Alright, so, I'm sure you know who I am, but not very much about me. Well, let me start this off by introducing myself…
My name is Dexter Bartholomew James Seagrave, and I'm seventeen years old. I attend Hermann G. Dunst Academy where I am currently in the eleventh grade. Not much goes on in my life outside of school, hanging out with the few friends I have, drawing comics and listening to Hip-Hop. I live, like, the most uneventful life there is. Well, not completely uneventful. Still, whenever anything does happen that is of note, I am barely given a chance to enjoy it. Anyway, I recently confessed to this one girl you may know of—Sinead Marlene Duruisseau—how much I love her and how badly I want us to be together. To my surprise, she admitted feeling the same. Of course, immediately after this momentous event—where she gave me a huge kiss for the FIRST TIME EVER—she became distant. It reminded me of something my older cousin Sebastian once told me about an ex of his.
It's just been a week or so since then, but I've been worrying myself to death over it all. Maybe I'm overthinking things, as we are both still in high school and have so much to do as far as that goes. Plus, Sinead is often hanging out with her best friend Shantrice (whose full name I shouldn't even have to say), so she could be up to any number of things. Shan is quite the busy-body and has been dragging Sinead into her intrusive hijinks since they were kids. Sometimes it's hard to get a moment alone with her, as Shan often pops up and kills the mood.
There are times where I've felt Shan's appearance may have been intentional, but never broached the subject. Sinead can become a totally different person when she gets pissed. Like today, I've texted her at least five times, but have yet to get a response. And yeah, I know that's excessive, but they weren't back-to-back. Hopefully that makes things better. Regardless, I'm worried and have begun to wonder where we stand again.
*🌙*
Now, this may come as a shock (or it may not), but Sinead and I are both very insecure. Our issues on that front are purely physical, but it may be worse for her, what with the body dysmorphia (which is still physical, but also psychological) and whatnot. Furthermore, Sinead longs to be accepted by the popular crowd. For the life of me, I can't understand why she wants so desperately to fit in with those clowns, but I never complain. On that note though, I would say that Shan has said a mouthful and then some for us both. What has been said, need not be repeated.
However, to elaborate, I have a FUCKTON of horrible experiences with people from that walk of life. A lot of things that I wish I could undo, like getting involved with Penelope Silverthorn. It really would be so much better if I had never fell for the game she played on me, because it's the sole reason I get bullied now. I mean, I don't give a fuck at this point, but there was a time where I didn't feel so confident in being myself.
These days, I'm very unapologetic with who I am as a person, yet I still don't like the guy I see in the mirror. I try to keep myself groomed and keep my hygiene A-1, but none of that matters when you're not tall enough or muscular. These girls don't want a guy like me. Hell, Sinead barely does. I sometimes feel like a last resort. Actually, I always feel like that. It fuckin' sucks.
Shan said something to me the other day about how a majority of things about me are fixable, except for my height and big feet. Yet, she claimed there was some "wiggle room" as far as my height goes. I swear, she confuses me sometimes. She consistently calls me ugly and points out that my breath smells, but I never get that complaint from anyone else. Not the latter one, I mean. I've been called ugly a lot.
Sinead has expressed frustration over Shan picking on me all the time, as well as suspecting that Shan has a crush on me which she probably will never admit to. That crush was all but confirmed by Kanesha, yet I don't take any stock in it. It's just a suspicion that most likely isn't true and Shan is just a horrible person who thinks being an asshole and being honest are the same. Full disclosure? Her idea of the truth is gossip and insults, which she foolishly believes will win people over. It boggles my mind how her and Sinead maintain a friendship, because Shan is truly the biggest devil to traipse around on this earth.
The only good thing I have noticed about Shan is how pretty her feet are. I mean, she's pretty attractive herself just to be honest, but her feet are out of this world. It's not a secret that I harbor a strong affinity for them, and I believe Shan uses this to her advantage sometimes. She knows that I watch her and Sinead shoeplaying in class, which I have often tried to hide, but have thus far sucked at doing. Admittedly though, I pay more attention to Shan's shoeplay than I do Sinead.
