Screwy Maid Antics (Pt. 1)

>You honestly weren’t sure of this development at all.

>Your maid for the week couldn’t come to the house at all… But instead of just canceling the service, they sent you a replacement.

>You were assured that the replacement knew what she was doing and that she was pretty good, with no complaints from any of her other customers.

>Yet… This girl who showed up on your doorstep didn’t look like she had ANY business wearing a maid outfit.

>Her messy gray-blue hair flowed to either side of her face, her wide light purple eyes feeling like they were pinning you to the spot. She had her arms wrapped in bandages and her maid outfit had patches here and there, with the occasional sticker. She stood up straight, looking up at you from her position on the porch.

>You just stood there speechless. She stood there, smiling in response.

>You’ve been like this for 3 minutes now.

>And nothing has changed.

>She hasn’t spoken at all.

>Just stood there smiling.

“…Um. Hello?” You say weakly. “A-are you… The replacement?”

>She just nods, not taking her eyes off you at all. You wince a bit at the otherworldliness of her.

>She suddenly bows and takes a card out of her front pocket, smiling all the while. She holds it out to you and you slowly take it, unsure of what it could be until you see the company’s logo stamped on it.

>As soon as you open it, she flies right past you, into the house, and disappears. Aren’t you supposed to at least tell her what she’s supposed to clean up? You turn, but you notice she’s already gone: She’s fast.

>You walk in and shut the door behind you, opening and reading the card to yourself as you make your way to the living room.

“To whom it may concern: This maid is an accomplished worker who passed out check and completed our cleanliness courses with high marks. Her name is Ms. Screw. She does have some very obvious and important to note drawbacks; She’s mostly silent, a bit absent-minded and tends to exhibit odd behavior from time to time. If her services become a problem, call the company number.”

>You stop and re-read that again. Okay, so the maid knows what she’s doing, but she might be a total space cadet. Nothing too life-or-death important about that. But the “odd behavior” part is the one that leaves your to wonder. What odd stuff does she do? Is it something to be concerned about?

>You walk into the living room and look around. She’s not in here, but a couple of the doors are open… She’s probably touring the house on her own, looking around and mapping stuff out. That’s cool, you guess.

>You decide you might as well just chill out in your room until she needs you or something. You head upstairs and look around.

>She hasn’t been up here yet, but you can hear her heels clicking on the hardwood. It almost sounds likes she’s running around down there, but you can’t be sure.

“Hey, be careful, alright? The cleaning supplies are in the closet at the end of the hall!” You shout down at her.

>The sound stops for a brief second, and then grows fainter. She probably heard you. Good.

>You make your way down the upper hallway, noting that it’s carpeted up here and that she might have to take the vacuum to it. You pout a bit, knowing that she’ll probably wake you up from your nap soon if she’s THAT hardworking.

>You open the door to your room and sigh. It’s a mess: Trash everywhere, clothes everywhere, cords and magazines everywhere… Ah well. You’ll get around to cleaning it.

>You wade through the sheet of trash and flop onto the bed, knocking off a bunch of old clothes and bags. You wonder how you’re not fat with all the junk and stuff you consume… Must be a metabolism thing.

>You fish out your phone and begin surfing the web, knowing that there’s a computer in the room with you, but not being arsed enough to weave yourself into the chair with all the disks and books and wires all strewn about.

>You pause and yawn, not hearing anything from downstairs. Huh. You’d think with all the running around she’d be making a racket by now.

>You shrug and close your eyes, wanting to doze off and wake up to a cleaner house… You struggle with it, but you manage to slip into sleep for a while…

>…

>You have a dream that girl’s in the kitchen, staring out the window, that same smile on her face as she reaches slowly for a knife from the rack. Her smile widens a bit…

>She turns, traveling through the house. It’s spotless, for the most part: But the way she’s acting is really creepy. She still has it in her hand. Maybe she forgot something?

>She heads up the stairs, a giggle coming from her. She’s pretty agile for someone in heels…! Wait, why’s she going upstairs?!

>Wait… is that… your room, there…?! Where’s she going with that knife?! You reach out to her, but you’re a specter in your own dream… She’s at your bedside! Wake up, you idiot! Wake up!

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>…!

>You sit up, your heart in your throat, your head snapping to look at the door: It’s wide open, with a gigantic black bag next to it. The hell? You closed it, you were sure of it!

>Wait, the floor’s clean, and your clothes are in a huge pile. The hell? Was she really in here? While you were asleep?

>And then you hear it: A panting noise. It’s clear… and sounds really close.

“…? Wait, hu-“ You sputter.

>You look down, in the direction of the noise. A pair of lavender eyes stares back.

>Your heart freezes as you realize she’s sitting between your legs, looking up at you… breathing heavily.

“U-um! W-what’re you…?!” You gasp.

>Oh shit! What if she’s going to kill you!? Why’s she there?! This close?! And panting like that?!

