McKeyla took the roof off of Block C, which someone had dubbed “Bad Ones”. She was not expecting what she saw.

The cell doors were all open, there was debris everywhere, and prisoners in orange jumpsuits were running amok. The 8 guards were held captive by the prisoners, with shivs pressed to their throats, except for one who seemed to be fully unconscious, or possibly dead with a head wound. Many men were bruised and bleeding. They all looked up when the roof came off.

In the middle of the floor area was one of the prisoners who appeared to be the leader. He held a guard in a chokehold, knife angled in toward the neck just under the ear, and a megaphone in the other. “We’ve got hostages, doc! You just back away nice and calm, or we start cutting throats one by one, understand? We’re getting out of here, and if you do anything hasty, they die, got it?”

McKeyla sighed and rolled her eyes. She was tired right now, and didn’t expect to have to deal with whatever this was. She picked up the entire cell block once more.

The tiny men struggled to keep their balance. Many fell and rolled around as the floor moved beneath them. Then their cell block settled down once more, and they quickly regained their composure. The leader still had his hostage in the center, apparently being too surprised by the doctor’s action to make good on his threat. They all looked up.

They were on the floor of the lab. The doctor was standing now, towering above them in her lab coat and business attire. She was expressionless, but had her hands on her hips impatiently. They stared up at her, a feeling of terror building inside of them. The giantess lifted her black pump over the cell block. Her red soles gleaned. 

The leader was stunned. This was not going to plan. He clutched his struggling hostage tight, but more out of fear than anything else. He didn’t know what to do, had nowhere to run. He was frozen as the giant foot came down on him, not even that fast, almost performatively slow. He pissed his pants.

All the men watched as the giant shoe descended onto both prisoner and guard. It slowed when it made contact, pressing them onto the floor. It held them there just long enough for everyone to get a good look at the two men pinned beneath it like insects. Long enough to see that their struggling was futile and painful and humiliating. The giantess’s expression never changed, never showed any hint of emotion. Then she simply shifted her weight forward a bit, and the two men crunched and burst beneath her patent leather shoes.

As blood pooled from under it, McKeyla twisted her huge foot back and forth once, just a little bit, producing a squeaking, squelching noise for all to hear, and then lifted her shoe while resting on the heel. It came up with a wet sucking noise, trailing red slimy viscera. The raised sole revealed the two bodies, barely recognizable as once being human, flattened into one gory patch. She slowly turned her ankle left and right, displaying the result to all present.

The men backed away, horrified. Some of them vomited.

McKeyla, once she figured they had seen enough, lifted her foot out and scraped the remains off on the lip of the wall above them, producing a lump of gristly gore that fell with a splat into the cell block. Then she leaned over the open cell block.

”Now listen to me,” McKeyla said. “I don’t have time to deal with you all running around in there. I need order from you, not chaos. Whoever enforces this for me will live - I guarantee it. I don’t care who it is, blue, orange, whichever. The rest of you are going to die. I want men brought to me, on the floor in the middle, under my foot. When I turn them into paste, I want my shoe cleaned, each time. Otherwise, I simply crush all of you right now. Am I understood?”

She stood up to her full height and gave them a moment. She didn’t bother to zoom in with her glasses, but she assumed they were getting it sorted out, more or less. Soon after, she put her foot back into the prison, sole raised and resting on the heel again, awaiting their first sacrifice. She was patient for now, as it was their first time. If this worked, it would be more efficient in the long run.

Someone was thrown down at her foot. She cocked her head for a better look, and frowned. “The guards are useless to me, they haven’t been injected. But I appreciate the hustle. Now try again. I’m waiting.” 

Her patience was rewarded, as the tiny prisoners turned their attention to a smaller inmate. He shrieked as the larger men grabbed him and threw him down beneath her raised shoe. 

McKeyla lowered her foot and felt him crush beneath her. She looked at the monitor and saw one of the body symbols go from green to red. She nodded and picked up her notepad and started jotting down notes, mostly on the experimental enforcement technique she had just enacted. Meanwhile she had raised her shoe again. The little men stripped off their shirts and began wiping at her sole.

Her notes were rather lengthy, and when she put down her pad and looked down, they were still working away under there. “That’s much too slow,” she said, and lowered her foot onto the cleaners. She crushed two of them, while the rest jumped out of the way. She ground them into pulp, and then, to speed things, scraped that off on the wall again where she did the last one. Then she replaced her foot and picked up her pad again while the men got to work on what was left over - mostly blood and few sticky bits.