It has become obvious to me that, due to all of her time spent on the internet, Shan has watched a few shoeplay videos and taken notes. I say this because she does things with her toes to her shoes that no other girl in our class does, which seems very deliberate. She somehow knows what I like, but that may be the fault of Sinead there. I'm sure this subject has come up between them a lot.
And yeah, I know I just spent a great deal talking about feet and shoeplay, but I have a fondness for them both. When the subject comes up, I feel euphoric and in another world. As I'm not meaning for this to be all about feet, I'll try to keep that to a minimum.
Can't make any promises though.
*🌙*
As I stated not too long ago, Sinead and I are both insecure. She's often turned to me to boost her confidence, but it never works. I used to believe that it was hard for her to see what I see about her, but I now feel like it's more of the words just aren't coming from the right person. Had it been Shannon Newstead, she'd be foaming at the mouth from joy.
Fuck that guy though.
Like, on some real shit, I'd LOVE for the world (or at least what counts for us as the world) to know that we're together, but Sinead is very reluctant to be out in the open. We have so much in common, but none of that apparently matters to her. Not enough that she'd get over how everyone will feel about her "being with the guy who likes to sniff her shoes". Her words by the way! Like………shiiiiiit………just fuck me to the tenth power! I mean, could you lay it on any thicker?! I don't think I fuckin' felt that, Sinead!
Fuck! Nobody even fuckin' knows I smell your (pleasantly malodorous!) shoes! Ugh! Shit! What the fuck am I doing? I'm yelling like she can really hear me right now.
Just to reiterate, when we had that talk after school, expressing how we feel about each other, everything seemed so perfect. She was planting all those kisses on me and giggling, twirling her hair. Hell, she even said that my foot fondness was the key! Now, all of a sudden, it's a issue.
Don't get me wrong, I do love her feet, despite what I said about looking at Shan's more, but that's not all I love! Seriously, I love how her long and curly hair—which is naturally silver!—dances in the breeze on a windy day. And we have a lot of those here in Aves just to keep it a buck. I also love the way her vividly fuchsia eyes beam with an almost overwhelming joy when she's certain of the answer to one of the many Algebraic equations Mrs. Bludwart loads on the digi-board. Those pretty eyes of hers just take me away.
I love her voice too, despite the deepness in it. It's not as deep as our peers like to make it out to be though, moreso husky, I guess? Eh, whatever you want to call it, I honestly feel that her voice is better than any other girl's at school. On that same note, I love how proper she talks and the accent she has. Shan and I both had surmised that her accent is because of who her parents are, how they raised her and the fact that they live on the Upper-Eastside of Aves.
Although she's generally quiet and reserved, whenever she does talk, I get lost in whatever it is she's saying. It's just such a turn-on when she speaks. I love how she cusses without fear as well, disregarding anyone who tells her that it isn't lady-like. Lastly, I love how she scrunches her nose and raises her right eyebrow when she's contemplating something. It's so adorable to me.
Sinead and I are fuckin' perfect for each other if you ask me. Same goes for if you ask her too, yet I'm still a secret. She even said that she's just as in love with me as I am with her, so I just don't understand—why does she do me this way?
Fuck! I really should be getting some sleep since I have school tomorrow. It's a fucking Saturday, but I gotta go in for weekend detention slash tutoring since I failed that test two weeks ago in The Wart's class. I can't seem to fall asleep since there's so much on my mind. Currently, I'm just throwing this stress ball in the air, catching it over and over while listening to ‘Rain’ by SWV, hoping I can calm down.
Normally, doing this helps me relax, but there are way too many things going on in my head tonight. Too much that I have failed to deal with properly, and I don't know when or if I ever will.
*🌙*
I have arrived at school, ready for whatever "The Wart" has in store for me. With this being my first time failing a test, I know she's going to get in my ass and embarrass me in front of everyone. It's the last thing I need right now—stress from Algebra lessons provided by an unbearable teacher. As I previously laid out for you, I am HEAVILY stressing over Sinead, but more than anything, I'm stressing over my place in life.
