Naughty

Journal Entry

Things feel wrong for a reason.

“Come on!” said Smudge, suddenly full of energy as he hurried toward the house. Biscuit trotted beside him, nose twitching. Every few steps, Biscuit glanced back at the cold and darkness behind them. A lovely warm house was better than THAT. What could possibly go wrong?

Up close, the house looked even nicer. The windows glowed in two neat squares, and the roof sloped at such a satisfyingly precise angle that Smudge couldn’t help noticing it. Everything looked cosy, welcoming… and oddly arranged, like a picture someone had drawn very carefully.

Nothing seemed unusual at first glance, except for the curious strings and little ropes hung around the place—neat loops, tidy knots, braids that looked professional. Smudge didn’t quite know why, but they made the house feel… neat.

“Here goes nothing,” said Smudge as he knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again, louder this time.

Still nothing. No one was home.

As they stood there, the wind howled through the trees. Biscuit whimpered softly, shifting from paw to paw. Smudge’s stomach made an unhelpful grumbling noise.

The rain continued. The wind continued. Their enthusiasm for standing outside did not.

Smudge considered their options carefully, all of which involved being cold except one.

Biscuit’s expression spoke clearly: It looks warm, seems magical, and that is enough information for now.

With a deep, hopeful breath, Smudge tried the handle.

Crrrrreeeeak…

The door eased open all by itself, slowly and smoothly, as if it had been expecting them.

Smudge and Biscuit exchanged a look. It was a very specific look. A look that said: This might be a terrible idea.

But also: We’re freezing, hungry, and out of sandwiches, so…

Smudge felt a flutter of doubt in his chest, but the warm air drifting out of the doorway wrapped around him like a soft blanket. And it smelled—just faintly—like something sweet.

They knew they shouldn’t. They knew they really shouldn’t… but they did.