Current Time: 03:10 pm EST

I wanna shoop baby


Downloadable Entire Thread (For Excel, use Save As...) 1
  Creator Post Date

Keera Schmidt

Heeeeya, I wanna shoop baby.

Shoop, shoopay doop…

Earpods in. Broom as microphone. Nobody else around. Keera was in heaven. As she swept up the mess on the floors in the print room, she brought that broom to her mouth and shimmied her hips back and forth as the last person had left over an hour ago. Now it was just her, Salt and Pepa, and scraps of paper and dried ink that had fallen on the smooth concrete floor during the production hours.

Her voice was much louder than normal, and normally she was pretty damned loud, as she screamed into her ‘microphone’, “Girls what’s my weakness?” then held it out to her invisible backup singers for ‘MEN’. Okay then.

Backing it up. Sweep. Backing it up. Sweep. Shoulders moving back and forth as the sound of the old female rap song blasted loudly in her ears. It came out before she was born, but her mother had listened to this kind of music when she was growing up and there was nothing like blasting some nineties rap to get someone in the mood for cleaning.

Her shoulder moved, chest popping, hips swaying as she moved all that debris into a pile that would be easier to scoop up when she was all done. Expressive eyebrows and lips made all sorts of faces.

It was a good thing she was alone. But, let’s be honest, she would have probably done the same thing if she wasn’t. The girl wasn’t shy in the least.

Even now, as she used the handle of the broom for leverage so she could stick out her ass and start smacking the palm of her hand against it.

Umm, you're packed and you're stacked 'specially in the back.
Brother, wanna thank your mother for a butt like that.
Can I get some fries with that shake-shake boobie?

Now, she wasn’t a great dancer. She probably wouldn’t even be considered a good dancer. What she lacked in skill, though, she made up for with enthusiasm. There were probably more than one person that she’d met in her life that would call her over the top at times. There were others that would call her downright annoying, but she didn’t care. It was that over the top attitude that was going to get her places in life.

That didn’t, of course, include sweeping floors at a Newspaper printing office. It was a start, though, considering that she was in college right now for communications. Her dream, though? Investigative reporter. She was just pushy enough that she might do well at it. Keera was consistently on the Dean’s list, so at least she had a good start.

The girl was just as hard a worker as she was a dancer. So, pretty fucking hard.

In fact, she was already working up a sweat, her wavy blonde locks sticking to her forehead as she curved her leg around the broom and slid down it.

Then fell right on her ass.

The broom clattered to the ground as the song came to an end, and she was sprawled out and laughing hysterically.

That was right about the time she heard the clapping coming from behind her.

Keera did what any girl in her position would do. She started screaming at the top of her lungs, pulling out the ear pods and tossing them in the ground to stop ‘Baby Got Back’ from drowning out the sounds of her getting murdered. Though, hey, not such a bad soundtrack to go down with.

She scrambled to her feet and turned around. She’d already been breathless, but now her eyes were wide, having grabbed the broom on her way up and was brandishing it now like a weapon. Hey, brooms had lots of different uses.

What met her was a chuckle and raised hands. “I surrender! Don’t hurt me!” It was coming from a blonde man? Boy? Somewhere in the middle? His broad grin showed straight white teeth, and that blonde hair was mussed haphazardly but in that way that lets you know it’s on purpose.

He was pretty. Boy, was he pretty. Chiseled features. Full lips. A slightly pronounced nose, but she liked it. It gave him character and kept him from being too perfect.

Keera relaxed and laughed, shaking her head. “You almost got a broom up yer bum, Michael. How the hell did you get in here?”

“Don’t you know? I’m a master lock picker among other things...but if I told you about them, I’d have to kill you.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but there was still a smile on her lips as she started to sweep her pile back in to, well, a pile. “I didn’t even think I told you where I worked. Also, aren’t we supposed to meet at eight? It’s not even six yet and I’m a wreck.”

He came up behind her with the dustpan, helping her as she swept the debris into it and could start to finish up her shift. Blue met blue, though his were darker. The way the light hit them just now actually made them look like they had a little ring of gold, just around the pupil. It was supposed to be their third date, though he’d asked her out more often than that over the last year. He kept turning up though. Parties she was at. In the mess hall. Even just outside, waiting to walk her to classes. It was sweet, the way he followed her around sometimes.

She had a hard time trusting a boy that was so pretty, not knowing what his intentions were or if she was just another conquest.

Not that she was a virgin. Or a prude. Still, she liked to think she was more to someone than just a one night stand. In the end, she was glad that she’d given him a chance as they’d had a lot of fun together. Third date, though...we all know what happens on those. She wasn’t sure she was quite there yet.

“You didn’t tell me. Besides being a master lock picker, I’m also a master spy. I used my superior knowledge of the human psyche to figure out where you were.” He said it easy, breezy, beautiful but...something about it…

Felt off.
November 10, 2019 11:30 pm

Keera Schmidt

She laughed it off. She always laughed things off, choosing that instead of letting it show that she was bothered her. Then, later, she’d go home and eat a tub of ice cream and try to forget about it. Or cry. Keera just didn’t like to do that actually in front of people. At least this time she wasn’t crying, or wanting to, she was just getting this feeling.

