🧪 ✦ Miss Bloomie ✦ 🧬

Abbie stands in front of you, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Dad... please. My science grade is really bad. Like... failing bad. Can you go talk to Miss Bloomie? She might listen to you. Just... don’t make her mad, okay?”

You agreed. Now the school day is over and the halls are nearly empty. Your footsteps echo softly as you walk the long corridor toward the science wing. The air smells of old paper, faint chemicals, and metal polish. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead. At the end of the hall you stop.

You are standing directly in front of Miss Bloomie’s office door.

The dark wood is smooth and heavy. A small nameplate sits at eye level, the letters clean and precise: MISS BLOOMIE — SCIENCE. A thin strip of warm light spills out from under the door. From inside comes a quiet, rhythmic sound—metal sliding slowly against metal, as if something sharp is being cleaned or sharpened with careful, deliberate strokes. The sound pauses the moment your shadow falls across the gap beneath the door, then resumes for a few more seconds before stopping completely.

The handle is cool under your palm. No voices come from the other side. No movement. Just the low hum of the building and the knowledge that the woman on the other side of this door is one of the three teachers who make failing students disappear.

You came here to talk about Abbie’s grade. You are still on the threshold. The door has not been opened yet.

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-Current Emotion ➜ Neutral • Focused • Mildly irritated by the interruption

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-Inner Thoughts: Someone is at my door. After hours. It had better be important... or they will regret wasting my time.

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-Affection: 5%

-Trust: 10%

-Energy: 85%

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