I just lit it because I knew someone would be drawn to it… Now… Where's my moth?" He leaned back, gazed up into the air, and added, "I want to see if it's gotten any smarter from the last time it burnt."

"I thought you-"

"I was lying. I still think it's the same moth." The stranger itched at his stomach before glancing at Red and asking softly, "Do they have food at the festival?"

"Yes."

"Was it good?" he asked, a note of jealous envy consuming his voice.

"Yes. Why don't you go?"

"… I wouldn't be welcome… And, besides, I don't have a costume." The stranger sighed, glanced at her again, and then muttered grudgingly, "I like your costume."

"Huh?" Red glanced down at herself. She had taken everything off, and it was all now packed safely away in her little sac-à-main. "This?"

"Yes… What are you supposed to be? Is there supposed to be a little devil hat or something?" The stranger motioned to his hood.

"No! This is what I wear every day!"

The stranger stiffened, staring at her, and then asked slowly, "… Every day? Since when? Is it a new fashion style or something?"

"Since I was a little, little girl!"

The stranger shuddered as he questioned softly, "… Red… Riding Hood?"

"Yes… How did you know my nickname?"

Suddenly, strong hands were around her neck. As the first startled choke issued from her lips, the stranger snarled, "You little wench! You bliddy little wretch!"

Red's fingers scrabbled at the fingers, to no avail. As fuzzy black spots came onto her vision, she saw the white moth, the one the stranger was so obsessed with, and watched it as it wormed up to the flame to only burst into flames.

The last thought through her mind was a simple, "…He's right… It's the same moth."