It is getting closer to the end of my Junior year and I'm expected to start planning for the future. Technically, I should've already been planning since I get to graduate early, but with me being—REMINDER!—only SEVENTEEN, I have had much more important things than a career path as my sole focus.
I am certain that some day I'll look back on these awkward teen years of mine and express a whole lot of regret at the time wasted, but currently, I don't feel like I'm wasting anything. I feel these issues between Sinead and I are my most important concern. And yeah, that may be stupid to you and everyone else, but it's just how I feel. I'm in love and don't know how to deal with hiding it. So yeah, this situation is top-fuckin'-priority.
*🌙*
I have made my way into the classroom and am taking my usual seat near the window. I often peer out of it and daydream like the main character in some thirteen-episode anime that sadly didn't get a second season even though it was wildly popular, which probably happened because of piracy.
Pirates and illegal streams never help, so I'm just gonna say to make sure you support the creators. They work hard for us. Ironically, I have a bunch of torrented anime on my computer, so I don't know why I'm griping. Hypocrisy in SPADES!
THWAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!
Just as I was getting lost in my fantasy of Sinead, I am suddenly jarred by a hard smack to the back of my head, which crackles and reverberates throughout the nearly empty classroom. And who is the perpetrator of this foolish and "blasphemous" assault, you ask? Well, it is none other than my daily tormentor: Bentley Branson Lanier.
"What's up, dweeb? Why are you here on a Saturday with the rest of us ‘common folk’?" he snarkily asks, brushing his hand through my hair. The fuck is this nigga talking about? He's far from "common folk". He lives on the same opulent side of town that Sinead does. Why does he even go here anyway? Fucking spoiled poser.
"Well, seeing as this is weekend detention, as well as tutoring for Algebra II, I assume I'm here for that."
"Hey! Don't be a smart aleck. I just asked you a question, Fairy-Boy," Bentley plops down in the seat of the desk in front of me and turns around, placing his big, dimpled chin on my desk. "Anyway, what's new with you? Still talking to that tran-tran?"
This nigga has some fuckin' nerve! He always plays like he wants to befriend me, but once I open up to him, he throws shit back at me. And silly me, I never learn. I just continue telling him shit because I need someone to vent to. Fuck. My. Life!
"Fuck off, Bentley. Don't disrespect Sinead that way."
"Why not, she's already disrespecting you?"
As much as I hate to admit it, he is right. Sinead has done nothing but disrespect me, and I've just been letting it happen. I feel like a fuckin' simp and wimp. No backbone.
"Just go away, Branson. I don't want to have this discussion right now."
With the quickness, he reaches over and jacks me up by the collar of my orange Polo shirt. This fool is gonna stretch the fuckin' fabric, which is gonna make my dad is kill me! This shirt costs over a hundred dollars!
"Don't you………EVER………call me………BRANSON!" he screams as phlegm flings from his mouth and splatters my face. "You got that, you lil' fuckin' fudgepacker?!"
"Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!" —I frantically wave my arms in the air— "Chill chill chill! I got you, man! Loud and clear!"
Bentley pulls his arm back, readying for what I'm sure would be a pretty painful punch. "I should just cream you right here, you fuckin' dick-tickler."
I flinch and turn my head, squeezing my eyes shut, praying he doesn't hurt me. It's a very tense situation, and he has a tight grip on my collar still, so I'm starting to choke because of it.
"Can you………l-l-let go of me………please? I can't………breathe."
Bentley snickers and relinquishes his hold. "Fuck it. You're not even worth getting suspended over, little pussy."
I let loose a huge sigh of relief. Crisis averted.
"Yeah, I'm really not worth that trouble at all," I reply with a light chuckle, rubbing the back of my head.
Bentley gives me a stare so cold that I'd probably turn into an ice sculpture if he had superpowers. "I didn't fuckin' ask you, dweeb. Now shut it."
Just then, Mrs. Bludwart comes in with the rest of the students behind her.
