“Doctor? Savanna’s men, they’re awaiting for your instructions,”

”Oh? Alright Lorilei, thank you.”

Dr. McKeyla walked from her office into the laboratory. There in the middle of the floor was the janitorial crew in their white jumpsuits, holding mops and buckets and squeegees, and there was a little Zamboni or some kind of cleaning vehicle. She stood and stared down at them, zooming in to their faces with her Owl Lens glasses, which took in their faces and their name tags, logging them. The men waited patiently but awkwardly. The foreman, a bald pig-looking man with sad eyes named Ted, was waving up at her politely, but was ignored.

Eventually Dr. McKeyla spoke. “You have been selected for your hard work, your experience, your constitution, and your discretion.”

They nodded to each other, still not sure what was going on.

She continued. “This job will not be easy. You will have to work fast and you will have to work hard. You will not be able to speak of anything you see here to anyone outside of this laboratory. Is that understood?”

More nodding.

”You’re probably wondering what we’re doing here. I am developing a medical product that will make men like you indestructible.”

At this, there was cheering and high-fiving amongst the men.

“Yes, thank you. This next part may be hard to hear. This science will require testing. Lots of testing.” She took a step forward, her high heels clicking, until she loomed over them. She leaned down. “I am going to crush many men beneath these shoes. For science.”

There was silence now. A few nervous glances.

”Purposeful, controlled crush testing, for scientific accuracy. Your job, like before, will be to clean bodily remains off of my shoes and my floor.”

Only the quietest of murmurs came from the men.

“Obviously this won’t be pleasant for you,” the doctor continued, “which is why your pay is quadruple regular rate, plus danger pay, and… oh what else…” She stood straight again and looked at some notes on her phone. “...night shift premium, and unlimited overtime, massage therapy, and a new trauma counselor from AthenaCorp will be assigned to you. Also a pinball machine in your private break room.”

A few very slow nods here and there.

“Good,” she said. “Any among you who object to this, or think you can’t handle it for any reason, may leave the program at this point. Step forward now.”

There was much looking back and forth and muttering to each other among them now. The Doctor waited patiently, one hand on her hip.

After a while, a man came forward. He took his hard hat off. “I, I can’t do this. Cleaning up accidents is one thing, but doing it on purpose? That’s… that’s murder. I can’t be no part of that. Not for science, not for nothing, I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

Dr. McKeyla nodded and stared down at him. There was more awkward silence. The man looked around, up at her, back at his comrades. “So I can go?” He asked.

”Yes,” Dr. McKeyla said. “I’m glad you volunteered to ‘go’, I wanted to be 100% clear and provide an example to the others.” She moved her giant foot forward and knocked the man to the floor, his hard hat rolling away. She placed a shoe over him, resting on his chest. The rest of the men jumped back in alarm. The man struggled beneath her, arms flailing. She ignored him and addressed the rest. “You all signed the NDA agreement. Leaving the program early results in termination. Like this:” She pressed down, producing a horrible crunching noise heard over the man’s shrill screams, which lasted until he was crushed flat. She left her foot there while blood pooled from underneath, and innards oozing out like paste. “That is what you will witness every day among the test subjects until this project is done. And this,” she said, lifting her sole with a wet sucking sound and balancing on her heel,” is what you will be cleaning up, day after day.” She waited a while for them to absorb the information displayed on her sole. 

Most of them paled and looked away. A few of them vomited. They had cleaned up bodies before, but had not witnessed a crushing so deliberate and so close up. They had not had to stare at the barely recognizable remains of someone they had just been standing beside before, smeared and shapeless with their guts all over the place, face mashed and eyeballs popped out staring back at them. Pieces dripped wetly to the floor.

“Do I have any volunteers for my other shoe?” The doctor asked. 

Nobody moved.

“No? Good. Then show me your skills now. Clean this up.”

The men shook it off and got to work. Doctor McKeyla waited patiently while they scrubbed and mopped. After a while she noticed they were having trouble reaching up toward the tip with their mops, so she lowered her sole. The men ran away. 

