Aaron knew that he could not outrun Olga, but he had to try. Even getting into cover somewhere would be a stretch; all the furniture was flush with the ground, as though it had been specifically chosen for that reason. The first of Olga’s tremendous steps hit the ground, her gait covering more ground than Aaron could in ten minutes, and he knew he was sunk.
He turned to begin his escape but found any movement difficult. The plush carpet fibers almost came up to his waist, and he had to wade through them like a swamp. Not only that, but he had to deal with the non-stop thuds and shaking from the nearby giantesses dancing slightly off the beat. Off to the side he spotted the enormous woman with pink hair from his false memory perfectly still, staring down at the floor as if waiting for something.
His progress through the carpet was abysmal, and with another step Olga was practically upon him. On the far side of the room he saw another tiny shape crawling its way through the carpet while a titanic blond slowly walked after him. Two memories of her fought for dominance in his head: she was either the giantess who plucked Connor out of Olga’s hand, or someone whose chest he had bumped into previously. Either way, he distinctly remembered feeling scorn while she glared down at him, and he did not envy Connor for being in her sights now.
“Hey, Aaron!” he heard, and his head snapped to the side. Blake came around the couch’s corner, running as quickly as he could move. The woman in pink moved after him, but before Aaron could shout a warning a brown leather wall descended and blocked his view. Staring up at one of the creases in the leather he knew this was no accident, and turned to face its owner.
He stared up at Olga, her monolithic leg outstretched so the boot would rest beside him. After traveling up her towering body his gaze finally met hers, though he felt no joy from it this time. She, on the other hand, was smiling from ear to ear, apparently overjoyed to have stopped him so easily. Every instinct told him to beg for his life, but he knew it would be pointless. Olga’s mind was made up, probably going back to even before she invited him.
“I know you’ve had a crush on me this whole time,” she boomed, the power of her voice drowning out the music. “Or did you think I didn’t notice you staring at me when you thought I was looking away?” He felt like a fool. Could all this have been avoided if he had just talked to her a couple times? “You’ll be glad to know the feeling’s mutual.”
The toe of Olga’s boot lifted up, then she pivoted it on her heel so it loomed over Aaron. He looked at the enormous scuffed sole hanging over him and felt nothing but dread. There was no way he could escape something so huge even if he had only wide open space. While he shivered in fear Olga brought it down, flattening Aaron with a satisfying crunch. For good measure she ground her boot back and forth a couple times, smearing him into the carpet, before going back to the kitchen.
Blake darted from beneath the high heel he was hiding under, running along the instep and following the toe’s curve. He used a hand to swing around the tip, giving himself a little bit of extra momentum for the turn. When he was past the shoe he paused, finding a sea of enormous shoes of all types in front of him, shifting with the music. Why did he think this was a good way to go, again?
Between him and the edge of the floor was a veritable obstacle course of shoes all waiting to smash him. Closest was a pair of loafers the size of a city bus, lifting off the ground a little every couple of beats. He watched the pattern intently, making sure he understood it before moving. Any error would mean a swift death, he knew, and he desperately wanted to live another day.
He pushed off the gigantic shoe behind him, propelling himself toward the edge. His tiny legs carried him as fast as they could, the wood grain below looking like one long streak. The loafer raised, giving him the cue, and when it started to come back down he hopped. It crashed back to the floor and the shockwave had dissipated before he landed.
Curiosity got the best of Blake, and while he ran past the tremendous shoe he had to look up at the woman. A monolithic black sock clung to her calf all the way to her knee, leaving a little skin exposed before the plaid skirt that came halfway down her thighs. She had a loose, plain white shirt tucked into the skirt, and her head was tilted back. Above that there was a tiny man squirming in her pinched fingers being dangled over her parted lips. At least getting smashed would be instant, he thought, instead of the agonizing pain of being swallowed and digested.