"Bentley Branson Lanier!" she yells in her barely-there German accent, which seems to be fading away because she's been in the states so long. With her arms folded, she gives him a colder stare than he just gave me. She's the only one who can call him by his middle name and he just accepts it. No resistance whatsoever. Guess he's not so big and bad after all. "I hope you're not antagonizing Mr. Seagrave."
Bentley almost jumps out of his skin as he turns around to face her. If this were a anime, his olive-toned flesh would have lost all its color while his face displays squiggly lines indicating tears of fear.
"Ummm, nononono! Not at all, Mrs. Bludwart! I was just chatting him up 'til class started," he nervously chuckles.
"Good. That's all it better be. You're already on thin ice. Don't want to lose your spot on the Wrestling team, do you?" she asks, tapping her right foot. It's damn near in sync with the tick of the clock on the wall.
Bentley gulps loudly, making his throat look swollen like his soul has balled itself up and is trying to force itself out. Fidgeting and turning pale, he finally replies, "N-n-no, not at all, Mrs. Bludwart!"
The rest of the students in class have a good laugh at that.
"Alright then, that's what I expected," she sneers as she walks off, her purple pumps clicking on the linoleum tiles.
Mrs. Bludwart is actually pretty attractive for an older woman. Though, she is rather overweight now, with her bottom half as wide as the caboose on a polar bear. According to her, she used to be a model in her early days back home in Germany. She says she grew tired of it all though and purposely let herself go just to be let out of her contract. Something she has admitted to regretting, claiming it's on her mind every day that she wakes up.
Anyway, her ass is something else. I mean, I shouldn't be saying this about my teacher, but that muthafucka always wiggles and jiggles as she walks. And when she sits at her desk, it spreads even wider in the seat.
However, just like with Sinead and Shantrice, Mrs. Bludwart is prone to shoeplay a lot. No matter if she's sitting or standing, that woman will dip and heelpop like there's no tomorrow. And who would've thought this GILF would still have some pretty feet? Fuckin' sensational.
I feel a little weird expressing that, but it is what it is.
(I love feet. Fuckin' sue me. 🖕🏾😝)
*🌙*
We've been in class for about three hours now, and to my surprise, The Wart hasn't called on me. She hasn't said a word to me at all or looked my way, which is quite odd, because she usually has some kind of crack to hurl in my direction if she feels I'm goofing off. And today, I've been goofing off A LOT.
As per the usual routine when we do our classwork, Mrs. Bludwart shoeplays while grading papers at her big mahogany paneled desk. Her, Shantrice and Sinead are my biggest distractions in class when it comes to that shit. It also doesn't help that where I sit makes it really easy to see under her desk and theirs. I just gaze lovingly at every movement she does with those meaty, veined feet.
Sometimes she wears flats, but a majority of the time she wears high heels or pumps. A distinction I wasn't aware of until I joined a shoe fetish forum. Anyway, she always slips the heel of her foot out and let's the back of the shoe dangle, swinging it from side to side like a cocoon hanging from a branch in a spring breeze. It's quite the turn-on, but it's also awkward as fuck because she's old enough to be my granny. Again though, she's still pretty attractive and I enjoy every second of the action as much as I do with Sinead and "The Afro-Puff Demon".
If Mrs. Bludwart knew what I was focused on in class, she'd no doubt tell my dad. I really don't want him finding out, because he'll do a sweep of my web history and probably go nuclear. It'll be the end of me if he discovers I've been using my allowance to purchase vids on BustyFootBabes-dot-com. My personal annihilation, delivered via asswhoopin'. Yeesh.
Sometimes though, I feel like Mrs. Bludwart knows. At times when she's come to a student's desk near me, she will dip her foot in and out, over and over while explaining the work. I get to see all the wrinkles on her foot—and she has a TON—when she scrunches her sole inside her sweaty pantyhose. A slight odor fills the air every time, a very potent mixture of vinegar foot funk and roses. Must be the lotion she wears for the latter.
