It is now necessary to explain that, when transformed into butterflies, the corpse bride was prevented from entering paradise. She had flown quite near it and been allowed one brief glimpse of that enchanting land, yet for reasons which were unknown to her she had been sent back. Naturally, she was more than a little disappointed—yet one individual welcomed her return with somewhat selfish glee.

Maggot was fond of the corpse bride. She provided him with more than the deepest of friendships, though we will not speak further of that, and he was felt quite indebted to her. Because of this, he had tried to give up his nagging ways once and for all, thus giving Emily some privacy. It was to no avail, and she—being somewhat ill-tempered after her unexpected return—denied him her company. Still, he followed her about wistfully, hoping that perhaps she would catch sight of him and change her mind.

Maggot was a witness to Victoria's tragic death, and foul thoughts which should not have entered his mind at all captivated him for the longest time. What he saw lying dead in Victor's arms was not a poor, lifeless girl but a fresh home.

"Awfully small, isn't she?" he said, voicing his considerations aloud.

Emily, catching sight of him, gave a terrible snort of revulsion. "Out of here, Maggot," she hissed.

"Hmph," Maggot returned, "shall I make sure she's really dead or..."

"You can shut up!" Emily spat, looking hurriedly at Victor and hoping that he had not overhead them, though she had no reason to fear—Victor was utterly lost to the world. Sighing, she turned away and spoke to no one in particular. "I think I'll have a look around the house—perhaps her parents are in. I'm sure they'd love to see me."

Victor raised his head at her bitter statement but did not speak. The expression on his face hinted that his reason was steadily returning to him; glancing down at Victoria, he gently raised one of her limp hands until it rested over his heart, cold and unmoving. He hid his face from view, a despairing sob escaping him as he did so.

Emily's lips parted and she seemed about to move towards him, yet she thought better of it and whispered with a sigh, "I'm so sorry, Victor."

Maggot watched her as she left the room quietly. No doubt she intended to leave Victor in solitary mourning, but he had other plans; easing his way down the arm of the chair he had formerly reclined upon, he dropped to the floor and then squirmed about with some difficulty until he had seated himself on Victor's shoulder.

"Hey," he said, "are you absolutely certain she's dead? I mean, that is such a large statement..."

Normally Victor would never have had the power to silence such a talkative creature, and he had not even meant to, really, yet when his pain-filled eyes rested on Maggot the little worm's mouth clamped shut with astonishing haste.

"I—I'd like it if you would look at her yourself," Victor said softly. "Perhaps she...isn't."

Maggot truly detested raising Victor's hopes, but he had no choice now. "Well," he said sulkily, "I think we'd better check for a heartbeat, then. Hold out her hand; yeah, just stretch out your arm like that and hold her hand there. Don't hold it at the wrist! That's better. Let me see..." he wriggled along Victor's thin arm until he had reached Victoria's hand. "Hmm."

Victor watched him anxiously. "Well?" he whispered.

Maggot swallowed. "I don't hear anything that sounds like a heart," he said, cocking his head to one side. "I'm afraid—I'm afraid—"

"Never mind."

Maggot looked hard at Victor, a little taken aback by the tone which he now used. Noting the worm's astonishment, Victor smiled for the first time since Victoria's demise and explained quietly,

"I have made a decision, sir. Henceforth I shall not believe that Victoria is dead, for it is clear to me that she most certainly is not."

"What?" Maggot exclaimed. "But look at her! She is without life, Victor! Believe me—I should know."

Victor threw his head back, his eyes shining with determination. "I won't believe it," he said. Rising from the floor, he attempted lifting Victoria and carrying her to her bed, but soon this was given up and he stood back, breathing hard.

"If I were human," Maggot said, "I'd help you. Tell me, mister, are you insane or something? She's dead. I hate to have to be the one to convince you of it, but it's true!"

Victor sank to the floor again and Maggot looked away, fearing that his words had finally made an impression on him. When he finally ventured a peek at Victor, he was astonished to find him anything but grieved. The deranged young man had commenced gazing upon Victoria's pale face, his lips moving as if he spoke—but Maggot could hear nothing.

"Victor," Maggot sighed.

"Look," Victor said, facing him, "how can a mere scratch have killed her? Poison? I've thought of that, yet my heart won't believe it. She will wake, I know she will. You know she will."

"No, I don't," Maggot said, "but if you say so..."

It was at that moment that Emily dashed into the room, her eyes wide with shock. "Victor—Maggot—we have to leave! The house...someone's set it on fire!"