“Ah-ah, you can get right back under there. I lowered my foot so you could reach. We will need to work together to produce a clean and sterile environment for testing. I don’t want samples to be contaminated.”

They cautiously got back under her shoe and continued cleaning. It was not as fast work as she would like, but she allowed it this first time. She was sure they would soon get more efficient.

When they stepped back, apparently finished, she examined their work. Her sole was sparkling clean. “Satisfactory.” She put her foot down, making them jump again. She gestured to the table next to her, and moved the chair back a few inches. Rather, she gestured under the table. ”This is your work station from now on. You can set up in the back there. I’ll return soon and we’ll get to work.” She walked back to her office, stepping on the freshly mopped floor. They watched her leave, her heels clicking, and they stared at each other with their stained mops and buckets of gore.

“Alright Athena, I’m beginning trials with the new technique. I’ve removed the medical assistant, and will be processing subjects myself, from start to finish. It sounds like a step backward, but I believe it will actually be the most straightforward method. And I prefer the hands-on approach. Test subjects will be de-clothed by me, and then I will inject them using a new smart-syringe, which is designed for someone to inject shrunken patients. It will be injected into the buttock as that’s the fastest and easiest approach. Then I’ll drop the subject on the floor and crush them with my shoe, as that  would be the easiest and most accurate approach to testing durability. I have new assistants on the floor ready to clean and sterilize. Let’s see how this goes. And yes, you heard me correctly as well, little man. Try not to squirm too much.”

Dr. McKeyla held a little man in her hand. She tightened her grip on him as he began to struggle, and she pinched his clothes with her fingernails, easily ripping them off and tossing them in the disposal by rubbing her fingertips together. She rolled him over face down in her gloved palm with his buttocks sticking out, and pressed what looked like a white pen into his cheek. When pressure was applied, a blue light appeared on the other end of the pen. Then it turned green signaling the injection was complete. Sure enough, her monitors showed a figure with nanites flooding his bloodstream, complete with rapidly beating heart, adrenaline production, and heightened brain activity in the amygdala. When the infusion was complete, McKeyla swiveled her chair around, held the man out, and dropped him on the floor. He landed with a faint plap noise. 

Then he dashed away.

Only a second later he was up and running for his life.

”Oh, shit!” McKeyla hissed. She stamped down on the floor with her foot but missed. She had to bolt out of her chair and take a full step, stomping down again, but the man had doubled back suddenly and she missed again. She stomped with her other foot, and for a second was sure she had gotten him, but then he darted away from under her arch. He sped under the table. She shoved her chair out of the way and crouched down to look. She saw the white jumpsuit crew standing there, not sure what to do, as the naked man ran toward the back. “Grab him!” She ordered. She then watched as they sprang into action, and it looked like a football play as everyone tried to tackle the one man who dodged and weaved and pushed them aside. Suddenly he ran away from them and back toward her. “Oh!” She shouted and slammed her hand down, but he seemed to jump from between her fingers and around her hand. She stood up again and looked around, catching a glimpse of him running under another table. “That way!” She said to the other men. For a horrifying moment she had a mental glimpse of him escaping, notifying reporters or something, and getting the whole program shut down. Having lost sight of him momentarily, she moved to close the lab doors and block off all exits.

Meanwhile the shoe crew chased him all over the floor, diving at him as he twisted away, trying to trip his legs with mop handles, slipping on their own spilt buckets of soapy water. Then they had to dodge out of the way of Dr. McKeyla’s booming high heels as she rushed across the lab to seal the other exits. 

Eventually he became gassed, jogging tiredly away from the other men, until they had him surrounded, mops pointed at him like spears. He was too tired to get away.

McKeyla’s patent leather pump slammed down from heaven. The runner exploded, soaking all the men and their white jumpsuits. They spat and wiped their faces. 

McKeyla looked down, panting, with a triumphant smile on her open mouth. When she caught her breath, and noticing unhappily the blood and innards sprayed up to a few feet in all directions, she turned slowly and walked back to her chair. She sat, and after pondering for a few moments, she took some notes.