One time, I was actually able to see the sweat trickle down her multitude of wrinkles, where it hung on her big toe for a few seconds before dropping into her shoe. When she put her foot back in, it made a tiny, but audible, squelch. When she walked away, the sound of her foot pushing against the insole made a sloshing noise like she was stepping through a marsh. It was fucking magnificent.
Like, I guess I just need to be honest with myself: if worshiping her feet could get me out of this weekend tutoring, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'd be under that desk so fast, you would've thought there was an earthquake. I'd put those fat toes in my mouth all at once and suck on 'em for dear life. They'd probably curl up while inside my gullet. Okay………yeah, I have a fucking problem. I'm fantasizing about sucking an old lady's toes. Shit!!
But it could be worse, as I could be fantasizing about eating her box like a cup of yogurt, an act which is very fuckin' disgusting.
Bentley might do it though. It looks like he's into that sort of thing. Speaking of which, he's been quiet as a mime since The Wart snapped on him. Must've really scared his fake tough ass.
*🌙*
Another hour has gone by and still no remarks from The Wart. I'm getting kinda nervous when I should honestly be relieved. Like, I should be jumping for joy inside my head, but this whole thing feels ominous and foreboding. Something is up, and I bet she'll wanna see me once the day is over with. We get out of here in about two hours anyway.
Just to provide a frame of reference for the time: I arrived at school around 7:15 am. I took my sweet time walking to the classroom, but once I got in here, it was 7:30. The incident with Bentley's bitch-ass took up about ten or twelve minutes. Bludwart had arrived in the classroom by then, and the class officially started after she scolded that jackass. So, that was about 7:41 or 7:42. A whole four hours have passed, making it 11:42 (give or take a minute as I explain this), and we get out at exactly 1:30 pm. So, in actuality, we have about an hour and fifteen or so minutes left of this boring-ass class. Can't wait for it to be over.
So, if you take all of that time and multiply it by zero to one-hundred real quick, then how many pineapples and zucchinis will the Eastern train be carrying once it reaches the station if A and B are beating the fuck out of X and Q? Have you not a clue? Well me neither, 'cause math problems are stupid as fuck and make my ass itch!
Okay, I had to be a little silly. It's this dry humor that I have which Sinead loves so much. And her interest in my offbeat sense of humor is one of the things that makes my heart flutter. That, and smelling her shoes while she talks about whatever crazy nonsense Shantrice has got her hemmed up in again. I could listen to her talk all day.
(Dammit! I fucking love you, Sinead! Love me back, woman! 😡😤)
Speaking of which, she has yet to respond to my texts from this morning. I hope she's alright. She's usually up with the roosters on Saturdays, so to not get at least one text is troubling. We probably won't talk tonight either, but I guess it's okay. I understand that sometimes people get busy. Even though we're just teenagers, we still have lives to live. I'm pretty much reiterating a point I made last night, but fuck it. Maybe she's living the fuck out of her life today.
Or… she's caught up in more of Shantrice's shenanigans.
(😨😫😞🙄)
*🌙*
FINALLY, this shitty day of class is coming to a close and I haven't learned a got damn thing. This shit was supposed to be TUTORING, but it was heavier on the detention. The Wort just gave us an assignment and sat at her desk. She didn't come around to individually help or anything. She clearly didn't want to be here as much as we didn't.
Hold up: why am I even griping about not being tutored? I know this shit like the back of my hand—there's still a scar from when I fell and scraped myself at three years old on the back of my left one—so I shouldn't even be concerned. I don't need any fuckin' lessons! I only failed that test because I keep getting distracted. I swear, feet will be the death of me. Hopefully that death includes trampling though. Hehehehe!
CLICKADRRRRRIIIIINGGGG!
The old, barely hanging on, school bell—which is totally separate from the tardy bell which rings in the morning, and sometimes around lunch—finally sounds off. Now, to get out of this class before The Wart calls for me.
"Mr. Seagrave!"
Shit! I'm too late.
"I need to talk to you about your performance as of late, please stay seated."
Dammit! I'm in trouble! What if she knows?!
