You open your eyes even though there is only darkness. You find yourself somewhere cold and claustrophobic—two gigantic pieces of bread pressing against your face and back. Turning your head to the side, you manage to get a few deep breaths of damp air with the consistency of thawing ice mixed with the earthy smell of lettuce. That barely makes it any better.

The university has one simple rule: the bottom 10% of students are turned into protein for the rest. Maybe it’s to solve overpopulation. Maybe it’s to reinforce the fear of failure. Maybe they just find it funny. Nobody knows or cares to try justifying it. It’s a bit frightening how quickly people had just accepted it to be a fact of life. Not to brag, but before this strange law was enacted, you were a solid C+ student. But when everyone began tightening their belt, you fell behind—destined to be cut away like the dead weight you are.

You almost feel compelled to buy into the conspiracy theory that these rules specifically target male students, but this feels like a terrible coping mechanism. That being said, the gender ratio did go from an almost perfect 50:50 to 40:60 and now 30:70. Whatever. It’s not that you will ever have a chance to investigate. 

There is no point in even struggling against the bread. The sandwich which you've been made the meat of is wrapped tightly in foil. It's pathetic to think that at this size, just a thin sheet of plastic seems like an impenetrable barrier. Your head is beginning to hurt. The oxygen is getting thinner, but there's just enough to keep you alive, forcing you to physically focus on not passing out. Fresh meat tastes better, after all. 

In just a few minutes, there will be a rush of students wanting to get their lunch and wolfing it down before returning to studying. Even if they somehow cared about the well-being of a failure, they would get in trouble for trying to smuggle out a tiny and meet the same fate. For those still big, it was best to just chew through the high-pitched screams. 

You glance down at your feet. Depending on which side of the sandwich they start with, you’ll either end up decapitated or have to endure living with only half of your torso before the giantess decides to take another bite. Even thinking about it is enough to make you sick. If you didn’t know any better, you might have begun thrashing for help. 

Then, there comes the bell. It rings through the entire university, making you vibrate from both the force and fear that it instills. The stampede of students is currently forming a line, chatting with each other with little regard for the fact that they will consume who were once their classmates. A tear drops down your cheek, adding salt to the meal. 

An overpowering sense of vertigo overcomes you as the sandwich is hoisted up into the air and placed on a simple food tray. The clicks of the woman's platform shoes are like ticks of a clock counting towards your death. She takes a seat, beginning to unwrap your plastic prison. 

Now lifted vertically, you look up—bracing yourself for the first bite while uttering a silent prayer. Light comes flooding through as the boulder-sized pearly teeth take out a huge chunk of the bread. They narrowly avoided your head, with strands of thick saliva connecting her puffy lips to the sandwich as she chews. Warm crumbs and spit begin falling on you, giving you a pleasant break from the cold of the freezer. 

Lifting her head, the woman swallows, and you watch as the chewed-up food travels down her throat. Before you’re even able to admire her—to look into the eyes of your soon-to-be murderer—it's time for the next bite. She wipes her cheek, looking down at the sandwich again and preparing to open her mouth. But then, your eyes lock. It’s those familiar eyes you have seen before—bright and blue, like a pond of fresh water. It’s Charlotte, your childhood friend. 

“It’s you!” She squeals in excitement, parting the bread and relieving some pressure on your lungs. “I was so worried.” Thank goodness it's her. Charlotte is a top-grade student, so you weren't ever worried about her. But hey, for what it’s worth, it’s nice knowing that she worried about you. 

Leaning in a bit closer, the woman manages to catch the fear on your face. “Aww come on, dude. We studied together, and you still failed!” She pouts, crossing her arms while dropping you down onto the tray still wrapped in the cocoon of bread and lettuce. “I gave you all the study notes, and explained stuff over email—come on!”

You bring your hands together, begging her to not devour you. 

Her smile dims slightly. “Bro…Don’t even joke about stuff like that. Of course, I am not going to eat you. You are my friend.” The growl of her stomach says otherwise, with the woman already licking her lips. She’s even beginning to drool a little. “But I can’t exactly just put you in my pocket. I will get in trouble if I don’t eat you, you know?” 

