Toad
Toad moped around the mansion, dodging students and teachers alike. Bloody hell and Jaysus Christ f*cking the Mother Mary, but he couldn't stand this much longer. Trapped. Black band around his ankle and he couldn't leave. The woman who'd tried very hard to kill him and damn near succeeded walking near him everyday, and he knew he'd tried his hardest to kill her too. Made his palms sweat, made him jumpy. Well, more jumpy then usual.
He cursed fluently in London street slang, tongue making it hard for him to enunciate properly. No one ever thought about how hard it was to speak with a 6 foot long tongue. How hard it was to eat. Or smoke. Or drink. Do most anything. Just judged. Illilerate, foul mouthed, poorly hygiened, disgusting Toad.
He found there was no one in the rec room and flopped down on the couch, sighing to himself. He clicked the tv on. Maybe he could find a good football match...gah, fashion show.
He was going to start channel surfing, when something caught his eye and he looked deeper at the model strutting her way down the catwalk. No. Oh, no, what he thought couldn't be what she was wearing. Glittering scaled dress, with a hood that covered her head. He blinked. A pattern he knew. No. Oh god. He quelled nausea, wanting to go throw up now.
"Jist yew, Slither?"
"Jussssst me," the other mutant hissed through snake-like fangs, poison gleaming amber wetly from their points.
The scaled girl smiled at him, her nude head gleaming as he relit his cigarette.
Dear sweet Mother of God, let me be wrong, he prayed like he hadn't for years. Please let that dress not be what I think it is.
"A man wantsssss to pay for my sssservicessss for a few weekkssss," she hissed, forked tongue flickering out to taste the air, flattened slitted nose not used for that anymore.
Toad croaked a laugh.
"Look after yewself, ducks. Not playing with the rough trade, are yew?"
She snickered along with him, fangs gleaming.
"I can alwayssss bite him, Toad."
"Yew can do that, yew smart bitch yew."
She'd walked down the corridor, scales gleaming in the reflected light from his cigarette. He hadn't thought more on it. Slither was a big girl, she could take care of herself. Besides, they hadn't really had much to do with each other. Fooled around a bit.
The model turned and Toad saw a mark on the dress that made his heart stop beating and the urge to vomit stronger then ever. He'd teased her about the heart shaped pattern of darker scales just above the small of her back, the point pointing upwards. She'd laughed, and said it was a right way up sign God had put on topsy turvy.
Those bastards. Oh god, Slither. They'd skinned her and someone was wearing her like a dress. Oh my god. That was...
Toad turned the tv off with a click and blundered away to go sit by the lake and brood. Maybe he cried. If he did, no one knew and he would never admit it. As he mourned a prostitute no one else would ever know had actually existed as a person in her own right.
The ball of hate in his chest started to heat.