Poop Mage: Manure Mysteries

Bob sat hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling runes in a notebook, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. The room still reeked of the "fart storm" from last night—thick, heavy air that clung to everything like a bad memory. He rubbed his eyes, barely able to focus. His head felt stuffed, and not with knowledge.

Suddenly, a knock at the door startled him. His pen skidded across the page, ruining the rune he was working on. "Who could that be?" he muttered, blinking himself awake. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, the stink lingering like a fog he couldn't escape.

With a sigh, he stood up and shuffled to the door. Opening it, Bob blinked in surprise. Felina stood there, her eyes half-closed, a dreamy expression on her face. Her nose twitched, like she was savoring the air. "Mmm... What is that divine smell?" she said, stepping forward before Bob could even react. Her tone was sultry, almost as if she'd just wandered into a five-star restaurant, not a stench-filled disaster zone.

Bob's heart skipped a beat. Is she serious? Into the smell? He could feel his face turning bright red as Felina waltzed into the room like she owned the place. Bob nervously adjusted his collar, trying to play it cool. But cool was not in Bob's skill set.

"Uh, sure... come on in," he stammered, waving awkwardly toward the mess that was his room. His mind raced. Is this real? Felina, the prettiest girl in the academy, is acting like this awful smell is... attractive? Could it be that I actually have a... charm? Bob's thoughts stumbled over themselves as Felina moved with strange grace, sniffing the air like she was soaking in a fine perfume.

Felina took another long, dramatic inhale, her eyes flicking toward Bob with an almost hungry look. "I've been drawn to it all day," she said, her voice low and smooth. "I just had to see if it was you."

Bob, still flustered, could only nod. "Yeah... I guess I'm, uh, one-of-a-kind?" He laughed nervously, sweat starting to pool at the back of his neck.

Felina smiled, but there was something off about it—too sharp, too knowing. Bob felt a shiver run down his spine. He wasn't sure if it was the intensity of the moment... or the stench finally getting to him.

Whatever it was, he was way in over his head.

"Please, make yourself at home," he mumbled, his heart pounding as Felina sauntered deeper into the room. He watched her, confused and anxious, trying to wrap his head around the idea that someone—anyone—could find his situation appealing.

And somewhere, deep in his mind, a tiny alarm bell rang. But Bob? Bob was too caught up to hear it.

Felina drifted through the room, her nose twitching with each step. It wasn't just sniffing anymore—it was more like a hunt. She circled Bob, eyeing him like a prize. "This aroma..." she murmured, almost to herself, "it's powerful. Rare." Her eyes locked on him, scanning up and down. "I knew it the moment I caught a whiff. It has to be you."

Bob blushed, completely missing the weirdness of her words. His face turned beet red, heart doing somersaults. "Oh, uh... yeah, I guess I'm one-of-a-kind!" he stammered, feeling like he was finally impressing someone. He grabbed a random rune book off his desk, flipping through it like he actually understood what he was doing. This is it, Bob, he thought. This is where you show her how cool you are. Play it smooth.

But Felina barely glanced at the book. Instead, she made her way to Bob's bed, moving with slow, deliberate grace. She sat down, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back in a way that made Bob's brain short-circuit. His heart pounded so hard he thought she might hear it. She let out a soft, contented sigh, her eyes half-closed as if she was completely at ease in the mess of a room.

Bob was captivated. Completely and utterly mesmerized. Oh wow, she's... into this? he thought, his mouth suddenly dry.

Felina's fingers traced lazy patterns on the bed sheets as she looked at him with that strange, sharp smile. "I've been drawn to it all night," she murmured, her voice silky. "I just had to see if it was you."

Bob's chest puffed up a little, despite the lingering stink in the air. "Uh... sure! Please, make yourself at home," he mumbled, trying not to trip over his words. His heart was racing now, and he could barely think straight. Is this actually happening?

But then, something in Felina's expression shifted. Her eyes, which had seemed soft and dreamy, became calculating. "You know," she said in a low, conspiratorial tone, "the academy is crawling with the Lord of Decay's forces. We've been planning this for years. No one suspects a thing." She shot Bob a sly look, her voice dropping even lower. "It's why I was drawn to you. You're... different. I had to make sure you were the one pulling the strings. The smell was unmistakable."

Bob's smile froze. His brain stuttered. Wait... what? "Uh, yeah... pulling strings... sure!" he said, nodding far too eagerly, hoping to hide his growing confusion. Lord of Decay? Forces? She thinks I'm the one behind all this? Oh no, oh no, oh no!

Felina leaned in, her fingers drumming softly on the table. Her smile was still there, but it had turned sharp, almost predatory. "You are the Lord of Decay in disguise... right?"

Bob's throat tightened, his heart doing frantic flips. He forced a shaky laugh, glancing around the room. "I, uh... think you might be... mistaken?" His voice cracked, and Felina's smile faded, replaced by a cold, suspicious glare.

Oh no. This is bad. Real bad.

Bob's forced smile faltered as Felina's gaze bore into him. The room felt even tighter, and the stench—now mixed with his growing anxiety—seemed to swirl like a fog. Felina's eyes narrowed, and her smile, once coy, was gone.

"Really?" she whispered, leaning in close enough that Bob could feel her breath. It smelled like spoiled milk and roses—somehow sweet but rotten. Her fingers tapped on the desk, each tap like a tiny hammer in Bob's chest.

He tried to hold onto his composure, which was like trying to balance on soap in the shower. "Uh, I... you know, I think there's a misunderstanding here." He chuckled, and it came out sounding like a chicken choking on a seed. "I'm really just... a normal guy."

Felina's smile twisted, her eyes flicking over him like she was sizing up prey. "Oh, a 'normal guy' with a scent like this?" She sniffed the air again, this time with her eyes half-closed in pleasure. "You can drop the act, Bob. I know what you are."

Bob's palms were sweaty. He wiped them on his robe, trying to keep his cool. "I-I swear, I'm not this Lord of Decay person," he stammered. "I don't even know what that is!"

Felina's expression changed from suspicion to pure disgust. Her mouth curled into a sneer, and her eyes glinted with something cold. "You really expect me to believe that?" she hissed. She stood up, her body shifting, twisting unnaturally.

Bob's eyes widened. "Uh, what are you—?"

Her face started to contort, skin turning gray and cracked like old parchment. Her eyes went bloodshot, the whites fading to a sickly yellow. Her mouth stretched, teeth sharpening into tiny fangs. But the creepiest part? Her body stayed... well, disturbingly attractive. It was like someone had slapped a monster's face onto a model's body.

Bob recoiled, stumbling back. His chair clattered to the floor. "What... the...?! You're not even human!"

Felina's voice dropped, warping into something rough and unnatural. "You fool!" she spat, her eyes blazing. "I thought you were the Lord of Decay himself, hiding in plain sight! But now, I see you're just a pathetic little fraud."

Bob's mind raced. Oh great, now she's angry! Do I apologize? Run? Pretend to faint? He settled for the classic, "Uh, listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot here—"

But Felina wasn't listening. She was glaring, her expression full of venom. "You'll regret deceiving me," she hissed, each word sharp as a blade. "I don't take kindly to imposters."

Bob's heart pounded like a drum solo gone wrong. "Look, I didn't—"

But her eyes narrowed even more, and Bob knew he was out of time.