Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

The Oculus

As they approached the Oculus, Wheeler did his best to ignore the prickle of nerves in his gut.

Night had fallen over Gortsville, the narrow cobblestone streets dimly illuminated by the lanterns that lined it. The sound of music could be heard, pulsing faintly from within the mysterious building.

A large man stood beside the Oculus's door, his face cast in a scowl as he stared off blankly into the night.

"Alright," Priscilla whispered. "Here we go. The moment of truth."

Anxiously the trio made their way towards the entrance. Wheeler did his best to duck behind Mulock and Priscilla, hoping to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

The man's eyes narrowed as they approached.

"Excuse me, sir," Priscilla said, fluttering her eyelashes as she attempted the most sultry voice possible. "We're new to Gortsville and heard this is the most fabulous place in the whole town. Won't you be a dear and let us in?"

The man shook his head. "Sorry, little girl. The Oculus is invite only."

"Come on," Priscilla urged. "Surely you can make an exception for us."

"I'm on strict orders--" The words died in the man's throat as Mulock suddenly brushed past Priscilla, his eyes locked intently on the man.

Mulock had decidedly been instructed not to speak, seeing as his deep voice would be an instant give away. Luckily, the demon needed no words.

Mulock's gaze slowly dragged down the line of the man's chest before flickering up once more. The action was slow and deliberate despite the fact that the look in his eyes feigned innocence. He absently brought a finger to his lips, flashing the man a small smile. It seemed mindless enough, but it was impossible to pry one's gaze away as he gently ran his thumb across his lower lip, parting them slightly. The act was subtle yet seductive, an invitation to something just barely out of reach.

Wheeler swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat rising from his skin and the frantic pounding of his heart. He didn't seem to be the only one experiencing such a reaction. The man was completely entranced.

Mulock took a step forward, his fingers lightly brushing up the length of the man's arm as he did. He tilted his head towards the door, silently asking for permission to enter. As he did, he offered the man another soft smile, starkly contrasting those eyes of his that threatened to burn you alive if you came too close

But wasn't that what made you want him all the more desperately?

Wheeler immediately banished the subconscious thought from his mind.

The man let out a low breath, finally nodding his head. "Alright, you can go in."

"Thank you so much, sir," Priscilla said quickly.

Following this, all three rushed to get inside before he could grow suspicious. As Mulock attempted to brush past the man, he leaned closer, whispering something in the demon's ear. Mulock's expression didn't change, simply giving the man a wry smile before finally slipping past him.

And at last, they entered the club.

It was a large room, the air thick with smoke and sweat. The club was bathed in a pale red light, the space so dark that the figures scattered about appeared almost like shadows. A bar rested at one end of the club, a small circular stage at the other. On it stood a woman in a red silken gown which reflected the light as she swayed, singing a song in a low voice.

Once inside, Mulock and Priscilla exchanged a high five.

"Well," Priscilla said with a grin, "once again, I find myself utterly floored that the crabbiest asshole on the planet is a world class seductor."

"Thank you," Mulock replied, his deep monotone voice a striking contrast to his feminine appearance. "I try."

"What did that guy say to you?" Wheeler questioned, hoping Mulock wouldn't notice how worried he was.

The demon let out a little huff, crossing his arms. "Something extremely lewd regarding the things he'd like to do to my insides."

Wheeler flinched at the words, a cold anger clawing at his gut that someone would ever talk to Mulock that way.

"Well, Mulock," Priscilla said with a sigh. "Welcome to the everyday life of being a female."

"It's absolutely awful," the demon replied dryly.

"Isn't it?" Priscilla gave him a little nudge. "Just wait till you find out about periods."

Their gazes drifted around the crowded club. Most of the Oculus's patrons appeared huddled in small groups, talking in low voices.

"I'll take the bar," Mulock said. "Since I can't talk verbally it'll be the easiest place to eavesdrop."

"Then I'll hang around the stage," Priscilla said a little too quickly.

The demon's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure that location choice has absolutely nothing to do with the attractive woman performing there."

Priscilla flushed. "I just, uh...I like music..."

"Sure you do."

"Okay, um...well then I suppose I'll just make some rounds around the club itself," Wheeler said.

The three exchanged a small nod in agreement before splitting off, each moving to a different corner of the Oculus.

Wheeler spent the next hour walking around slowly, all while listening in on as many conversations as possible. As Lenox had said before, the club was mostly filled with older men, though there were a few women scattered about. The discussions he managed to pick up on all seemed fairly casual, no one mentioning anything sounding remotely close to an evil plot. Wheeler could only hope that Priscilla and Mulock were having better luck.

His gaze flickered to Mulock. The demon was seated at the end of the bar, his gaze downcast as he nursed a drink, clearly trying to blend in with the darkness of the room.

Wheeler was about to turn away and continue his rounds, when he suddenly noticed someone approaching the demon.

The man was tall and well built, making no sound as he silently stalked towards Mulock. His sunken icy eyes bore into him like a wolf watching a rabbit. A flare of panic rose up in Wheeler's chest at the sight, some primal instinct telling him that this man was dangerous.

The man slipped out from the shadows, sliding into the seat beside Mulock. With the club's red glow finally illuminating him, Wheeler could make out something on the side of his neck.

Resting there in golden ink was the tattoo of an eye.