Entry Writchal #2
Theme: Maid
Warm lights pouring through the glass window.
Gentle breeze of wind brushes your face.
Swimming in the sea of dreams, you are pulled back into reality.
Lying on a soft bed and covered in blanket, you feel your senses return to you.
After three gentle knocks on the door, the door opened.
As your senses returned, footsteps draw closer and closer.
You tilt your head in confusion, a figure stands next to you.
The figure, dressed in a black dress, white apron, and a hairband standing in front of you. Holding a glass of water on a metallic tray, she smiled.
She then lets out a powerful roar as she puffs up her purple and yellow plumage. Saliva follows the bird-like screech as it leaves her oral cavity. It should have dawned on you earlier, but you have formal reason to believe that your maid is a Velociraptor.
You reluctantly grab the tray for yourself. The creature turns back and starts sniffing the ground. Her infamous sickle claws tap on the ceramic floor. She growls and snarls at the ground as if its very being offends her. As if she’s cursing the underworld for giving her such a foul and unruly punishment. You come to my senses and realise that you need to start my morning routine. This reptilian maid might seem impractical, but your curiosity encourages me to ask her if she can cook breakfast for you. Her eyes narrow, as if her mind was overtaken by your simple request. She rushes to the kitchen with terror and grace. As she leaves, a tag falls off from her feathers. You read the tag and it said, “Here’s 20 dollars, just TAKE HER.” Your loyal servant returns to yiu with an enticing breakfast. Bacon and eggs served with a small salad. You don’t know where the 20 dollars went, but you’re not sure if you’ll need them. This overgrown turkey just cooked breakfast from thin air. It was especially impressive, because you had only bought cereal the night before. You nod in approval and she seems pleased with your happiness.
You haven’t sweeped the floor in a week and my shelves were filled to the brim with dust. Your bathrooms were so dirty you started taking less showers because you knew you wouldn’t get any cleaner. Enter your saurian servant. Within minutes, your house was free of the dust and dirt. Any small chance of a small plague evolving within your chambers was dissolved and you could do nothing but be amazed at this raptor’s efficiency. You sit down on your couch, thinking of what to do while waiting for lunch. As you grab my TV remote, the raptor jumps on your coffee table, knocking your vase and breaking it. She roars at you and flaps her wings. She grabs your TV remote and puts it back on the coffee table, then proceeds to scoop up the vase’s remains with her mouth. She throws them in the trash cans outside. You are perplexed by this behaviour, but she immediately returns with a new vase with new flowers. She also hands you a red tracksuit. Curious how the red is thicker near the collar.
You realise that your servant is suggesting you to get fit. Feeling like there aren’t any more chores to do for the weekend, you go to the local park and start jogging. You hear the sound of sirens as you continue your exercise. You wonder what the commotion might be. Nevertheless, you return home.
As you enter your front door a rotting sensation fills your olfactory bulbs. Despite how clean your home has become, the smell reeks of rotten flesh. Only for that smell to be followed by the smell of calming perfume, the sudden change was so relieving that your suspicions and thoughts were erased. You find your velociraptor friend carrying a basket of empty bottles of perfume. The smell of perfume makes you forget about the sirens you heard earlier. It appears that it’s time for lunch, but you’re drenched in sweat from your morning jog. As you enter the shower, the velociraptor in a uniform follows you. Confused, you look at her as you step further into the bathroom. She continues to step forward. It should have dawned on you earlier, but you now have formal reason to believe that this dinosaur wants to give you a bath.
You try to tell her off, but she tilts her head. You try to close the door, but she tries to get in. Your primal instincts kick in and you start shoving the dromaeosaur out of your bathroom. You successfully close the door, but as you try to lock it from the inside, she opens it again. It seems that there’s a raptor in your bathroom. While you know you’re not in any danger, a 6 foot turkey with razor sharp teeth cornering you in your own bathroom is a very terrifying experience. Your back hits the wall and you yell at her to sit down. Her eyes narrow. You calm down and you tell her to cook lunch. She leaves you alone and walks out of your bathroom. You can finally take a shower in peace.
You walk out in new clothes and sit down on the dining table. Lunch is served and you see a well cooked steak and french fries, with a side of gravy. You start chowing down on your lunch and your maid watches from the side. Usually, you’d cook yourself some instant noodles or an omelet if you’re lucky. Then, something hits. Where’s she getting all of these ingredients? You leave the dining table after you finish your food. Since you haven’t exercised in a while, your joints feel sore and you feel like it might be a good idea to lay down. You try to process what’s just happened in these past few hours. Then you hear the sounds of plates shattering. You get up from bed immediately and you rush to the kitchen. Only to find that all of your dishes have been washed. It must’ve been the wind.
You walk back to your room and you lay down. You take a moment to think about all the suspicious things that have happened today. The tag on the raptor, the sirens, the rotting smell, the luxurious food, and the dishes. You tell yourself that you’ll figure it out tomorrow, this maid’s done a lot more in a few hours than what you’ve done in a week, so it can’t be all bad. Your eyes shut and you fall asleep.
You wake up and you find that it’s 3 ‘o clock. You walk out of your room and back into your kitchen to find some snacks. Upon another glance, the dishes that have been washed aren’t your dishes. Your favourite mug is gone. Outraged, you try to find your reptilian helper. Then you look at your basement and the door is wide open. You rush down to find that familiar rotting smell. Then you find raw meat, strewn across the floor. The smell made perfect sense now. Next to you is your old TV and the news is on. It says that there has been a rampaging dinosaur in a maid outfit stealing ceramics, food, and silverware. It then says that if you’ve seen this raptor, then you should report back to the police immediately. The pieces are starting to fit together. Then you find the raptor prowling near the safe. You know exactly what’s in your safe. The deed to your house. It should have dawned on you earlier, but you now have formal reason to believe that a velociraptor in a maid outfit wants the deed to your house.
You jump the raptor and you wrestle with it to defend your home. she roars in pain as you punch her in her stupid saurian face. She claws at you and you back off. You try to order her to sit down, but it doesn’t work. She pounces at you, but you manage to dodge. She roars at you and begins to examine you. She might be rethinking its strategy, this is your chance! You run at it with full force, grabbing your old TV and smashing it on the raptor’s skull, making sure it stays a fossil. She runs back in fear and you roar at her like an enraged caveman. You run at her and you grab her by the neck and you start smashing the top of her head with your bare fists. She then starts coughing and she spits out a 20 dollar bill. She slashes you in the back with her foot and you let her go. You howl in pain and the raptor takes this opportunity to strike. She pulls out a Glock 17 and shoots you three times in the chest. The screaming stops as she cracks open the safe with her mind reading powers. You realise that if you had picked up on the signs sooner, this might not have happened. She grabs the deed to her house and takes off her outfit and lets out a final ear piercing screech.
THE END
Writer: Anonymous