February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove, USA…

“So I put my shrinking ring to another use,” said the voice of Louise Waters, “With it, I fought my way into your cult, and by shrinking myself too small to be seen, I got in here undetected and reduced your colleagues to sub atomic size. Now you’re next. Be glad that the last words of the man you drove away from me have dissuaded me from shrinking you down to four inches and then biting off your rotten heads.”

“For God’s sake! Don’t do it!” said Judas Galt.

“You’ve never served God in your life. Your whole agenda has been the opposite. Yet you have the gall to use his name in vain now!” said the voice, “Carry that blasphemous appeal down to your new home then!”

Judas Galt, leader of the Sons of Molech was the last to go. Somewhere in a tiny microcosm on the floor of his old headquarters, he would live out his life in loneliness, where none of his accumulated wealth would do him any good at all.

Louise turned the ring on herself again, this time twisting it to activate the reverse setting. She enlarged to full size, and thought about that database that the Sons of Molech had brought to her attention. She soon had a suitable search window open and typed in two words: Phil Hermuth.

June 2005…

Phil was on his way home from work late one afternoon. The walk from the station to his home took him through a small nature reserve, which had scenic pathways and plants to look at. He heard a rustling sound in the garden to the left of the path and turned his head. Suddenly he found himself diminishing in size.

He ran into the garden on the right side of the path, as far from the source of the rustling as possible. It would have been quite a coincidence, if the rustling and the shrinking had been unrelated. Just as he reached some cover, he looked back and saw Louise Waters come crawling out of the opposite garden. She stood up and stepped over to look down in at him, towering with confidence.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“By using the database once owned by the people who caused 9/11,” she said, “They took you from me once. It seemed only fair that they helped me to get you back.”

“Did you … eat them?”

“I thought about it, but I sent them into wherever people go after being shrunken out of sight. The privilege of being eaten is reserved for you,” she said, kneeling down and moving her fingers in between the flowers, heading towards him.

“I told you I don’t want to do this anymore!” said Phil.

“And I told you that you were lucky I didn’t have you in my clutches. It’s hardly for you to decide anymore, is it? Besides, I’ve been watching you for some time, and you also told me you’d love to be chased through a garden. You seem to like this one, and you walk through it five days a week. Do you ever think of being chased through it?”

“I used to, and I have to admit that this is turning me on like nothing else,” said Phil, backing away out of reach, as other plants concealed him and blocked any further approach from her hand.

“You know you won’t escape me for long, but you’re so cute and keen for trying,” she said and stood up again, stepping carefully into the garden.

He looked up, as he continued to edge away from her, but she now had a direct vertical line of sight down to any place that he ran to. When she felt confident that the foliage could not offer him any immediate cover, he saw her reaching down and surrounding him with her hands. They closed gently together, herding him onto the palms and then rose up to hold him in front of her chest, while he looked up at her towering neck and then the mouth which had definite plans for him.

“Couldn’t we just have you put me into your mouth and role play it a bit and then let me out again?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Louise, “I know what you wrote in your last email, but you’ll just have to trust me that this will all work out for the best. You don’t have any choice now.”

She took him to his own house.

“It’s a lovely home you have here, especially the dining room,” she said, and licked her lips, “You do still like that, don’t you?”

“I’m … flattered that you can remember what I said about watching women eating and licking their lips,” he said.

“Are you going to be a gentleman and tell me where your cream and fruit are kept?” she asked.

He reluctantly complied, and watched her whipping cream and pulling stalks off strawberries. Then she left him on the cupboard top and went back to her car and came in with a pavlova she’d bought. She took it out, and lowered him into it without mercy or concern.

“Don’t let the stickiness bother you,” she said, “I’ll soon lick it all off. Don’t pretend you won’t enjoy that part of our dinner date.”