MONSTER GIRL DAYCARE (Chapter 2)

I’ve been to hell and back. Seen bodies hanging from trees, torn to pieces from artillery. Had my right eye gouged out by some slav Jinko. I have killed man and monster alike. But I never have faced a quite a horror like changing a kids diaper.

MONSTER GIRL DAYCARE PROLOGUE

“God, there's shit everywhere.”

“Yea, that’s what you signed up for Olga.”  A familiar voice chimes from my blind spot.

It’s that Kikimora, she was the type of girl that back in basic, would wash out. Must be nice to be ‘normal’.

She was a soft woman, but well versed in dealing with children. The fact that she did not get her feathers dirty dealing with these ‘bundles of joy’ impresses me.

I had never been good with delicate work. My ass had to slither over landmines, setting them off, allowing transport trucks to make it to their destination safely. Being a Wurm had its advantages along with disadvantages.

I grab the tiny square sheet of baby towel and try and clean the humans’ feces ridding lower half. Why did humans poop so much.

By the time I had gotten him clean, Holly had already cleaned 4 girls. She was good at this. I’d had only been trained to kill, I was out of my field of expertise.

Finally getting the 2 year old into a diaper, he starts to giggle. I remember why I wanted to come here.

“You did good Olga.” Holly smiles at me, taking the kid off the table and cradling him.

I turn to look at the other kids. The all hide behind Holly.

“He he, maybe if you don’t wear black all the time, the kids would like you more.”

“Pink French maid outfits are not my thing.” I sigh. “I’m a warrior at heart.”

“It would be better than your black ‘combat bdu’ and scary black eye patch.”

I look at the kids then look down at my uniform. I guess I could change.

CHAPTER 1
ANTI-TANK

Was I truly an oddity?

I know that I’m a bit war torn, but to think that I get stared at even 10 years after the war. I guess olive drab attracts attention. My current job is kind of the same as being in the army.

Helping people is what I wanted to do since I was a kid. While I could have been a vet or a doctor, I decided to be a combat engineer. My reason to do this came from my parents. They were both combat vets and unfortunately they both died when I was 18. The next day I signed up for basic.

But, that’s all in the past now.

I take a deep breath and sigh as I enter the mall and look around. Ah, the map. I scan for the location of a fabric store. I could have used a cell phone, but my hands were too big and I would usually break them. The smartest purchase I have ever made was the phone with oversized buttons for old humans.

The store is about 6 shops down. I needed to make my appearance less harsh. Pink is an emasculating colour. I was a pretty beefy and that meant I was pretty scary for kids. Oni’s would constantly walk up and ask me how I got this way. All I could say is “Join the army.” They would all walk away with their heads hung low. I never knew why they always walked away dejected.

I stood in front of Maryle’s Fabricland, quite the name.

As I enter the land of fabric, I am greeted by a centaur.

“H-Hello.”

“Greetings, I’m looking for a stain resistance, pink fabric.”

“I-I think I h-have w-what you’re l-looking for.” “P-Please follow m-me.”

She guides me through the shop. The vast array of colours and patterns on the fabric makes me happy. As to why I do not know. I run my callused hands over the soft ones and the fluffy ones. Once again I am filled with that childlike sense of wonder and fun. It’s been far too long since I felt this way. The first time I felt like this is when I started at the daycare.

A little tiny human boy could not have been about 3, walked up to me as I was watching the playground. He kicked me, then span around until he fell on his but and rested his head against me.

“U-Uhh, m-mam.”

“I apologize, I was lost in thought.”

“I-I have about f-five choices.” “W-What are y-you planning to u-use this fabric f-for?”

“I need to make myself more appealing to children.”

Ohhhh h-hoooohhh, I s-see.” Her ears perk up though her blond hair.

My face shot bright red “No, I mean kids find me scary.” “I work at a day care and well…”

“S-Sorry, I d-did not mean to jump t-to that conclusion.” “This f-fabric would be a g-good choice.”

Her hand waves over a pink roll of fabric

“I-It has those f-fancy micro t-things.” “I h-hear the army u-uses the same t-technology.”

“I will take 10 meters please.”

“R-Right away m-miss.”

“I’m also looking for patches.”

“T-Those would be in aisle n-number 2.”

I leave her to cut the length and make my way over.

They had a whole section dedicated to patches. They had thousands ranging from TV shows all the way down to paladin ones. I look at the signs. There must be one for babies. At the end of the aisle there was a bin full of cute teddy bears and Cheshire cats. Then I pick it up.