The next time she put it down, the men all scrambled away from her foot. She lifted up and turned her ankle so she could see the sole. “Better,” she said. “But still not good enough. I’ll need to see improvement. Next.”

She replaced her foot. They grabbed another small guy and tossed him down. She stepped on him, took her note, and then looked at her sole again. This time it was even cleaner. They were soaking their shirts in water from the bathroom, the sink counter and floors covered in red water. She nodded. “Marked improvement. Keep going.”

Soon the men had formed a bucket line, quickly passing down rinsed shirt-rags from the bathroom and blood soaked ones going the other way. Each time she scraped her shoe off, the remains slid down into one of the cells. Meanwhile, the strongest and meanest men systematically singled out whoever was the smallest left.

Dr. McKeyla heard a soft “Ahem,” from the intercom system in her glasses, which pinged a small man in a white jumpsuit on the floor.

She leaned down to the Shoe Crew foreman. “You and your crew can take an extended break, I won’t be needing you for some time.” The little man saluted, and headed off, and McKeyla turned her attention back to her testing.

One time, the unwilling sacrifice scrambled out away from her shoe and the men had to catch him again and drag him back. McKeyla tapped her foot impatiently, sending tremors crashing through the cell block, until they tossed him under and he pulped.

They had made her wait, so to punish them, McKeyla chose one of the enforcers at random, and ordered him to be next. They quickly beat him into submission and threw him down. This one she crushed agonizingly slowly. The men all stood by uncomfortably, listening to every cracking bone, gurgling plea for help, and finally the slow, wet crunch of his body.

”That was exactly how long you made me wait,” McKeyla said. She lifted her sole for the cleaning. “The next time I have to wait, you will all be cleaning with your tongues. Understood?”

From then on, the rest of the sacrifices were each quickly beaten so thoroughly they could not even attempt to escape.

Much later, the amount of men remaining had thinned, and everyone was extremely tense. There were a dozen men left, divided into two groups: The bucket line had decided to group up and defend themselves in a corner, and the enforcers had them surrounded but were unable to break them. Everyone else had been victims of Darwinism, except the remaining guards who had been locked in a cell.

McKeyla, tapping her foot loudly with her arms crossed, sighed. The men looked up at her, either desperately or accusingly. She saw a stalemate. “All right,” she said, and raised her other foot over the bucket crew in the corner. “Well, this experiment is over.”  

She stepped down into the group. Most of them dove out of the way, but she still crushed three of them completely, and another one in half. She swung her other foot over the wall, and smashed two more who were scrambling away. “Of course I can’t actually let any of you live - Useful as you’ve proven yourselves, you might try to escape.” 

With both feet in the cell block, she began stepping on all of them. Her black patent leather pumps followed the screaming men as they ran around like rats trapped in a cage, smashing their guts out with each carefully placed step. They tried to climb up the walls but it was impossible. Even when a couple managed to work together for a few moments to boost one higher, the giant doctor pushed them down under her shoe and mashed them both into paste. One backed himself into a corner, hoping he would be safe there, but she used the pointed toebox of her pump to crush him, and a thick jet of blood shot up the walls and onto her shoe. She was already looking behind her, and walked backward, carefully squashing one more.

Eventually the last one, desperately out of his mind, tried to get into the cell where the guards were being held. He didn’t have the key and was trying to squeeze through the bars. McKeyla used her shoe to help him by pressing him through like hamburger meat through a grinder, much to the horror of the guards. 

She didn’t need the guards since they hadn’t been injected, and definitely didn’t need any witnesses. So she raised her pump, dripping with gore, over the cell stuffed with 7 guards. She couldn’t quite fit her whole foot down into the small room, at least until the walls shattered beneath her weight and allowed her to fully step down into the wriggling, screaming bodies. They burst and splattered under her shoe. She twisted her foot back and forth. When she was satisfied, she scraped the thick layer of gore off on the lip of the wall, and inspected the cell block. The floor was littered with flattened bodies, and the walls were splattered with blood. She went about and casually stepped on any remains that were still twitching or not completely flat.

”Athena, are there any left?”

”There are no surviving inmates of Cell Block C.”

She sighed, and scraped off her soles before stepping out of the box. Still no real results, but maybe something from the debacle could be used in future. She sat down heavily in her chair and hailed the shoe crew to come back in while she considered the next step.