”Forgot the already inherent resilience of such small figures. Falling from such a height barely slows them down, and of course from there they will try to escape. First test was a literal mess. Was this one a Tinyball Running Back, perhaps? I’ll need to think of something to keep them running away.”

The following  video files are clipped and assembled from various tests throughout the day. Each one ends as the janitorial crew comes out to clean up.

Dr. McKeyla drops a man into a large box on the floor. She stamps her foot repeatedly, in all different areas of the box, apparently trying to pin down the test subject. Eventually she seems to finish him off with some difficulty in a corner of the box, and when she withdraws her foot, the pointed toe of her shoe is covered in blood. She looks down unhappily at the box with her hands on her hips. She tips it a bit, considering if she should let the crew in to clean it, but then sighs and throws the whole box out. 

Dr. McKeyla raises her hand and throws a man straight down into the ground. He lands with a splatter. She stares at the result for a while, and eventually pokes the remains with the toe of her shoe. There appears to be a limp torso and not much else attached. She purses the side of her mouth, and sighs, grinding out the torso without enthusiasm.

Dr. McKeyla holds a man in one hand and grabs his legs in the other, cracking them in half. The man screams loudly as she turns her chair and with a look of disgust, drops the mangled mess to the floor. She notices her gloves are covered in blood and one of the legs has dripped onto her lab coat. She groans unhappily, standing and taking her gloves off, disposing them, and then taking her lab coat off. She looks at the man, who’s constant shrieking seems to irritate her, and she stomps him angrily and walks away to get a new lab coat. 

Dr. McKeyla takes a piece of clear tape, and tries to stick it to itself in a loop shape. She has to remake it as it gets stuck and folds in the wrong place. Eventually she gets one right, and sticks to the back of a man. Then she leans down and presses him onto the floor with her fingers. He pushes himself up and bounces to the side, getting his feet underneath him, and pulls the tape free from the floor. He runs with the tape loop stuck to his back for a few good seconds before McKeyla steps on him, sighing and shaking her head.

Dr. McKeya tries attaching double sided, extra strength tape to the back of a man, but it gets stuck on her glove too and she can’t get it off. Frustrated, she takes the whole glove off, throws it to the floor and stomps on it In a huff.

Dr. McKeyla carefully applies a piece of double sided, extra strength tape to the floor using a tape dispenser. Then she carefully places a man onto the piece of tape, laying on his back. She stands up, observing for a minute the man as he tries to escape, flailing helplessly like a mouse in a sticky-trap. She smiles to herself in pleased satisfaction as she crushes him. She sits down and takes notes as the shoe crew cleans her sole.

Much later, when she’s done with her notes, she looks down and sees the shoe crew still there, unexpectedly. They put their hands up and shrug in defeat. McKeyla crosses her leg to inspect her sole, and finds the tape still there, with red mush firmly stuck in between. She blinks, and then breathes a heavy sigh. It takes even her a few moments to be able to peel up a corner of the tape and pull the whole thing off. It leaves a sticky red residue on her sole, a mixture of glue and gore. 

Dr. McKeyla reads through medical texts and chemical formulas. She mixes chemicals in beakers. In the background, Lorilei enters and brings in a new shipment of supplies. The intern asks how the trials are going. The doctor turns and drops a man onto the floor. The man stands up quickly, and runs away, but wobbles and trips, moving in erratic directions and holding his head. He eventually falls to his knees and throws up. Dr. McKeyla shakes her head and returns to her notes, waving them off. Lorilei dutifully walks over to the man and carefully crushes him under Vans sneakers.

Dr. McKeyla injects a man and drops him to the floor and watches him run, and he eventually falls down, suddenly weak, unable to control his body. She stands up and takes a few steps over to crush him, her hand on her chin thoughtfully.

Dr. McKeyla remixes chemicals. The second man she injects goes limp in her hand before she can even drop him. When she does, he rag dolls on the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. His mouth is open but silent. She slowly lowers her foot onto him, head tilted to the side to watch for signs of escape or movement. There is nothing except for his eyes which still dart around in horror as he is unable to move a muscle. She grinds him flat while writing down notes. 

“Doctor? You should eat something,” Lorilei said, leaning through the laboratory door.