It’s a teddy bear. It has a rattle in one hand and a binky in the other. A warm felling fills me. This is the one.

I make my way to the register.

“I would like this patch.”

“C-Certainly, y-your total will b-be 45.70 p-please.”

A stuttering centaur, that was odd.

I slither back to my apartment. I could not wait to sow. Back in basic I became proficient in sewing despite my big hands. Most of my comrades were more than impressed with the quality of the work. I was in pain most of the time from stabbing myself. But, as with all things I became better over time.

I head to my sowing room, what some people would call a guest room, and I start work on an apron.

I grab some black thread and start to reminisce….

About 3 hours later I had a pink apron with black stitching. It looked good but the pièce de résistance was my old black eye patch. It now had that teddy bear on it.

I look in the mirror. The olive drab did not look to good with this, I needed a change.

I head to my room and open my bottom drawer. That is where I kept my civilian clothes.

I don an old black sweater and the equivalent to jeans for a snake. It was just a skirt, but they hugged your body, allowing you to show off your hips.
I look in the mirror and I am amazed at what I look like.

My gray hair, a touch darker than the sweater looked more youthful. My eye patch now looked cute with its newfound friend. My sweater was when I was not as big as I am now, so it hugged my body a bit tighter, making everything stand out more. My skirt did the same, making my hips look rather attractive. Then there was the apron. It was perfect. I gave the most motherly smile I could give with a scarred face like mine. And for once, I looked like I did work at a day care.

I turned away from the mirror excited of what the kids and my coworkers were going to think of me.

I raised my arms and jumped in excitement, putting two holes in my roof.

Uhhhhhhh, fuck my hands.

CHAPTER 3
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*
I awake from my slumber. The morning light hits my tired face. People say that the morning is the best time to be awake because its ‘refreshing’. I hate those people. I hit the alarm to silence the beeping racket.

I rise up, my pajamas falling a bit. I move my blouse strap back to my shoulder. The thing was getting a bit ragged. All of the green and browns were fading. I look in the mirror. I look like a mess, from my disheveled hair down to my cracked and scarred body. Well I was never going to win any beauty contests anyway, not after that Jinko.

“Uhhhh…..I need caffeine.”

I grab my sock and roll it up. Rolling the sock up my body was starting to become a hassle. It was starting to stretch and there was a hole at the end, left the tip of my tail cold. “Where did I leave my eye patch again?” I can worry about my eye patch latter, coffee was more important.

I grab the beans from the cupboard and scoop them into the grinder. I remember when I got back this thing would give me flashbacks. It still puts me on edge, but I’m getting used to it.

It would take about 10 minutes for the coffee to be ready. Good time for a shower.
The sun creeps through the bathroom window. 6:30 was far too early for anybody to be up, but yet here I am, sitting on the toilet staring at the light drifting up the closed door. It was going to be a long day, but the smell of coffee….uuuhhh that glorious smell of beans.

I hop in the shower. It was a shame that I was taller than the shower. Then again it was a shame that I moved into a human apartment. Everything was always a bit too small for me. Half of my body would stick out of the tub at all times. Well the place was cheaper than a house meant for girls of my caliber.

Finally getting clean, I enter the kitchen. Ahh that smell, wonderful. I grab a cup and pour out the black gold that makes morning bearable. The taste of sweet, bitter roast fills my mouth. I roll the dark liquid around. The thickness of the flavours envelops all of my senses. I let it rest in my tongue before I swallow. The feeling of it going down my throat makes me shudder.

That’s a good cup of coffee.

I had an hour to get ready for work. So I sit and indulge in my happy little caffeinated world. I was happy to spend so much money on the beans and various machines that made me the one good thing in my life. If I could find a man that was like a good espresso, strong, short, and delicious, my life would be a lot better.
I look at the last bit of coffee in the cup. “Sigh, better get ready.”
.
I was looking forward to the reaction of everybody seeing the new apron and eye patch. I throw them into my bag. Bending over I feel tightness. I wish that this sweater and skirt did not hug me so tight. Then again I could not stop staring at my hips in the mirror. They looked, better, not as bulky than they look in a military uniform.

“Well, guess it’s time to go.”

The trip to the daycare was about 14 blocks. Most of was through the suburbs. It was nice to walk by all the wives and husbands leaving for work, well except one. An Oni was out the door when a man slapped her ass. she picked him up and ran back inside. Must be nice to still be that young.