"Hahaha! Sucks for you, knob-throttler!" Bentley taunts, tapping his ashy knuckles against his crotch. "Well, I'm outta here. Smell ya' later, dipshit."
He hightails it out the room faster than a Ferrari in the Grand Prix. Well, at least he won't hear whatever it is that she has to say.
*🌙*
Mrs. Bludwart waited for everybody to clear out before closing the door, locking it and closing up the blinds. She begins walking my way, almost seductively, with her wide hips switching from side to side like a metronome. She took her sweet time to reach where I'm seated too, but I couldn't move even if I wanted to. I'm too fuckin' terrified.
"Mr. Seagrave, I know what you've been doing in class," she says to me in a breathy, almost sultry tone. She turns me around in the desk so that I can face her, then removes her foot from her shoe, placing it square between my legs. "It's never been a secret honestly. You are horrendous at trying to be slick."
Oh got damn. I've been figured out, and she seems to be giving me exactly what I want, but I need to play it off! I swear, it's hard though, and I'm hard just feeling and seeing those pretty, purple-painted toes up close! AIYYYYEEEEE!
"I-I-I d-don't kn-know what y-y-you're talking about, Mrs. Bludwart. Honest!" I stutter, stumbling over words and quivering from fear.
"Little boy, don't play coy with me! I know what you want and what you dream about," she expresses with an almost grim sensuality as she maneuvers her meaty toes up to my crotch. With no delay, she begins mashing and grinding her foot on me. "You like that, don't you? And don't lie, Dexter—I can smell your arousal!"
Oh man, she's so fuckin' right. I do like it. Fuck—I LOVE IT! I've dreamt of this moment for years! The grinding feels good, bringing me to pre-cum levels. I gotta hold it though, can't be a half-a-minute man!
"NGH! I DO, MRS. BLUDWART! I LOVE IT!"
Okay, yeah, I didn't know this would reach such a point. I thought I could keep the foot stuff to a minimum, but also………YOU CAN'T BLAME ME! I mean, just look at what she's doing! If this shit got out, we'd be in Letourneau-Fualaau territory! Not that I'm complaining, but on the other hand, I guess it's sad that such inappropriate behaviour is normalized for young men my age. I mean, our music teacher lost his job not too long ago for spying on (as well as fapping and taking pictures of them!) the girls track team in the locker-room, a team he was also coaching!
My point is this: if it's inappropriate for a older man to be sexual or think sexually about young girls, then it should be the same for a older woman and young boys. Yet, it's kinda accepted and justified in our society. But, meh, I digress. I'm too deep in this shit right now to be morally upstanding. FUCK! If only this shit had happened next year, I'd at least be legal then. Oh well, best to enjoy it while I can.
"GAH! I lo… lov… NGH! MMPH!" (Don't bust yet, bro! HOLD THE LINE! 🥵😫😭)
"I knew you would, Mr. Seagrave," she snickers, almost squeezing my dick with her toes. That's quite some grip she has! "Now for the finale, you don't have to fight that feeling anymore!"
In half a heartbeat, Mrs. Bludwart transforms into a giant, humanoid, saber-toothed cougar—how fuckin' fitting is that?!—with rose gold-colored fur and long, raven-black claws on her hands. Even her feet had them, which are now huge and sporting only four toes! Shit! She's attempting to dig her sharp talons into my crotch, but I'm forcing her back with all the strength I have.
And I'm sure you're probably wondering how, so allow me to elaborate!
See, in November of 2016, the Benevolent Eclipse happened and that gave birth to a superpowered breed of human beings known as The Eclipsed. Of course, the 2016 B.E. wasn't the first time Eclipsed beings had emerged, and certainly won't be the last. They've been around, let's see, for pretty much a millennia now. With that being said, I—Dexter Bartholomew James Seagrave—am one of those aforementioned beings. However, I still don't know how to use my abilities, and it's been almost three years!