“Yes, alright. Thank you Lori, I’ll continue later.”

”Recording, Doctor,” Athena said, after lunch.

Dr. McKeyla put her coffee down. A tiny man on the table jumped out of the way. Not seeming to notice, she said: “Athena, I’m continuing to fine tune the new procedure. Despite setbacks, I’m sure in the long run it will prove more efficient, and more accurate, able to accurately replicate the exact scenario we’re aiming to address. I think I’ve gotten the restraining formula down, which will be removed eventually but is required for now so that I don’t have to run all over the lab for each test. Here we go.”

The tiny man on the table spoke up. “Replicating the scenario exactly? How so?”

Dr. McKeyla leaned close to him, her face filling his vision. He could see himself reflected in her glasses. She said, “I’m going to crush you under my shoe. You should try to run, for posterity.” Dr. McKeyla scooped him up, tore his clothes off, and injected his buttocks with the smart-syringe while he struggled, and then swiveled her chair over and dropped him on the floor.

The little man screamed as he hit the surface. Quickly he shook it off, and tried to get up to run away, but found he could no longer move his legs. They weren’t broken, but he just couldn’t feel them. He looked up at the doctor in horror.

Looming over him, she made a little running motion with her two fingers, urging him to flee.

He tried once more, but could only pull himself along with his arms. Dr. McKeyla watched him for a while, and then took some notes, and watched him some more. Eventually, she took one step forward, easily catching up to him. She put her heel on the ground behind him, and held her sole over him, casting him into shadow.

”This is your last chance to use your legs and run away,” she said, matter-of-factly. She waited, lowering her shoe slowly, until it was clear that the desperate man could in no way run away. It wasn’t until her sole touched him and she heard a few faint cracking bones, that she said “Good,” and stepped all the way down. She spun slowly around on him, completely liquifying him, and walked back to her chair, satisfied.

McKeyla spent the rest of the night testing the main formula without having any escapees. She would drop them, step on them, and the cleaning crew cleaned everything up. Finally things were progressing smoothly and efficiently. Unfortunately there was no progress on the main goal of making them crush-proof, but she was comfortable in the new system at least.

When morning came, she packed up her notes and stood up to leave. She noticed something out the bottom corner of her eyes, and stopped suddenly. She had almost tread on one of the janitorial staff, whom she had forgotten about.

“Right,” she said, adjusting her glasses and gathering her thoughts. They were all standing there, clothing and hair stained red, leaning heavily on their mops and equipment. They were obviously exhausted and looking up at her. “Well done today,” she said. “I think the plan is working perfectly. Any questions?”

They looked at each other silently. Nobody spoke up.

“Any objections?”

They all quickly shook their heads.

“Good. Then we’ll reconvene tomorrow night. Remember your NDAs.” 

***

At the end of the week she was writing extensive notes to summarize her findings. Her mind was getting tired and she felt stiff, and so she leaned back in her chair, stretching her spine and rubbing the back of her neck.

Something crunched under her foot. For a few moments, she didn’t even consider it. But then it struck her, and she realized what she must have done. She quickly leaned under the table to see.

There was a red stain there. “Oh shit,” she said aloud, for the second time that week. She moved her foot, but didn’t see a body. Then she realized a little shamefully where it must be, and she crossed her ankle over her thigh to get a look at her sole. There he was, a squashed little guy, his intestines bursting out from his white jumpsuit, his limbs and neck all twisted at wrong angles and his face flattened in horror. She looked down again and saw the rest of the cleaners standing awkwardly under the table. She sighed. “That’s my mistake. I’m sorry about your coworker.” 

She slowly put her foot back down under the table, carefully placing it amongst the cleaners without stepping on any more of them, and held her sole perfectly elevated for them to clean, before writing some new notes. She had discovered a new flaw in the new system, and something would have to be done, or else this would surely happen again. She didn’t want to have to keep replacing the floor workers. She recorded her findings, but could not immediately think of a solution. She was tired. Was there already some kind of safeguard for this kind of thing? 

