Yes, yes I know that this is now completely OOC but remember - this fic is based on the FILM. How can these characters stay in character if the film stopped before it had finished properly? From my point of view this is very annoying.

So that is why I have made a huge leap and have basically written what I think should have happened after the film ended. Show me the fanfic rules where it says I can't do this? All credit goes to Mr Shan for his fab idea.

DC

"Hey Evra," a voice piped up from behind him, "you seen Loaf Head around?" Evra's snake uncoiled itself from around the boy's shoulders and slithered over to the buck toothed woman. She patted it's head affectionally and shaded her eyes against the sun. Fortunately Evra's shadow fell across her he walked over.

"Nope, sorry Gertha. Not recently." Evra wiped the perspiration that had gathered on his forehead as a result of the afternoon's work with the back of his hand. He had been busy changing the straw and sawdust in the wolf man's cage as well as changing the trough. The wolf man sat in there now, sniffing his new bedding. The woman placed both hands on her hips and sighed.

"He was supposed to meet me an hour ago! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Oh I'm sure he'll turn up. You know what he's like, he probably got into a scrap and is off licking his wounds." Behind him, the wolf man growled in agreement. Everyone knew the dwarf's hotheadedness often landed him in trouble. Gertha, however, didn't seem satisfied with Evra's educated guess.

"No one else has seen him around in a while either," she complained. The wolf man shrugged.

"Well, if you do see him..." said Gertha in a small voice. Evra nodded, turned back to his bags of sawdust and picked up his broom which had been lounging against the cage getting it's breath back. He was surprised to find a small, bedraggled creature holding onto the end of it. He gave an involuntary cry of fright and disgust and gave the stick an experimental shake but the little person hung on and shot him a wounded look. It banged on the broom handle to attract enough attention before pointing a choppy finger at the distance. The wolf man growled.

"What is it?" shrieked Gertha. The little person was only slightly higher than Evra's knee. Green eyes watched Evra carefully.

"It's only Harkat," sad Evra, his voice shaking slightly and his heart beat returning to normal, "I think...the little people all look the same anyway." Harkat gave the snake boy a reproachful stare, still pointing into the distance.

"Well? What do you want?" asked Evra. He gave the broom another shake. Deciding he had had enough, Harkat snatched the besom out of the boy's surprised hands and headed off through the tents with bits of twigs falling behind him. Looking over his disheveled shoulder, he saw Evra following him at a smart pace and so the little person hitched up his grey robe and hurried on through the throng.

Before long, Evra had caught up with the odd looking creature. It hadn't been hard. With legs twice as long, he could go twice as fast, something Harkat hadn't thought off. Squealing and grunting, the little person extended and raised his gnarled fists as he was hoisted into the air by the scruff of his neck. Evra held him inches away from his face.

"Give it back," he snapped. The answer was a sharp punch on the nose from a decaying fist. Harkat looked up at Evra from the ground after he had been dropped with a triumphant grin. He waited for the boy to recover before picking up the broom again, goading him with a whack on the knees and setting off. Evra let out a roar of frustration before resuming the chase. The strange little man dodged in and out of the legs, and in some cases hands, of the Cirque's inhabitants as they went about their daily chores. The chase went unnoticed by most, the rest simply watched with amusement. Everyone knew the little people were notorious tricksters even if they weren't quite sure where they came from. They looked like three foot high chubby zombies.

"Watch it!"

"Look out!"

A path of grumbles and shouts followed the two as they wound around the camp site. Evra had great difficulty in keeping the creature in his sights as it weaved and dodged so often. Finally he lost sight of it altogether. Ignoring the moans and complaints surrounding him, he straightened up, for he had been running bent double, and peered over the many heads for one grey hooded one. A long whistle from behind him made him spin around and he locked eyes with Harkat Mulds. He was leaning nonchalantly against Evra's tent, an innocent expression playing on his monstrous features. Furious, Evra stalked over to him and snatched the broom out of the little person's unresisting hands.

"What're you playing at?" he snapped. Harkat pointed into the boy's tent and stamped a tiny, bare foot. Curious, Evra peered into the gloom. There was nothing there.

"What? There's nothing there!" Harkat Mulds raised his eyes to the heavens and wrung his tiny scarred hands as if crying "exactly!" Now suspicious, Evra swept past the creature and went into his tent. He circled it a few times noticing nothing out of place. His bed was as unkempt as usual whilst Darren's was fully made. Nothing different there. He bent double to face Harkat.

"Nothing," he shrugged. Now thoroughly peeved, Harkat placed both hands on the boy's knees and pushed him firmly out the way. He inspected the tent himself and after a moment, uttered a small cry of satisfaction. Evra turned to see the creature brandishing a length of rope. The dragon boy's brow furrowed as he tried to recall where it had come from. Eventually he reached the conclusion that it hadn't been there earlier. He took it and examined it.

"Not mine. Maybe Darren's?" he said, turning it in his hands. Suddenly it was wrenched from his grip and Harkat tied it quickly into a noose and looped it around his own neck.

"Don't!" cried Evra, swooping down to take it off but the little person just shook his head impatiently and pointed to Darren's empty bed.

