The Frog Prince

Chapter 4: The Frog Prince

I awkwardly stared at the swamp witch, who peered back at me from behind round spectacles.

"Well?" she demands. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

I try to think, which is kind of hard, because my brain refuses to work. "Er..."

The swamp witch looks at me expectantly. "Do you know a way out of the well?" I say. I can't think of anything else.

She smiles crookedly, revealing a glorious display of missing, rotten, and yellowing teeth. "Yesss." The way she draws out the s reminds me of a snake. "Death is the exit to this well. Choose death, and you will never have to suffer any more. Plus, I'll get a new set of teeth! I haven't had new teeth in so long," the swamp witch moaned, already drooling just thinking of her new teeth.

I was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Yes, yes. Now, dearie, I thought I was famous up in the Surface Land."

"The Surface Land?"

The swamp witch tutted. "Don't they teach you history in school?"

"Yes, but-"

She had already moved on. Swinging her lantern around her, the swamp witch gestured around the well. "Look, dearie- may I call you Princess?" She didn't wait for my reply. "I'm a swamp witch. I'm older than your great-great grandfather. I first walked the earth when humans were still playing with fire. But teeth, as you know, don't last as long as I have, you know. They decay, they fall out, they become chipped."

The swamp witch pointed to the wall to my left. Small things littered the wall, creating a gruesome receptacle of art. "What are those?" I asked, half not wanting to know.

"Toenails."

I could feel the bile rising up in my throat. "What?"

The swamp witch chuckled. "Toenails, my dear Princess. I'm rather fond of them, as you can see. Whenever a poor, unfortunate soul falls into my well, like you, well," she said, "naturally they want to get out. Apparently my companionship can't be stomached by most people."

I wonder why, I thought sarcastically.

"I've got unlimited reserves of power and magic. Of course I can get them out. But, I have a price. They have to give me their longest toenail clipping, their nicest tooth-"

She pointed to the wall to my right, which was covered in small white little ivories. I gagged. Some of the teeth even had centuries-old gum and blood stuck to them. "Blech," I said.

"-or their firstborn child. And for those who refuse to choose-" She pointed a crooked, yellowing fingernail to the wall behind me.

Slowly, I turned around. 

Corpses. Skeletons. Bones. All manner of cadavers were strung on the wall like the meat hung on chains for sale in the kingdom's annual Hunting Festival.

Finally, inspired by the gruesome spectacle, I couldn't resist the temptation. I threw up.

"There, there," the swamp witch comforted, patting my back. "Choose, and you won't end up like them."

I didn't want her touching me. I didn't want her even near me. If I had my way, I'd rather be in a more disgusting well if it was one that didn't have her in it.

When my stomach stopped heaving its contents out of my mouth and I finally managed to steady my breath, the swamp witch prompted, "Well? Tooth, toenail, firstborn, or death?"

I had had enough. My fear turned to anger. How could she do this? Millennia of murdering humans, taking their firstborn children, innocent children?

Quick as a viper, I whisked out my dagger, Slick, and held it to her neck before she even had a chance to conjure a defense spell. "Don't even think about it," I snarled. "Now, get me out of this stinking well."

Much to my surprise, the swamp witch disappeared in a flurry of water. "Do it yourself," her voice echoed around the well. "Our deal is off. If you don't get out of the well by midnight, I will stop by to collect your body, your teeth, and your toenails."

And, with a puff of smoke, the voice was gone.