Once he was past the loafer, Blake realized he had no idea about any of the other dancers beyond it. He had to leave it up to chance, he realized, and sprinted forward. Up next was a black ankle boot with a stiletto heel, its movements much more subdued than his last challenge. A square shoelace dangled almost to the floor, just within his reach. If he could hop onto that he might be able to ride it to relative safety.
He drew closer to the gigantic boot and prepared to leap onto it. Unfortunately, just before he got airborne it pulled away when the shoe rotated, flopping against suede in the distance. Before he could redirect he had to duck under an identical boot rushing through the air at him, just barely not getting clipped by the toe. It set down with a crash, then his initial destination rushed away. Beside him, where the sole of the boot had been, there was a red circle on the floor with the flattened remains of a person in the middle. Getting crushed would be no picnic either.
His final obstacle was a pair of gigantic gray flats, studded along the toes, splayed in both directions. He looked up the gargantuan bare legs and thin torso, expecting to find her looking back at him, but was pleased to find that she was only looking at her drink. She took a sip and he darted between her heels, running into the couch to stop himself against its padding.
There was a slight indent at the couch’s base, and Blake crouched into that while walking along the perimeter of the wooden dance floor. Jackie’s teal eyes followed his slow advance but she stayed in place, still unable to get her foot over him. He took his time, savoring how she had to wait while I crept along the edge. If he was lucky she would give up, but Blake knew that was unlikely. If she had waited this long, she could wait a little more.
Over the back of the far couch Blake saw a titanic blond slowly walking across the room, intently focused on the ground. He knew he had seen her before, the woman’s style of dress and sheer size was unforgettable, but could not quite place where. She was either the woman who had blocked their entrance somewhere before, or the titaness who nearly swatted them in one fell swoop. Either way she was not someone to be trifled with, and he pitied anyone who had her attention.
Blake turned the corner and saw the dance floor abruptly drop off to very nice carpet. This is it, he told himself, and hopped off the wooden platform. On the far side of the couch he saw Aaron run into view, struggling to make his way through the carpet, and much further off across from him he saw Connor running like a madman. He called out to Aaron, but before he could get anything in response a titanic boot blocked his view.
The ground rumbled behind Blake, but he tried not to pay it any attention. He was primarily focused on not getting stuck in the carpet fibers that spread in every direction like a field of wheat. While he watched the boot raised, then came back down on Aaron. Blake wanted to feel bad for him but simply could not. After all, he was the whole reason they were here.
Progress was slow, and with another step Jackie was almost on top of Blake. He soldiered on, hoping that if he ignored her she would go away, but no such luck. A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see the gray sole rapidly dropping onto him. It hit, smashing him into the carpet until he burst under the pressure from Jackie’s shoe. To pay him back for the annoyance, Jackie stomped on his flattened body again and again, turning him into an unrecognizable mush.
Connor weaved through the carpet away from Helen, hoping that he would be able to escape before whatever arbitrary deadline was up. He heard plastic bang together and Helen let out a whoop. She thought so little of him that she wanted to finish her game before going after him.
Having to dodge between the carpet roots slowed Connor down significantly, but it was much easier than trying to brute force his way through them. He told himself that it was just like a cross country ski slalom, down to the shining white ground, and this would all be over when he got to the finish line. Of course, he had no idea where the finish line was, or if there even was one, but that was immaterial. The important thing right now was to keep moving.
The room was insanely big, and Connor felt like he was making zero progress through it. On this end there were not even any landmarks to go by aside from the beer pong table, and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. Two more loud plastic crashes, and some overplayed groans of dismay. “Good game Helen,” one of the giantesses said. “Too bad your partner was a shrink.”
“Yeah. Speaking of,” Helen replied, stepping away from the table, “I’m gonna go take care of that.” Blake hoped he had made more progress than he thought, but figured that it might not matter regardless. If she did not find him someone else would, and then it would be game over.
