Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 59: Chapter 59

"Count Auberon stood there, his raven black hair fluttering around his handsome face. His shirt hung open, revealing a set of perfectly chiseled abs that glistened in the moonlight. His scent consumed her, his body smelling of leather and spice. Roberta moved to kiss him, but the count drew back, a distant look on his beautiful, tortured face. 'My love,' he whispered in a deep, gravelly voice. 'Alas, we can never be together. My path is one of darkness while yours is of the light.' His emerald orbs looked off broodingly into the distance. 'You deserve someone who can love you the way you need to be loved. You should marry Clyde, the werewolf king. He'll surely fill your days with joy.' Roberta's eyes filled with tears. 'But I love you! How could I give myself to another?' Count Auberon simply shook his gorgeous head. 'You must. For I can never give you the life you deserve.' With those words, he turned into a bat, disappearing into the pitch black sky."
Priscilla gently closed her copy of A Dangerous Thirst. "And that's the end of volume one."
"Thank God," Mulock muttered, his face pressed against the carriage window. "That had to be the most God awful book I've ever read."
The demon suddenly heard a small sniffle from the other side of the carriage.
"Wheeler, are you crying?" the demon snapped in disbelief.
The boy proceeded to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. "It's just...so sad. They love each other but they can't be together." He sniffled again. "And now he's a bat."
Mulock facepalmed. "I can't believe you're actually getting emotional over a book that unironically used the phrase 'his swollen mast rising to attention'."
"I think the writing is beautiful," Priscilla said, sighing wistfully.
"Well I think it's shit," Mulock countered. "The characters suck. The story arc is a mess. And the plot itself is stupid because--"
"Love is an illusion," Priscilla and Wheeler said in unison before he could even finish the phrase. "We know."
"We can start on book two if you want," Priscilla said with a smile.
"Priscilla," Mulock muttered through gritted teeth. "I will throw that book out the goddamn window if you so much as dare."
Priscilla shrugged. "If you insist. Though, might I remind you the other option for entertainment is a sing along with Mister Pumpernickel."
The toad croaked excitedly from Wheeler's shoulder at the proposition.
Mulock sunk into his seat, dragging his hands down the lines of his face. "This is a bloody nightmare."
"Hey," Wheeler exclaimed suddenly. "Look!"
He pointed to the window, and Mulock and Priscilla's attention immediately snapped to it. From outside they could see a large, rotting sign which read the word 'Gortsville' in faded green paint.
"Oh, thank God," Mulock muttered.
Slowly, the deep forest they'd been traveling through began to thin. And then at last, they got a glimpse of what was to be their new home for the next three months.
Before them lay the most dismal looking village Mulock had ever seen.
The houses all seemed far too narrow, leaning at unnatural angles - which was quite concerning considering there were residents inside. And speaking of residents...
The streets were completely empty as the carriage made its way down the uneven cobblestone road. From within their windows however, glimpses of the town's occupants could be seen. Their faces were hollow and pale, their stares unnervingly blank. One or two immediately yanked their ragged curtains shut as the carriage passed by.
Overlooking the village was a hill that seemed to twist into the clouded grey sky. Upon it rested a castle, or at least...the ghost of one. The structure (which had most likely been a beautiful building at one point) was now rotting, thick ivy climbing up its spires, the stones loose as if the castle could crumble at any moment.
"Well, this place seems pleasant," Mulock said dryly.
As if to answer him, an eerie howl of a wolf sounded from deep within the forest they'd just left behind.
They sat in silence as the carriage slowly began to make its way up the hill. Even Wheeler couldn't seem to find a positive thing to say, which further confirmed to Mulock just how awful this place truly was.
Finally, the carriage creaked to a halt in front of the castle's large rotting doors.
Wheeler was the first one out in classic Wheeler fashion.
As Priscilla exited the carriage, Mulock slipped back into his cat form beside her. "So," he said, keeping an eye on Wheeler who was already bounding towards the entrance, "which one of us is in charge of stopping him if he actually tries to adopt a rat?"
"You're the cat," Priscilla pointed out.
Mulock shot her a murderous glare.
"Ugh, fine," Priscilla said. "We can rock, paper, scissors for it."
Their conversation quickly came to a halt at the sight of the castle's doors slowly beginning to open. Despite the fact that they appeared incredibly heavy, they made absolutely no sound as they parted.
Standing there was a servant. He was tall and thin with hollowed cheeks and blank eyes, just like the town's other occupants. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, dark bags resting beneath cloudy grey eyes.
"Good evening," he rasped in a voice that sounded like it hadn't been used in weeks. "Welcome to the Vivok estate."
Two more servants emerged from behind him, looking just as tired and worn. Quickly they moved to the carriage, passing the trio as if they weren't even there.
"Clayton and Sylvester will bring your items to your rooms," the first servant continued. "Now, if you would please follow me. The young master and mistress are both eager to meet you." Without even waiting for a response, the servant immediately turned on his heels, entering into the house.
Priscilla, Wheeler, and Mulock exchanged a nervous glance before awkwardly moving to follow.
The castle's insides were just as horrid as its exterior. It was dark, the only light emitted from the rusted candelabras that lined the halls. The wallpaper was thin and peeling, decorated by large paintings that covered the castle walls depicting long dead Vivoks.
Finally the servant led them into a room off the hall. Like the rest, it appeared ancient and rotting. The air was ice cold - something Mulock found rather odd considering the massive fireplace currently ablaze behind the two figures at the room's center.
The servant bowed deeply, gesturing to them now. "These are Count Vivok's children, Lord Lenox and Lady Lilith."
The Vivok children appeared to be a few years older than Wheeler and Priscilla, most likely in their early twenties. It was easy to see the two were twins, their faces identical in nearly every way. Like the rest, they were skinny and pale, dark bags under their eyes giving the impression of exhaustion. Their features were sharp, high cheekbones protruding from their faces. The only true difference between the twins seemed to be their hair. Lilith's was a pale blonde, contained in two tight braids while Lenox's was pitch black of about a similar length, falling freely to his shoulders. Most peculiar of all were their mismatched eyes, each containing one blue and one black on opposing sides.
"Welcome," Lenox said in a whisper of a voice.
"Apologies our father cannot be here to greet you himself," Lilith continued.
"We're afraid he is..."
"Currently indisposed," Lilith finished.
Both twins cocked their heads towards each other in an unsettlingly perfect unison.
"Now," Lenox said. "We have the honor of giving you a tour of the estate."
"And please," Lilith said, smiling thinly, "during your time here, only go to the locations we show you."
"The estate is very old," Lenox continued, the shadows from the fire flickering across his face. "We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt because they wandered somewhere they shouldn't. Right, sister?"
"Indeed, brother."
The siblings smiled at each other simultaneously.
"Now, why don't you follow me," Lenox said, turning back towards the hallway, his sister at his side. "Let's show you the castle."
"Okay!" Wheeler said cheerfully, immediately taking off after them.
As they vanished back into the corridor, Mulock glanced to Priscilla.
"Well that wasn't creepy at all," the demon noted flatly.
Priscilla nodded. "We should probably hurry before Wheeler gets cleaved to death by one of them."
"Agreed."
Awkwardly they glanced at the servant who was still watching them, his expression blank.
"Uh, the whole cleaving thing was a joke, by the way," Priscilla added quickly, though her tone wasn't convincing in the slightest.
The servant didn't react, his gaze still following them even as they slipped out into the dark corridor.
God, it was going to be a long three months. That was...if they even managed to survive it.