Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Perfect Peter Packwood

"Okay," Priscilla whispered to the toad currently resting in her cupped hands. "This whole plan hinges on your performance, so you better not screw up, okay?"

Mister Pumpernickel let out a little croak.

"Good. Cause if you ruin this, I'm feeding you to Mulock."

The toad made a horrified sound following this statement.

"I'm just kidding, jeez. Learn to take a joke." Priscilla glanced around the corner now, cautiously watching the movements of the guards stationed outside the Royal Mage's quarters.

It had been nearly a year since they'd come to the palace, and in that time she'd yet to see Peter even once. Due to this fact, she'd tried countless times to enter the mage's quarters, desperate to see her brother. Despite her many efforts, no matter how much she begged and pleaded, the guards would never let her through. The fact that they were being such dicks about it was the exact reason Priscilla was about to resort to rather...unorthodox measures.

She crouched down now, gently placing Mister Pumpernickel on the cold stone floor. "Alright, show time. Knock 'em dead, Mister Pumpernickel."

The toad croaked enthusiastically.

"And I mean that figuratively. Don't actually kill the guards."

A slightly less enthusiastic croak.

"Alright, now go!"

The toad luckily did as he was told, taking off hopping towards the guards. As he did, Priscilla removed her wand, quickly whispering the spell she'd prepared.

The guards looked down as Mister Pumpernickel bounded towards them.

"Is that...the toad that had the four hour concert...?" one of them asked slowly.

"What other toads are there?" a second snapped.

"Millions. There's literally millions of other toads."

"Yeah, but none as regal looking as this fine lad," a third piped up. " It's got to be the same one."

"Regal?" the first guard gaped. "It's a toad. They all look the same--"

The other two cut him off with a gasp.

"How could you say something like that in front of him?!" the third guard whispered in disbelief.

"He can't understand me, he's a toad---"

He was interrupted again by a second gasp.

"That was so insensitive."

The third guard knelt down beside Mister Pumpernickel. "I am so sorry, sir," she apologized. "And might I say, I think you have a beautiful voice. That was the best concert I've ever attended."

"It was also the only concert you've ever attended," the first guard muttered, rolling his eyes.

"God, Theodric, why do you have to be such a dick?"

"Oh, fuck off. At least I'm not the one fangirling over a toad."

While the guards were distracted bickering amongst themselves, Priscilla pressed her back up against the wall, waiting as the spell she'd cast finally took hold. Slowly she watched the pattern of the stone wall begin to creep up her skin and clothes, changing like a chameleon's skin. It was a pretty standard camouflage spell, leaving only her mere outline visible. As long as Mister Pumpernickel could keep their attention on him, they hopefully wouldn't notice she was even there.

Carefully she scooched her way down the corridor, keeping her back pressed to the wall. As luck would seem to have it, the guards seemed fully absorbed by their toad discussion. Sowly but surely, she managed to inch past them, finally entering into the elusive area restricted for the Royal Mages alone.

Priscilla only allowed herself to relax when she turned off into the corridor containing the mage's personal chambers, fully out of view from the guards. She let out a low sigh of relief, finally stepping away from the wall. As the stoney pattern slowly faded from her skin, she glanced around, cautiously taking in her surroundings.

A long hallway stretched out before her, an eerie purple glow illuminating the space. Doors lined either side, names inscribed on large silver plates above them. Priscilla abruptly became aware of how heavy the air felt around her, like a weight pressing down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. There was a strange smoky scent in the air, as if someone was burning incense.

Despite the fact that this was where all the Royal Mages resided—the hallway was empty, the air dead silent, giving no sign that it was populated.

Priscilla swallowed hard, realizing how odd it was that she'd never seen a Royal Mage around the palace since coming here. She shook her head, banishing the thought. She was probably just being paranoid.

She scanned the silver plates as she made her way down the hall, and after what felt like nearly ten minutes of walking, her gaze finally caught on the name 'Packwood' etched above a door. She approached it, taking a deep breath before gently rapping against the dark, red-brown wood.

Priscilla was met with silence, and her heart sank at the realization that this was all for naught. Her shoulders sagged and she moved to turn back, when suddenly a sharp click sounded from behind her.

Priscilla spun around, eyes widening as she came face to face with her brother. Well, at least he looked like her brother. That's about where the similarities ended.

Peter had seemed different at the ball, but it was nothing compared to now. A smile seemed carved onto his face, so wide and unnatural that it sent a shiver down Priscilla's spine. He stared back at her, but his gaze was distant, like his mind had drifted somewhere far away.

"You shouldn't be here, sister." The voice was Peter's, but his intonation was all wrong. The words came flat and monotone despite the smile still plastered to his face.

"Peter," Priscilla breathed, "what...what happened to you?"

"Nothing happened. I couldn't be happier. Working for the Grand Emperor is the greatest gift anyone could hope for."

"I haven't seen you in months, have you been here this whole time?!?" Priscilla frantically asked.

"Of course. Why would I leave when it's perfect here?"

The words made Priscilla's stomach drop. "Peter, you hate being cooped up inside. Come with me. Let's get you some fresh air or something."

"No. I want to remain here, sister. I can't leave. Not while I'm so happy."

Priscilla reached out to grab his hand. "You can't possibly mean that--" she froze, eyes going wide in horror at the feeling of nothing but air beneath the baggy robes he wore. A jolt of terror shot through her, realizing that the robes obscured nearly his entire body, reaching past his hands and legs.

Before Peter had time to react, she lunged forward, moving to rip them off. She didn't get far, only managing to yank down a sleeve over one shoulder before Peter managed to throw her off, sending her stumbling backwards.

Peter immediately pulled his sleeve back up, but there could be no mistaking what Priscilla had already seen beneath.

The entirety of his left arm was missing.

Peter's eyes bore into her now, that awful smile still held perfectly in place. "I think you should leave now, sister." He took a step closer and Priscilla felt a twist of panic in her gut, every natural instinct screaming that she was in danger. "If you don't," Peter continued, "the consequences will be...quite regrettable."

And with that, he slammed the door in her face.