You nod. The last thing you want is for Charlotte to suffer at your expense. But the fear within you almost demands of her to manifest a miracle. 

“I like you. I really-really like you. But…well, I don’t want to end up tiny myself. The next person who buys you and me will probably not be as kind.” She lets out that adorable laugh—the same laugh you have grown to love since you were both kids. “Even if I get you out of here, you are going to spend the rest of your life as a tiny. Are you really okay with that? I can end you here if you want. I promise I will chew quickly.” Opening her mouth, the woman points towards her molars—her finger covered with silver strands of spit. 

Even if you try pushing them away, the thoughts of her biting your head off are already in your mind. Swallowing nervously, you proudly proclaim that you’re fine being only 3 inches tall as long as you stay with her. If there is anybody you would trust with handling your tiny body—if there ever was such a person—it would be Charlotte. 

“Aww, stop!” She blushes a little, waving it off. “Don’t say stuff like that, or people will think that you’re serious.” Suddenly, Charlotte freezes—her bright face turning colorless. She looks right then left then right again before lifting the tray and moving the both of you into a more remote part of the canteen. Talking to your meal is a taboo, after all. “Ah, there. We should be safe.” She reaches down with her slender finger, rubbing the side of your cheek. “I will figure something out. I promise.”

“Yo! Charlie.” There is a jolt as somebody locks her arm around Charlotte's neck, pulling her into an awkward hug. That would be Maya, with her unmistakable tanned skin and short black hair cut that way for convenience rather than any semblance of style. You’ve never really liked her all that much. The official designation for her would be a “tomboy,” but she hated when you called her that, saying that it made her sound fetishy. “What are you doing here alone?”

“Ah. You know!” She waved the hand not holding you as if that actually explained anything. “Just wanted to rest a bit after the exam. You know?” Charlotte having already said ‘you know’ twice made Maya raise an eyebrow. 

“You already ate your dude?” She looked over the empty bread as a sly smirk appeared on her lips. “Oh, I get it. You also enjoy teasing them a bit before gobbling the guys down, right?” She leaned even closer, making you duct for cover between the pillars that are Charlotte's fingers. If somebody like Maya was able to pass, the whole conspiracy is starting to look a lot more plausible. 

“It’s nothing like this. Really.” The woman begins fidgeting, making you lose your footing as you desperately cling to her for dear life. 

“Come on, no need to be ashamed.” She grabbed onto Charlotte's wrists. “I know these used to be our classmates, but it’s hard to think of them as humans anymore, no? I mean, you can barely tell them apart at that size!” She chuckles again. While your friend’s laughter was warm and cute, Maya’s was just cold and cruel.

All the attempts at maintaining balance fall flat as you pummel to the floor below, landing on the black glistening surface of Charlotte's platform shoes. Both she and Maya look down at you for a moment. It hurts, but your body is a lot more durable than that of a human, meaning that you’re still relatively intact. And while your childhood friend looks terrified—her lips quivering, that scruffy tomboy is already reaching for you.

“5 seconds rule!” You are hoisted in the air, dangling above the huge face of Maya. Her maw flicks open, with a row of teeth marking the gate between the light and the dark abyss of her gullet. You cling onto her finger just like you clung onto Charlotte's, but instead of steadying herself, she starts moving it back and forth like you’re some filth stuck to her. 

“Maya! Stop!” Your savior swoops in, grabbing your body and pulling it close to her chest. And then, you slip. For a moment, time seems to move slower as you begin falling—quickly going through all the stages of grief. “Ick!” It’s the type of sound you’ve only heard Charlotte make when you used to tease her with bugs. The tumble may have ended in a soft landing, but you now found yourself in the cavity between her breasts. 

Trying to get footing or grip felt pointless, with your sinking into her mammaries. After a moment of wiggling around, you are forced to accept your position: trapped, with only the head popping above the warm skin. It’s really stuffy in here, with the sweet scent of her body mixed with the lavender cleaning detergent from her bra overwhelming you. Oddly enough, it’s peaceful, with your naked body being plucked up from your little haven and back into the cold air being an unpleasant shock to the system.

