With a final turn of the wrench, the refrigerant tubes were properly sealed, and Doctor Mercurial’s new magical freezer was complete. She wiped the oil and other strange chemicals her hands had accumulated onto her overalls. Now to test it.

From a nearby table, she retrieved the apple she’d placed for this purpose. When she opened the freezer door, white mist poured out. She tossed the apple in, which landed with a crunch in the ice, then dropped the freezer door closed again.

With a few minutes to kill, she turned to various other projects around the room. The table bore several clay pieces in various states of completeness, as well as the chest and head of a man turned to clay she was using as a model. The idea of contaminating her clay with the residue left on her fingers quickly turned her off of it, or most anything else she could be doing in the room. Sculpture, painting, or even reading was better left until she’d washed her hands. She expected the freezer to work quickly, though, so she folded her arms, leaned against the table, and waited.

After a few minutes went by, she guessed it had been long enough. Opening the door to the freezer was surprisingly effortless, this time: a wave of mist inside was pushing hard against it, and rolled out onto the floor, chilly against her feet. She waved some of the mist away until she could see a bit of red through it, then plunged her hand in and snatched it out.

Slowly, she turned the frozen apple, inspecting it. It had taken on a very satisfying glassy sheen. She set it back on the table… or at least she tried to. She noted with some mild irritation that her fingers wouldn’t open. At no point had it felt more than a little cold, so it wasn’t until discovering she couldn’t move it that she realized it was numb.

She raised her hand for a second inspection. It was pale, a tiny bit blue, and a light dusting of frost had formed over it. She deemed it to probably not be a problem, and moved on to the next step in the test: the hammer.

Holding the apple still was no problem, so she took her claw hammer in her left, and gave it one good, firm strike.

The surface of the apple cracked and splintered, but more importantly was how it splintered. She examined the dark, glasslike spiderweb of cracks, and raised her hammer victoriously.

A few seconds of rubbing her frozen hand, and she was able to get it open again. Already, the frost was starting to fade, and as she worked it open and closed, the easier movement became. In a way, freezing her hand had been a helpful accident: it was recovering to normal appearance and function, which told her that that aspect of the magic was also working as intended.

With an energetic trot, the Doctor made a quick stop by a restroom, washing her hands and face, then the closet where she’d hidden away a pretty, little head.

The young woman’s mouth worked quickly, but to no avail. She might have been trying to plead or ask questions as Mercurial hurried her back to the workshop. In a minute, it wouldn’t matter.

Of course, toying with people who wouldn’t exist soon was something of a hobby to the magician. After all, such games were for her own benefit, not her victims’. In this case, however, she was too eager to see this test through and in any case, didn’t speak Vietnamese.

She opened the freezer again, with an alarmingly loud crack. She wondered if perhaps the magic freezing process was having an unintended effect on the rubber seals. It was probably something that could be fixed. Either that, or she’d have to leave the freezer off all the time, and replace the seals after each use.

As she raised the soon-to-be costume head, the other woman stared at her levelly. Was that judgement? An attempt at defiance? Or was she emotionally burned out already?

It wasn’t important. She dropped her into the freezer, and closed the door.

She hadn’t waited even a minute before the door began to bob. The cracking sounds got louder and louder. Merc grimaced. Maybe the freezer would be best repurposed as a haunted house prop. She chuckled softly as cold mist started to leak out. Was the freezer agreeing? Haunted houses, particularly the ones designed for young adults, did provide some nice opportunities. She imagined pouring liquid nitrogen out of a magic freezer onto some zombie cheerleader’s feet.

The cracking and banging was becoming infuriating. Hoping that it had been long enough, she flung the freezer open, and snatched the head from within.

Her knees and ankles were stiff as she stepped out of the rolling mist. With the right alterations, she supposed, she wouldn’t even need liquid nitrogen to play some nasty tricks.

The frozen face was scrunched up tight, possibly having started crying. This wasn’t ideal - she’d hoped it would keep that more neutral expression - but wasn’t unexpected. She was a little worried it might cause the cracks to bend away from the face when relaxed or smiling, but she’d have to judge the look when she saw it.

She set the head on the table. Fortunately, her hands were also only stiff, this time, their dip in the freezer having been very shallow and brief. She rolled it on its side, positioning it carefully with the right cheek up. Again, she took up the hammer, and like the apple, gave the head a nice, firm whack.

Then she raised her arm high, and gave it another.

In frustration, with grit teeth, she pounded at the frozen cheekbone, emitting a loud grunt with each impact.

She took a few deep breaths, and set the hammer aside with a sigh. It seemed a frozen head was much harder to crack than a frozen apple. She’d barely put a dent in it.

If she wanted to look like a broken doll this Halloween, Doctor Mercurial would need something more powerful.

Now, where did she leave that sledgehammer?