Like the rising of hair on the back of her neck and her arms.

Like she should be making a slow and not so obvious move towards the door.

Like...something just wasn’t right.

You know, a girl should always listen to those instincts.

“Yeah, here I thought you were a political science major, not psychology.” She leaned over to pick her ear pods off of the floor but was very wary about how she did so. Facing him. There was definitely something different about him tonight and she didn’t feel comfortable with her back to him.

“Nah, I’m just observant is all. No psychology about it, really. I like observing you.” The way he said it was like a compliment. Sweet and lovely and just too much because it still got under her skin.

She shoved the pods in her pocket. “Yeah, I mean, I did give you quite a show there didn’t I? Honestly, I feel like I should have charged for that performance. Drama, intrigue, a fall on my ass. Don’t worry, the DVD’s and the Tee’s will be on sale in the morning.” Laugh it off. Yeah, she could laugh it off.

And, you know, try not to think about the fact this dude just broke into her place of work.

Do you ever have one of those ‘aha’ moments in life? Like...aha, this dude just committed a crime to get in here. Or...aha, I think this dude’s been showing up more and more places lately, and aha, I think he’s sort of stalking me?

For now he was just smiling that charming smile and standing there with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans looking all too good. He wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t moving, just grinning. And the light was playing strange tricks on his eyes again, looking more golden than blue at the moment.

Yeah, no. Something shifted inside of Keera. Her heart rate rose and she could feel anxiety ripple through slim frame. “So, yeah. Right. I’m really dirty and gross. Can we meet up later?” Lie. She was going to figure out some excuse out of it now, though she wasn’t going to let him know that NOW, obviously.

His posture shifted, nostrils flaring as he took in a breath. Like he could smell it on her. Like he knew she was just trying to get him to leave. I mean, she was, but that was besides the point. The smile wavered then it shifted too. Was it possible for a human to look...well...predatory? Because that’s exactly what he reminded Keera of right now.

A predator.

When Michael spoke again, even the cadence and tone of his voice had changed. Gruffer. Lower. Enough that it sent another spike of panic through her. “You know, Keera. I really like you. A lot. I know, I know, maybe I’ve come on too strong, but I can’t help it. I want you. For mine. Forever. Yeah we’ve only been on two dates, but I can see a real future for us.”

Okay, mister red flag. It wasn’t just a flag anymore, though. It was big flashing red lights of doom.

Two dates and this mother fucker talking about a ‘future’ and ‘forever’? Time to peace out, sauerkraut. “Honestly, Michael, I’m feeling pretty worn out today. Do you think we could like, reschedule, or something?” Totally ignoring the whole conversation he was trying to start. Or maybe statement. Didn’t matter, because she was peacing the fuck out before it got to the point where she felt in danger.

Which, it would seem, was about five minutes ago.

Hindsight. 20/20. Shit.

There had been a few paces between them and she was currently trying to circumvent his larger frame without getting close enough to touch him. He was fast, though. Faster than she would have thought humanly possible.

That was the ticket though, wasn’t it? Not something she’d realize until after. When she’d had time to think about it.

Now, there wasn’t time to think. Just react. Like when he grabbed her arm and twisted it. “You can’t just run away. You’re mine, right? You’ll see...promise, it will all make sense. Just trust me.” Yeah, she was totally going to trust someone that was trying to break her arm. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like.

“Michael, I don’t trust you at all right now. In fact, I’d really like it if you let me the fuck go.”

Surprise. He didn’t. Instead he started to shift...change...and it was almost too much for her human brain to wrap around as his teeth elongated, barely able to fit in the face that still looked for the most part like Michael. All but the teeth. And eyes. It hadn’t been a trick of the light at all, had it? They were golden completely now.

She stomped down on his foot.


With all she had to give, actually.

But he didn’t even seem to register it. She tried to pull away, and she tried not to completely freak out. It was all just her imagination. This couldn’t actually be happening. Just her mind playing tricks on her and projecting its own version of the man that had all of the sudden become a monster.

His hand was like a steel vice, though.

There was no way he was that strong. Or that she was that weak.

She felt weak, though. Helpless. And scared out of her fucking mind. She didn’t want to tears to come, but they did. Keera hated crying, but she was terrified. Finally, she screamed. It couldn’t be helped as she felt those jagged, sharp, teeth dig into the skin of her neck and shoulder. Ripping skin. Burying into her. Tears streamed in constant now over her cheeks.

Blood soaked the teeshirt she’d been wearing. Stained her skin. Trickled down her chest and back but he didn’t let go. So she screamed and cried and pleaded for him to stop. Pushing him, hitting him, trying to pull away. His teeth had her in a vice grip, though.

The bite...oh, if only it had ended at the bite. In the end, she tried to block it all out. She tried to push her mind into a happy place and forget, ignore, what was happening to her. As it turned out, she would never be able to forget. Every month, every full moon, would be a reminder of what had happened here tonight.