“Geez, I was teasing! I am not gonna steal your protein.” She rubbed the back of her head, letting out a burst of laughter that probably was meant to be innocent but came off as vindictive. Maybe the tiny ears are messing with your perception, but that hungry glare does not make you feel any safer. “Besides-” Maya said while pointing towards Charlotte's cleavage, making the woman finally button up her shirt properly “-getting the little guy hot and bothered like this makes them taste better, you know? It’s all about hormones.” How wonderfully vague. With this girl, you never know if she’s actually serious about believing stuff like that, or if she’s just trying to mess with people. “But if you’re not gonna eat your food, someone will swipe it.” With that, she waves her hand, leaving to join her clique. “Cya!”

Charlotte lifts you up to her face, only being able to make eye contact after squinting. “I know Maya is a bit of a jerk sometimes, but she is correct.” Another grumble betrays her hunger as the woman licks her lips, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a small chalky white medication—the type you might take for a stomach ache. “This should make it so that I don’t—uh—digest you.” She blinked a few times to regain her composure, looking down. “Once we make it out of the cafeteria, I will find some way to get you out of there.” You see her patting her hungry stomach.  “I promise I’ll be gentle, okay? No chewing.”

You can feel the humid breath surrounding you as Charlotte opens her mouth. She closes her eyes, trying not to make an awkward face as you are lowered onto her pink tongue, feeling the rough texture of the taste buds below you. It’s a deceptively warm pillow, like a trap laid perfectly for you to relax your muscles and allow yourself to be swallowed. 

As the mouth closes, you once again find yourself fighting for the stale air. There is only silence, broken by your breaths echoing through the walls of this coral-pink cavern. So even soundwaves can’t escape. What hope do you have? And then there is this spit which drips from every surface. Your entire body is slowly coated by the slimy liquid, with no amount of wiping truly getting it off. 

Charlotte hesitates, resulting in you being stuck in this oral limbo until she finally gathers the courage to swallow her close friend. The woman flicks her tongue back as the muscles of her throat begin pushing you like just another granule of food, sending your tiny body down the dark tunnel that is her esophagus. But you don’t drop down the chute—oh no. Her muscles squeeze and press against you during your journey, with each rhythmic movement bringing you closer and closer to the inevitable fate that is the pit of her stomach. 

Charlotte massages her gullet with her index and middle finger, hoping to make your journey a little easier. “I am a little guilty about how excited this makes me…” She whispers, looking down at her stomach. You are barely able to hear anything outside of your gastric prison, with its sounds overwhelming your entire body. It’s odd, but you can’t help but feel a certain perverted attachment to the growls of her stomach. It was like a twisted version of the affection humans have toward the heartbeat. 

Finally, there is the long-awaited drop, with you closing your eyes despite being in complete darkness. With a loud splash, you land in a warm concoction of acid and enzymes. Her stomach was another cavern for you to explore—the muscular walls oozing with digestive juices. Occasionally, a wave would ripple through, causing the walls to contract and squeeze everything within. This now includes you. It was a sensation akin to being caught in the grip of a powerful vise, with you holding your breath each time.

You struggle to stand up, feeling something akin to soft clay below you. It has a certain medicinal smell to it, with you guessing these are the remnants of the capsule Charlotte took beforehand. It seemed to have worked. Sure, you feel the faint stinging all over your skin—especially in the eyes—but it’s not like you’re actually getting dissolved and reduced into mere nutrients for her. 

Looking up at the muscular sphincter leading to her esophagus, you think about how she is going to get you out of here. Despite her seemingly altruistic motives, you are at her absolute mercy. The most you could do was try kicking and punching against the walls of her stomach, and even then she could easily shut you up by drinking some water and drowning you in response. Besides, that capsule is going to lose its effect in a few hours. Nothing is stopping her from just taking a nap, and by the time she wakes up, you will already be halfway through her intestines.