>She stops and smiles, stretching her arm further out of sight… under the bed?! Oh hell no, you’re about to get murdered!

>You quickly stumble and crawl backwards, falling off the other side of the bed and smashing your head twice: Once on the nightstand, and again on the bedframe. You groan in pain, the sudden drop in gravity and pain stunning you.

>Then you feel her hands wrap around your chest and you grunt in confusion as she yanks you upwards and back onto the bed, that same smile on her face.

>You breathe, rubbing your head and staring up at her from your position in bed. What is she going to do to you? She hasn’t hurt you yet… Your eyes flick to what she has in her hand.

>A bunch of shirts you tucked under the bed when you had company. Oh. Phew.

“Ah… Ahah… you scared the sh-“ You breathe, but you’re cut off.

>She puts a knee on the bed, leaning in close to you. You freeze, looking her over. She’s very defined for a maid…

>She places a hand on your head and pulls it forward, making you look at her legs. You wince as she taps a spot on your head with her fingers. It stings a bit…

“O-ow…!” You choke, your hands flying to hers on top of your head. “What’re you doing?!”

>She simply lets go of your head and climbs off of the bed, letting your hands cover the spot on your head.

>You look up at her and her expression’s changed. She’s still smiling, but she look… worried.

>You take a moment to breathe and look around…

>She picked up all the books, untangled a lot of the wires and wrapped them up, cleaned most of the floor, collected all your clothes into a pile and straightened out the computer desk and chair.

>All while you were asleep. That’s a bit unnerving.

“Arf?”

And now you must be hearing things due to the bump on your head…

>You look up at her, confused.

“I’m sorry, what?” you mumble, not sure if you need to go to the hospital.

“Arf? Arf?” She says again, pointing at your head.

>…

>She’s barking. You must’ve knocked something loose.

>Before you can ask her what she said again, she bolts off, snagging the bag with her as she flies out of the room, down the hallway and down the stairs.

>… You lean back, taking some deep breaths.

>It was just a dream! She wasn’t going to murder you… You must’ve let your apprehensions about her sneak up on you. But… Why was she panting like that between your legs?

>You blush as your mind wanders… but then you look around the room again and it clicks: She was exhausted from cleaning up your room while she was reaching for stuff under your bed.

>You close your eyes for a second before you hear her footsteps returning, the same frequency as they left. You turn to the door and she’s already through it, a bag of peas in her hand.

“Oh, Uh, That’s oka-“ You begin, but you don’t finish that sentence, either.

>She grabs your head and pushes you to her stomach, applying the peas to the back of your head. She’s panting again, and you feel her wiggling as she holds the peas to your head.

>With the combination of being pressed against her warm stomach and the ice cold peas on your scalp, you can’t raise an argument. It feels better than just laying back and hoping you’re not concussed.

“Thanks… Ms. Screw.” You sigh.

“Arf.” She replies back.

>You’re sure that she just barks. Which is definitely odd. But if she cleans like this, then… You guess you don’t mind… At least not right now, anyways.

>You blush as you feel her pet you with her other hand, comforting you from the apparent trauma of scaring you off your bed and into an injury. B

>Suddenly, something beeps loudly and she freezes. You look at her arm and see a small watch is going off. She lifts it to her face and her smile seems to grow sad and she hits the button on it.

“…You’re done for the day?” You guess, reaching your hand upward to hold the peas in her place. “That’s fine, I’m sure you got a lot done.”

>She continues to wiggle in place, her hand not leaving the bag of peas. Her eyes flick from it to your eyes.

“…Oo-h, I’ll be fine, just… You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” You ask, trying to match her eternal smile.

“Arfarf!” She responds, bouncing a bit.

>You chuckle at the display and take the peas in both hands as she slowly withdraws hers from your head and the bag.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Screw.” You say, assuredly.

>She just nods and speeds out of your room. You yawn and get up to follow her out, but you probably won’t be able to wave her off unless you run after her...

>You step a few steps and then job after her, but you already hear her steps fading on the downstairs hardwood. You heave as you leap off the steps and stumble a bit.

“ArfArf! Rrrrrrf!”

>You look up and see her at the door, her hand on the handle yet looking at you with a angry look. Maybe she’s telling you to take it easy?

“Ah, sorry…. I wanted to see you off.” You say, standing up straight.

>She just waves and swings open the door, stepping out and slamming it behind her. You wince at the sound, but you just shrug and decide to look around. The living room seems to be clean.

>You check the other parts of the house: bathrooms, kitchen, rec room, hallways… All clean. Wow.

>You set the peas back in the freezer and look around the kitchen, one more time. You especially look at the knife rack: All of them are there.

>Phew… That’s a relief. Shrugging it off, you decide to make yourself a sandwich and head back to bed. You have no clue what you’ll be up to tomorrow… Or what Ms. Screw will help you with.