She leaned under the table again. “Do you have some way of ensuring this doesn’t happen again? I don’t want to keep replacing you.”

They didn’t answer. Gradually it dawned on McKeyla that they were probably a bit upset. They had just finished cleaning up their coworker and had been walking away with full buckets when they froze and addressed her.

”Oh,” she said, sheepishly. She turned her ankle and looked at the gleaming, clean red sole of her patent leather pump. “You know what, never mind.” She paused for a bit, trying to think of something to say. What would Savanna say? Or Angela? Before finally: “Good work this week, all of you. I think we’re done here for tonight. Why don’t you all just go home, and maybe think of a solution and bring it to me on monday?”

She stared at them as they all looked at each other slowly, and eventually nodded.

”Okay then. Enjoy your weekends.” McKeyla leaned back up again, stared into the distance, and then nodded to herself, before packing up her notes.

***

Thoomp. The sound of a new subject arriving on the table via pneumatic tube.

The 4 centimeter man was dressed in crisp, casual clothes and walked with a straight back and haughty poise.

“Approach,” Dr. McKeyla said from overhead, looking at something else.

The little man cleared his throat, as if to show that he was already approaching. “Dr. McKeyla, I presume? I’m Dr. Martin Calloway. I had a hospital before the pandemic, and in all the chaos of the past few years, the medical board hasn’t called me back yet. That’s why I joined the volunteers here. I can help you with your research, and perhaps get a position here as a - Hwuk!”

Dr. McKeyla grabbed him in her gloved hand with practiced ease, and tore his clothes off. She pressed the smart-syringe into his buttock, and after a moment, the man yelped and twitched. Dr. McKelya studied the man’s readouts on her monitors. She held him pressed into her finger with her thumb. 

He struggled for breath. She seemed to be rubbing him roughly, either absent-mindedly fidgeting, or doing some sort of physical examination. Eventually, when the monitors showed all-systems go, she finally allowed him to roll over. He gasped, struggled to catch his breath, and managed to say “Hey-” before he saw her looking him in the eye, looming above, and he stopped mid sentence.

She swiveled her chair around and cocked her head. She said evenly: “Of course you can help with my research, Doctor Whatever-it-was. That’s what you’re here for. Here’s your new position.” She dropped him, where he pinwheeled his arms in open space before hitting the floor with a tiny plap. He landed on a black painted X.

She stood up. She didn’t need to stand up, but she did anyway. The man looked up, dazed and broken, at her towering miles overhead. 

“And here’s how you help.” She blocked his vision with the sole of her pump. “Stay right there, and don’t move.”

She lowered her foot. It was a casual pace, slow but not too slow - as if she wanted him to drink in the experience, or see if he would actually stay in place. At the last moment, he crawled clear of her shoe, dragging his limp legs.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Useless. You’re no help to me at all unless I step on you.” 

She placed her sole lightly on his back and dragged him back onto the painted X. She held him there for a few moments, as if trying to feel him struggling through the sole of her shoe, or perhaps just to give him time to experience terror and humiliation, before she pressed down. It was again a casual speed, but he easily squashed beneath her shoe. She twisted him back and forth as she studied the monitors for any sign of the serum’s success - there was none, and she sighed, stretched, and then sat again.

She swiveled her legs under the table, and leaned way down to look there. There was a small structure there now - an angular, scaffolded thing which she carefully placed her foot into. Her shoe rested there against her arch, her toes pointed slightly upward. The cleaning crew scuttled out and clambered beneath her resting sole, which was exposed to them, and they got to work. Dr. McKeyla watched them for a few moments, and then relaxed her weight fully.

She didn’t notice because of her size and vantage point, but the men noticed as the structure creaked and groaned beneath her weight. They trembled slightly as they worked under her foot, but the the shoe cleaning station seemed to be working. It was less frightening then relying their lives entirely on her presence of mind not to accidentally crush them. 

Above them, all appeared perfectly well, so McKeyla let them to it and focused on her notes. After all, that was the point of the thing. She also noticed with satisfaction that it was a more comfortable angle to rest her feet. Everything had finally fallen into place, and she could focus entirely on the tests now.