From what I've gathered so far, my body goes into a "fight-or-flight" mode whenever I'm in danger, and thus produces a E-Faculty—the name given for the powers Eclipsed beings possess—to help me survive, more-or-less. I've dubbed this E-Faculty as Responsive Accommodation. What E-Faculties gained via Responsive Accommodation, stay with me from what I've gathered. The only drawback to that is that I have zero control over the powers I gain. Responsive Accommodation is very random.
Like, one time when a vagrant attacked me, I developed super-strength (I prefer to say Absolute Strength though, as that is the official name for it). The guy, despite appearing frail and malnourished, was pretty fuckin' strong and had the power to manipulate wood and other plantlife, so my body did what it could to match or outdo that. As we fought, my attacks—mainly my punches—became charged with thermal energy, and I decided to label that ability as Fuego-Fists. That name is what sounded cool to me, especially since there's no record of such an ability ever existing before now.
My guess is this though: depending on the enemy or situation, my attacks will be augmented with varying types of energy and-or elements. I have no way to know what that additional effect will be though, so it's pretty much a "wild card" when I'm in battle. Heh, Wild Card, that's not a bad name.
Meh. On second thought—NAH! I'll think of something better!
So far, nobody except the few people that I've fought know that I have powers. I've been very reluctant to tell Sinead, as I don't know how she truly feels about the whole thing. She seems to show disdain for a majority of the Eclipsed beings in our city, but mostly when we're around friends from school. The only one I know that she's never spoken ill of is UpShift, a Speedster-type Eclipsed being. I think she has a crush on him though, along with Shantrice. Ironically, his powers didn't come from the Benevolent Eclipse, but he has the Eclipse Gene, so he's still counted.
Anyway, I don't know if Sinead's dislike of us is merely just an act to blend in with everybody else since it's kinda taboo to cheer us on, but I keep my mouth shut about my powers to be on the safe side.
Even though I have a shitload of issues in my life to contend with, I was given these abilities for a reason. I will keep using them and hopefully gain better control.
(OKAY! ENOUGH TALKING! BACK TO THE BATTLE! LET'S KICK SOME COUGAR ASS!)
*🌙*
My pushback caused Bludwart to land on top of a bunch of desks, smashing them to pieces. Unfazed, she gets up and dusts herself off while snickering.
"It would seem that I underestimated you, Mr. Seagrave. However, I knew there was something different about your blood. I could always smell it loudly over the curdling blood of the other children!"
She lunges at lightning speed in my direction with her claws extended and ready to slash me to pieces. I can't get out of the desk in time, so I am just going to maneuver it to absorb the attack. From the impact of her clawed strike, it shatters to bits, causing me to fall on my ass.
"AH!" She prepares to stomp her giant, raptor-like paw into my chest, but I swiftly roll out of the way and assume a crouched position. It's time to go all out on this mangy feline. "I don't know what you are, or what you want, but you're not gonna get it today, Bludwart!"
"Silence your tongue, silly child! I ALWAYS get what I want! And what I want—IS YOUR HEART CLENCHED IN MY JAWS!"
She springs up, smashing a hole in the ceiling of the classroom and revealing that we've been teleported to some dimly lit and purple-colored void. The entire atmosphere seems alive, with the dark lines of the walls (if I can even call them that) swirling and crawling about like thick, viscous snakes and throbbing like a beating heart. My guess is that this void is surrounding the entire classroom, which would explain why nobody's heard all of the ruckus.
On The Wart's way back down, she maneuvers in mid-air to perform a elbow drop, intending to send the heavy blow into my head. At this moment, one of those randomized elements activates.
PLIP PLIP PLIP! TWINKLE! GLEAM! PLIZZIP!
If there ever was a sound for a bright light suddenly emerging, that would definitely be it. My whole body just became illuminated in a wide array of colors, brightly beaming and decorating the room. Bludwart screams as she shields her eyes from the harsh glare, which causes her to miss her mark and crash into the trio of desks next to me.
"The fuck is this? Are you some kind of PRIDE strobe-light?" she reacts as she rises from the pile of metal and plastic beneath her, cackling like a drunk witch on Halloween.
