Video recovered from deleted files, “Project Cockroach”, captured on Dr. McKeyla’s lab Athenarm

Thoomp.

A scrawny little 4cm man with glasses.

“D-Dr. McKeyla? Hi, my name’s Norm. I’m a science student. I’ve read all of your papers, back to front! You, you are an absolute genius. I mean, obviously. Actually I’m doing my dissertation, and I was wondering if you could- woah!”

Dr. McKeyla pulled his pants off, injected him with the pen, and waited, taking a few notes in the meantime.

The man in her hand eventually found the courage to speak up again. “Uh, I, I was just w-wondering if I could get your ref-”

Athena dinged. Dr. McKeyla swung the man over the edge of the table. She regarded him for just a moment.

“I don’t do autographs.”

She dropped him. He hit the ground hard, and she studied him as he struggled to roll his tiny broken body over on the floor to look up at her, horrified. She moved the sole of her pump over him, and lowered it.

She paused for a moment, and tilted her head, thinking about something. Should she do autographs? Her mouth frowned for a moment, as if shrugging the thought off, and then pressed down. The man under her foot, who for a few delicate seconds thought maybe he wasn’t about to die, squashed into goo.

Dr. McKeyla noted down the result as the shoe crew scraped him and his broken glasses off. Vaguely she was surprised at how big of a mess such a scrawny kid had made. “Next.”

“Is this how you do science, Doctor?” A voice suddenly said.

Dr. McKeyla turned in her chair to see Angela standing in the doorway, leaning in the frame with her arms crossed. “Well?” McKeyla said, slightly surprised. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

Angela looked to be in her early thirties. She had shoulder length platinum-blond ombre hair in a mid-part, and light brown eyes. She wore her business casual attire today, a dark suit jacket over a white turtleneck, and black high-waisted tight jeans and ankle boots.

“No,” Angela laughed softly, approaching. “I’m sorry. Look, I didn’t mean to intrude. Lorilei let me in, I asked her not to disturb you.”

McKeyla looked through the doorway to see Lorelei look away sheepishly. “You’re here late Angie. Can I offer you some coffee?”

“No thank you. I’m about to head home and go to sleep. But I will have a yogurt. I know you have yogurts, and I know it's the fancy kind. I’ve seen your expense reports.”

McKeyla went to the fridge and pushed aside some cooling samples to grab two yogurt cups and some little wooden spoons.

“Thanks,” Angela said, and leaned against the counter.

“Of course,” McKeyla said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Angela sighed between scoops of fancy yogurt. “It’s nothing. It’s just been a long day and I need to decompress before going home. I never get to see you but I’m still here tonight, so I thought I would stop by and see how everything’s going.”

McKeyla raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ok,” Angela said, wiping the corner of her mouth, “Yes, I’ve been instructed to check up on you personally. But to be fair, that was a while ago and I haven’t done that yet because I trust you. I know you’re a genius and I don’t want to bother you. But, the investors are an impatient bunch, as they always are. So, sorry, but here I am.”

“Here you are. No, it’s absolutely fine. I presume this means you have full clearance for the project then?”

“Yes. I am technically your supervisor.”

“Excellent. You’re a good supervisor, and I also trust you.”

Angela smiled, almost blushing. “Not many people just say that out loud.”

“I’ve been told it’s something I do.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“It’s totally fine. It doesn’t bother me Angela. Would you like to help in the research?”

“Me? Like - right now?”

“Yes.”

“I mean… yeah? Actually I would love to help.” She put down her yogurt cup.

Thoomp. A man appeared on the table, and McKeyla began going through the motions of preparing him. “This part is simple,” she said, ripping off his pants and pressing the pen into his buttock. “I’m just testing the latest batch. You’ve seen the procedure?”

“The proce- yes, I’ve seen it just now.”

“Have you stepped on a man before?”

“Well…yeah. Of course,” Angela said, a little quietly. “Who hasn’t, am I right?” She glanced up at the Athenarm.

“I won’t ask you if it was on purpose. Just remember how it felt, and keep that in mind when you do the procedure. Tell me if there’s any more resistance than you think is normal.” The man in McKeyla’s hand squirmed violently, having listened to where this conversation was leading and decided it was time to escape. McKeyla held him firmly over the X-mark on the floor, and then let go. 

The man plummeted and hit the ground near the X.

Angela saw him there, and looked down at him hesitantly. She glanced up at McKeyla for approval, and moved slowly over him. She watched him as he tried to crawl away. Slowly, she placed her black boot on his back. Angela seemed to be in a world of her own now, and seemingly enjoying the novelty of the situation. “I never get to just do this, you know? There’s all the, optics,” she said quietly. “I always have to deal with them, listen to their little needs and demands. Show respect.”

McKeyla nodded silently, pen and notepad in hand, standing by. She let Angela have her moment, as the little man squirmed beneath the cold, rubber tread.

Angela breathed in deeply, and shifted her weight onto that foot. Her eyelids fluttered a bit as the little man crunched beneath her boot, and his blood ran from the deep tread. Angela sighed and bit her bottom lip as she started to twist and grind the little man into mush.

McKeyla quietly took a note and waited patiently for Angela to finish. When she did finish, Angela looked up, as if snapping out of a daydream, a little sheepish.

“Oh. Did I… help with the uh, research?” She said, lifting her boot and seeing the splattered remains.

“Ah yes, Angela. Very helpful. Now don’t move.” She nodded down at her feet.

“Oh…” Angela said, as the shoe crew scuttled out and started cleaning her boot sole off where she stood.

“Don’t worry. They do an exceptional job. And as you well know, everything that happens here is strictly confidential - I mean, classified.”

***

Angela stopped in the doorway as she was leaving, inspected her sparkling clean boots, and turned to the doctor. “Thank you. I’ll inform the investors of your progress. Uh… keep up the good work.”

“If you're ever here late again and want to come help, or blow off steam… you of course are free to do so,” Dr. McKeyla said.

Angela nodded and headed home.

The next night, Dr. McKeyla found her fridge fully stocked with yogurt.