But for now, in that moment, all she could do was retreat and find that numb place inside and hope...hope it would be over soon. Or that she would die.

The latter seemed like a better choice.
November 11, 2019 02:12 pm

Keera Schmidt

A month. Okay, maybe it was just under a month. Anyways, it had been just about that long since Keera had woken up in the hospital. The fact that she’s woken up at all was a mystery to the doctors. Being in a coma with some strange infection that almost killed you isn’t something a girl usually wakes up from. All of that after being found by your coworkers the morning after an ...attack. Yeah, they said she was lucky.


Lucky her.

Well, at least there was part of her that must have been lucky. Other than a few super weird letters and cards while she was in the hospital, Michael had been nowhere to be found. Funny story. He wasn’t even enrolled in the college she went to. They found that out after she’d named him as the man who’d hurt her. The police had been the ones to find that out, which was a total surprise to her.

Which meant what? That he’d been coming to the university just to follow her around? If she had been asked that a few months ago she would have told the person asking that they were crazy.

Who the fuck would do something like that?

A crazy person.

Oh, right. That brings us back to the letters and cards.Talk about crazy person.

He’d apologized. Of course he had. Not for attacking her, but for not being around. He had to go back home to his ‘pack’ and he didn’t know when he could come back for her and that the first full moon was going to be especially rough for a new werewolf.

Not that he was sorry for hurting her, but sorry he couldn’t stick around and watch her turn into a wolf? Yeah. Crazy. The thing was that, even now, she could remember his face when he’d bitten her. It hadn’t been a human face.

Maybe she was the one that was mad.

But I don’t want to go around mad people…
Oh, you can’t help that.
We’re all mad here.

She didn’t want to think about that, though. In fact, she didn’t want to think about any of it. Ever. At all. Nothing like repression to make your day a little brighter! So, that’s what she did. Pushed down the thoughts of the man that had written things like “I made you and I marked you. You’re mine now.”

She pushed down the thoughts of all the things that had happened to her that night.

The only thing to remind her was, of course, the marks on her throat and shoulder that had healed but that remained white scar tissue on her tanned flesh. That’s what turtlenecks were for.

In Australia.

When, for some odd reason she’d been a lot warmer than normal lately. Early onset menopause? The doctors said no, but she wasn’t sure she could trust them.

That’s okay. She would just chalk it up to some sort of hormone issue and move on with her life. A life where she was always uncomfortably hot. She was sure she would acclimate or, hopefully, go back to normal after a while. Funny. Normal. Little did she know that normal simply wasn’t an option for her anymore.

Still...she was going to try her damndest at it. Like tonight, going out drinking with her friends. It was the first night since the ‘incident’ that she’d felt like leaving the house. That didn’t mean, of course, that she hadn’t left the house. It was just that she actually wanted to. Fact. She had been forcing herself into normal behaviors because it was better than curling in on herself and wanting to die.

That was just the once, really.

Okay, maybe three or four times after that. Seven tops.

But she wasn’t going to fall into that pit. No fucking way. Pit was bad. Avoidance was good.

This would be her first time, though, in that near month, that she had gone to a place that was so public. A bar, to be completely transparent. With people. Lots of people. She could handle that. No, she WOULD handle that, because she was in charge of her emotions damnit.

A couple of friends. Her. Beer. What could go wrong?

It didn’t matter that her sense of smell was off the charts. I mean, yes, it did matter because she could smell everything at the bar. Sweat. Alcohol. Pheromones. If she concentrated, and believe me she didn’t want to, she could make out every single person in the building and their unique scent.

Part of her wondered, again, if the doctors and then five dozen or so pregnancy tests she’d taken were wrong.
That was the only thing that made sense. The rise in body temperature. The senses on full tilt. Other than the whole ‘she definitely wasn’t pregnant’ thing, it would have made sense.

No, she wasn’t going to think about THAT either. She was going to put this nice mug to her lips and take a nice drink from it and talk to the nice boy at the bar. The nice boy who was getting very close to her, leaning in, talking. His hand on her back. Leaning into her.

Suddenly, it was too much. She needed air. She’d even told him so before trying to back away from him, but there were people everywhere. And his hand was tightening at her waist. It was too much.

She had shoved him. That’s the last thing she remembered. She had laid him out, ass on the ground, and made her way towards the door.

Then she was gone.
December 01, 2019 07:32 pm
Actives (13) Fresh Blood (1) View All The Fallen (0) Graveyard
Vexa, London, Zahrah Mubarack, Don Collier, Dexter Gein, _author, WildKat, Mallory Quarters, Azhi 2, MenagerieToo, Azhi 1, Menagerie, Azhi punchbag  Jules Winnfield   
Home | Profile | Forums | F.A.Q. | Donate | Terms of Use | Privacy Policy | Cookie Policy | Contact Us
Created by Arctic Moon Studios. All rights reserved. © Bloodletting 2006-2016

Official Sites for Bloodletting
Blogger | Twitter