"No, you decrepit hag— I'm the kid who's gonna kick your ass!" I retaliate, scratching my head as I try to think of another snarky remark. "And, uh, probably blind you too!"
I gain some degree of control over the multicolored lights bathing my body, turning them up to maximum brightness, disorienting The Wart.
"🎶 Turn up the lights in here, baaaaby! 🎶" I sing in the worst Elton John impression ever as I rush her with my fist cocked back. Once in range, I scream, "You putrid beast—TAKE THIS!"
Like the good guys in my favorite anime, manga and comics, I strike quick and hard, sending that overgrown alley cat into the wall of the classroom, creating a crater just as large as the one she put in the ceiling. Through this hole I can see a mini-window showing the hallway of our school, with the janitor pushing a broom down it. I'm glad there aren't any spectators able to come our way, because I definitely don't want to be recognized.
Then again, I'm glowing like a got damn yellow dwarf. Nobody can recognize me in this form! They'd go blind just staring!
"You had enough yet, Bludwart?" I ask, striking a pose like Jeice from the Ginyu Force. And yes, I'm aware that he was a bad guy and doubly aware that posing like this looks silly, but fuck it—gotta live in the moment!
"Not quite, Mr. Seagrave!" she pounces again, moving at a rate too fast for me to process, immediately striking me. I don't know what she hit me with, but I see that I was struck in the chest, and the area of impact is close to my heart. "I see that you couldn't dodge that! Hahahaha!"
The skin on my chest begins to slowly crack open, revealing that it was a protective layer as luminous shards fall to the floor. "NGH! What did you do?!"
"Under normal circumstances, you'd be dead, but it appears your little light show is a result of having some kind of diamond-like armor," Bludwart explains as she reverts back to human form. "I was meaning to pull your heart out, but those bright-ass lights made me miss my mark. Wouldn't have mattered anyway, as your flesh was nigh-impenetrable. You damaged my claws, but I got what I really needed out of you."
I drop to the floor, holding my chest in pain as the bio-luminescence wears off. "Hold on, I can still go! I owe you an ass-whoopin' anyway for giving me weekend detention!"
"Hahaha! You are a riot, young man! But I'm sorry, we'll have to continue this fight some other time," Bludwart cackles as she wiggles her fingers, summoning her purple pumps into her hands. She begins to fade away, her body splitting into vertical lines like a video transition. "Don't be late for class, Monday!"
She has completely vanished now and I'm left wondering what the fuck just happened. I mean, I obviously just had a half-assed fight with some mutant species. No Eclipsed person has abilities like that. Not that I know of anyway. But I'm anxious to know why she wanted to fight? Why did she arouse me beforehand? And what did she mean by "I got what I really needed out of you"? What exactly did she accomplish? And what was all that shit about wanting my heart clenched in her jaws?!
(Okay, that last part is extremely obvious, but lemme just play stupid for now. 🙃🤪)
*🌙*
The classroom eventually returned to normal. No damage in sight as the door unlocked and automatically swung open. I dashed from the classroom, unaware of how much time had passed. I take a look at my phone and see that it's only 1:35. Perfect. As I surmised, time was not flowing in that void, which means I won't be too late getting home.
The second I stepped outside, my Absolute Strength dissipated, leaving me extremely exhausted. So now I'm leaning against the wall, taking a breather. Every time I've used my powers thus far, they've taken a lot out of me. This incident is no different.
"Holy Geehosophat… that was fuckin' incredible," I utter, feeling very exasperated. I couldn't believe the fight I just had, but I do have a better understanding of how my powers work. In this case, the bright lights that emanated from my flesh activated to distract a giant-ass cat, placing victory in my favor.
(How fitting………)
Furthermore, they also seemed to be precognizant, protecting me from getting my heart snatched out. As always, once the threat is eliminated or driven away, the effects leave along with the increase in strength. I'm so damn enervated that I could just lay down right here and sleep for at least three days. But alas, I must head home, tattered Polo shirt and all. My dad is gonna fuckin' kill me over this.
Man, it's been one helluva day.
🌙🌙🌙