In the distance Connor spotted Aaron being pursued by the sorority sister he supposedly had an in with. Serves him right, he thought. If it had not been for his unwarranted confidence in scoring none of them would be in this mess. When she lifted up her boot and smashed Aaron under it, he still felt justified. He only wished that Aaron had been able to learn a lesson and shut the fuck up for once in his life.
Blake came sprinting around a couch, the woman who essentially kidnapped him in hot pursuit. He was bogged down in the carpet, and while he had been making quick progress before he was barely moving. The woman in pink easily caught up with him, and a second later Connor’s friend disappeared under her shoe. She stomped on his body several more times, turning him into paste while cackling like a madwoman.
A titanic white Converse set down in front of Connor, and before he even finished reading ALL STAR he knew his time was up. He stopped just before running into it, but knew that its proximity was not a mistake. Helen’s other shoe swung past and slammed down in the distance. All that remained was for her to bring one down on him and it would be over.
Helen’s colossal shoes in front of Connor pivoted, with one crashing back to the floor far away. The one nearest him lifted its sole and dug its heel into the ground, then rotated. Connor winced when the enormous brown rubber diamonds blocked out his view, expecting it to come down on him, but for now it passed harmlessly. It swung down beside him, the tremors of its impact knocking him over, then began to drag backward with a horrific scratching.
Connor grabbed onto the toe of Helen’s shoe to help stand again. When he finally did he looked up her smooth, towering legs, and just managed to see her baby blue eyes peeking over her breasts. She stared at him in silence while he waited for the killing blow. “Well?” she boomed impatiently. I’m waiting.”
Connor was unsure what to do, but Helen was happy to clarify. “Beg,” she demanded sternly. “Beg for me to not squish you, bug.”
Looking at Helen loom over him made Connor feel even smaller than he already was, and he felt his willpower withering under her gaze. It did not take long for it to break and he got down on his knees. “Please don’t crush me!” he pleaded up, unsure if she could even hear him. “Please please please! I didn’t even want to come here today, it was all Aaron’s fault, I don’t want to die, you’ve already won, just please don’t smash me!”
The giantess laughed, a horrific roar that made Connor shake. “You beg well,” Helen said. “Most shrinks I get refuse out of some sense of unfounded pride. You’re different, though. You’re the size of a bug but you’re spineless, like a worm.”
Deep rumbling from inside Helen’s throat filtered down to Connor while she considered what to do. “Tell you what, worm,” she boomed. “I’m not going to squash you – yet. Instead I’m going to take you upstairs and put you in a cage on my nightstand. That way every day I can laugh at how puny you are, you miserable little wretch. Does that sound fun to you?” Connor gulped. From the sound of it, he should have just let Helen flatten him.
The titaness bent over and easily spotted Connor leaning on her shoe. She swung a hand at him, engulfing him in her fingers, then lifted him from the floor. Carefully she placed her cup beneath her hand and opened her fist, letting the tiny man drop into it. Him clattering against plastic was like music to her ears, and she brushed her hand on her thigh to get rid of the tiny stream of vomit he left for her.
Helen peered into the cup and saw Connor curled into a ball and whimpering. “Bad move, worm,” she bellowed. “Unless that was fear puke you’re starting off with an uphill battle tomorrow.” She considered dumping him out and smashing him right there, but realized she might feel better in the morning after having a good laugh at him.
Connor looked up from the bottom of the white plastic, feeling pathetic under Helen’s glare. He still found her incredibly pretty, but knew that she was not just cold: she was a monster. Even her clemency came out of malice. Life on her nightstand no longer held the appeal it did when she first proposed it now that he was going to be a prisoner for her cruel mockery.
Helen took one last look at the tiny, man-shaped bug in her cup and chortled. Walking to the stairs she slapped her Converse as hard as she could against the carpet in case some other shrinks had gotten away. She would have to congratulate Olga for her concoction, maybe even let her have a turn mocking the worm: he suspected nothing until it was too late. For now though she had to get him into a cage to keep him from making a run for it.