About 10 blocks from work is where I go to get breakfast. I’ve been there so often that now they have it ready for me before I get there. Three Cheshire sisters run that place called it mad hatters café. They’re real original. Their coffee is crap but they have an excellent breakfast burrito so it’s worth the trip.

I walk through the door, a chime singles my arrival.

“Hello Olga, here’s your food.”

I glance at the name tag as I grab the brown bag

“Thanks Bleu.”

I hand her the 12 dollars and make my way back out, discarding the brown bag in the trash. They came from France. Their parents were artist so the named them the three primary colours. Jaune, Rouge, and Bleu, respectively.

I unfold the paper and am greeted with a wonderful cheesy, bacon-y smell. I nearly eat half of the thing in one bite. If only I had some good coffee to go with it. I take a smaller bite savoring the red and green peppers, the eggs and cheese contrasting, then the bacon adding that smoky flavor. Once again I am in bliss.

Those people who say that the like morning, they might have something.

I finish my last bite of my little perfection as I enter the daycare.

“Hello Olga.” The kikimora bows “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Once again I will half to say no, I don’t like tea.”

“Very well, have you seen Ash on your way here?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Holly bows once more before going to the change room.

Ash was….well….how would you describe somebody who has never had the slightest notion of frustration in their entire life? Calm, tranquil? None of the words could ever fathom how calm she was. Maybe it had something to do with the 8 arms.

I could take tank rounds all day, maybe 105 shells if I decided to flex, but I would trade it all for 8 arms. That kraken sure was lucky. I could make so many cups of coffee at the same time. Pure bliss escapes me once more.

I change into my clothes in the staff room. The apron tied in a bow. I look in the mirror.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what.” A soft voice chimes

“This back bow that Holly has, I’m not able to pull it off.”

“Well for one she is smaller than you, she uses that bow to make herself seem larger.”
“More welcoming with the frills, like the frilly French maid outfit for instance.”

“That’s what I wanted to do.”

“Ahh but Olga, all you really need to do is make your face softer.”

“So the new apron and eye patch are not going to scare away the little ones.”

“New eye patch?” She leans in, examining my bad eye.

“My goodness, I have never laid my eyes on an adorable eye patch in all my life.”

“S-So the kids will like it?”

“I am most certain they will.”

I am relieved to hear that Ash thinks that it will work. Maybe today will not make a child cry.

“Oh Ash, Holly wanted to see you I think.”

“I better go see what worries her.”

She makes her way out of the room. I wonder how she walks. Is it like a spider, or more like a human?

I look at the clock, “Almost 8”. I make a pot of coffee. Not for me but for Holly and Ash. This coffee maker is one of those 10 dollar shop ones, won’t even blast the cup with hot air to allow the wonderful liquid to rest and not cool.

It was a Sunday. We only ever got 4 to 10 kids on Sundays. It was odd that I was never there for a full week, just the week ends. Well I wasn’t going to complain, left me more time to exercise.

With that thought and the coffee slowly dripping into the cup, Holly peers around the corner.

“It would be in poor form if I let you make all of our beverages, but you do make the best cup of coffee.”
“If I could show you the wonderful cups I make at home.”

“Yes, you do always tell me about your barista-y ways.”

“The thing about this coffee is that it’s too acidic, you….”

Ash comes through the door

“It’s 8 and we’re open.”

I look up at the clock, it was. There have been only two times that I have ever been this nervous. Once when I complained about mre coffee to a drill sergeant, and the other time was when I was staring down that Jinko.

“Olga, open the door.”

“M-Me, but why?”

Holly puts her hand on my shoulder “You will do just fine.”

Ash smiles as she passes me. I look back. They put the useless coffee pot back.

I walk up to the door and unlock it, opening it the processes. As it swings open, an arm grabs it, wait a pincer.

“Oh Olga, my you have changed.” The scorpion woman said her child hiding behind her other pincer.

“Please come in Mathilda and of course you Sophie.” I give my softest smile as they walk in.

Matilda picks up Sophie, “Now behave you.”

She just nods her head.

Sophie was a very shy kid. Unlike her mother. I’ve seen her unable to make it to the car without stripping when she’s with her husband, then again she was only 5. Sophie likes to play board games instead of playing house like the other kids. She hid her face under long green hair, even her tail she tried to hide.

Her mother wave bye as I bend down to greet her.
“How you doing kid?”


“Your eye patch has a bear on it.”
“Do you like it?”

“Want to play Lamias and ladders?”

My heart stopped, she used to run from me.

“I would love to.” I say, trying not to tear up.