"I wish you could just talk!" groaned Evra. Harkat half smiled and gestured to his sewn lips, shrugging. Evra turned the rope over and over in his hands and stared at the empty bed. It had been neatly made that morning with the pajamas laid out as usual on the pillow. Darren was meticulously tidy. Harkat interrupted the boy's gathering thoughts with a sad rattle. Evra glanced up to see him holding a broken maraca in his hands. The beans had spilt and lay in groups on the floor.

"Did you do that?" cried Evra, rescuing the broken instrument from the creature's hands. Harkat pointed to the bed and then to the door several times, jumping up and down.

"Look, I don't understand! Is it Darren? Did he break it?" Harkat nodded his head vigorously and then shook it, "I'll go and get Mr Tall or Mr Crepsley. They always seem to know what you lot are trying to say," added Evra. He pocketed some of the beans and followed the little person out the door. As he stepped into the bright sunshine, Evra looked down as a yell of shock erupted somewhere near his feet. Harkat had tackled Loaf Head to the floor, catching him off guard and was now pummeling him with his fists.

There was a roar of triumph from the chamber up ahead and the dark, damp corridor was unnaturally empty. Something was going on. Steve clicked his teeth in frustration. It seemed to him that recently more and more things appeared to be taking place without his consent. Where was the old respect? He was the Vampaneze Lord! When he had first arrived, the Vampaneze and Mr Tiny had made a big show of accepting him as the leader and listening to his views. Nothing had happened without his permission but now he hardly knew what was happening. He supposed he had lost sight of the Vampaneze's aims whilst rescuing Rose from that damned freak-show. Light spilled out into the corridor from the cracks in the wooden door and Steve hesitated in front of it, his hand hovering above the door knob. Why shouldn't he go in? He practically owned the place! Yet something inside him, a small voice which rose from the pit of his stomach, urged him to listen in from the secret passage. Steve fought the desire to throw open the intimidating doors and squeezed himself into a crack in the wall next to it instead. The cranny was dusty and tight but allowed just enough space for a body to crawl through. As he moved along it, the murmurs next door became clearer and formed odd words which became strings of sentences. Steve could hear Mr Tiny's soft tones full of authority. The man's gentle voice could make itself heard through an explosion so the concrete and earth between the speaker and Steve presented no problems.

"Yes, yes. You may see him later. I just want to be sure I've understood you correctly. No one saw you leave?"

"No one at all, sir. We was very careful. Had a getaway driver waiting an' everything."

"I see. Well, my congratulations, sir. You have succeeded."

"We've held up our end of the bargain. I wanna see Ursus!" said a gruff voice. There was a murmur of suspicious agreement. It was silenced quickly. Driven by curiosity, Steve managed to find a comfortable position and fixed a squinted eye to a gap in the decaying concrete. The crack allowed him partial vision into the next room. The sight was horrific. Mr Tiny was surrounded by five or six disfigured men and women. There was an abnormally tall, spindly woman with an elongated neck beside a short man in the shape of a vase. The freak was hopping from foot to foot with growing impatience.

"Why is it so bright in here?" moaned one of the entourage, "We hate the light. You know that Mr Tiny."

"I do, unfortunately light is necessary to see the boy clearly by. I needed to know you had brought me the correct boy."

"We have, we have," snapped a man with an elongated skull. His black eyes were pressed deep into his face and he had pointed teeth.

"Where is Ursus?" said another.

"Show me the vampire again," said Mr Tiny calmly ignoring the freak's request. A bundle was shoved forward. It was a boy bound in rope with a black sack over his head. His jeans were muddy and ripped in places and his white shirt had several buttons missing. Mr Tiny removed it and smiled. Steve's mouth opened in surprise. Darren glared around the circle. He had been gagged but his accusing eyes spoke volumes. The boy had clearly been kidnapped.

"Thank you gentlemen. Now Darren has joined us, we can bring the battle forward." Steve narrowed his eyes in confusion. The prophecy had clearly said the battle between the two lords had to take place under the Beaver moon and it wasn't even the Hunter's moon yet!

"Yeah, yeah, forget the bloody battle. Where's Ursus?" repeated a malformed freak. He clenched a bony fist but Mr Tiny just sighed.

"Patience, friends," he smiled, chins wobbling. Steve heard the creak of floorboards and the patter of dulled footsteps. Unfortunately the freaks did not.

There was a series of strangled cries and the snap of frail bones as the hidden Vampaneze descended on the defenseless group. Steve closed his eyes but the sounds of slaughter penetrated his hiding place and invaded his ears. Cries and screams and the splatter of blood. When it had quietened, Steve risked a peek. Two Vampaneze were leading a panic-stricken Darren away whilst the rest finished their meal. Mr Tiny dabbed at a spot of blood on his collar with a patterned handkerchief. Muttering to himself, he regarded the scene with disdain.

"Make sure you clear this lot up, will you?" he sniffed, pocketing the stained piece of material. A sense of terrifying admiration overcame Steve. Mr Tiny had calculated his every move. In his hiding place, Steve leant away from the hole. So it looked as though some of the freaks had betrayed Darren and had handed him over. He wondered what Mr Tiny had promised them in return. Whatever it was, they hadn't got it. It looked as though Mr Tiny had a habit of making false promises in order to get what he wanted. But what was it he wanted?