Lost & Forgotten (Story)

[khofer23]

LOST & FORGOTTEN (GTS)

▼SHRINK▼▼UNAWARE▼▼SHRINK▼

Andrew's feet dragged over the soft carpet as he made his way to the lecture hall. Well, not really a hall. Just a small room, almost unnoticeable, in a corner of the library. Miss Erbenova preferred smaller places like this. Not that she needed the space, anyway. She taught mostly optional classes, the once most students didn't bother with. Extra credit. At this moment Andrew curse himself for having taken on this elective. Not only was his head spinning from all the material, but he had to get up at six in the morning as well, just to get here in time. Not exactly conducive conditions to writing a test. Not that it mattered. He didn't sleep anyway. Like always, he had put off studying for far too long, telling himself that it wasn't that much material, and that he would get to it soon, anyway. Well, soon had been the last two days in this case. And nights. The last few hours had been especially bad. At this point, he had been running entirely on energy drinks, coffee, and his own blank nerves. Panic had gripped him tightly as he rushed through his notes again and again, trying to make sense of everything. The caffeine did more damage than good, in the end. With his body in overdrive, his mind was skittish and blurry, forgetting information as soon as it left his sight. The telltale signs of a headache only made it worse. When he had realized he couldn't concentrate anymore, Andrew simply gathered his remaining notes and bit the bullet. There was no way he was going to pass this one, and though he wanted to think this failure would be the lesson to finally drive the point home that he needed a decent schedule, he knew that it wasn't he had told himself that so many times already, he had lost count. Of course, as the horrid mixture of sugar and caffeine flooded through his veins, there was no way he would be able to sleep. And hanging around his room only made him even more anxious. Like the hours before going on a long trip. Not enough time to busy himself with something. But too much to just wait it out. In the end, he had decided to just get out and go to college early. Maybe he could find some shreds of focus there, in the study room where he wouldn't be able to distract himself from his incoming failure. Andrew nudged the door open, peeking inside. The room was still dark and completely empty. He was the first one in. With a sigh, he flicked on the lights. A second passed, then the sickly, bright white of old neon lights pierced through his eyelids, shaking any remaining sleepiness out of him. It wasn't a nice room. To be honest, it may have been one of the worst on the whole campus. The chairs were wooden and looked as if they had been dragged out of the ruins of some 1950s high school. The tables were equally rigid, the kind you could almost see the marks were some old curmudgeonly teacher had beaten the kids' fingers with his stick. Not pretty at all. To top it all off, the room was hidden behind multiple shelves and hallways, so that it was more a matter of if the cleaning crew came by, not when. There seemed to be always at least a layer of dust covering the floor, mixed with chalk and other residue. Andrew sighed and pushed himself forward. Even though he had free reign of where he could sit, he chose a chair at the back. Miss Erbenova was a nice lady, and a good teacher. He didn't want to have her look at him while he failed every single question. Sitting down somehow only made him more uncomfortable. The caffeine rush was slowly dying down, but the ache that appeared in its stead was worse. Andrew's skin seemed hypersensitive all of a sudden. He felt the rough wood press into his back, the edges of the small seat cut into his legs. To make things worse, a sharp pain throbbed through his temple. His body was demanding payback for what he put it through. He buried his head in his hands, shielding his eyes from the intrusive lights. Maybe he could call in sick Take the test another time Andrew was sure that it wouldn't be a problem at all for miss Erbenova. But would another couple of days really help If he was honest with himself, he would spend them mostly on getting his circadian rhythm back into order followed by maybe one session of studying that would just lead him right back to the situation he was already in. No, better to get it over with now. At least, he knew the outcome already. And it was just a test, after all. Not like he would fail the whole semester. Absentmindedly, he grabbed into his bag, pulling the jumbled notes he had took with him out. Andrew stared at them with empty eyes. The words made even less sense than before. Try as he might, he just couldn't compute the information. His mind was too tired. With a sigh, he crumpled them up and simply let them fall to the ground. The paper ball rolled across the dirty wood towards another desk, before coming to a stop at its leg. Andrew put his head in his hands again. Maybe he could sneak in at least a couple minutes of sleep, if nothing else. Five minutes of darkness sounded like bliss at the moment. But just as he was drifting off, the clicking of the doorknob wrenched him back into the waking world. Andrew was inexplicably annoyed. It was half an hour before class started and still someone felt the need to disturb him. But his anger immediately died down as he saw just who was standing in the door. It was Theresa. One of the girls in this class. Or rather, the only girl in this class he at least knew a bit. They were in the same major and had talked a couple of times. Met once at a house party. Nothing ever came of it, but Andrew couldn't help but feel drawn to her. How could he not She was beautiful. Straight, auburn hair flowed down and beyond her shoulders, which, combined with her bangs hiding her forehead, framed her face in an almost picturesque way. Her nose was sharp and pronounced, giving her a mature look. Her eyes, on the other hand, were smaller and oval-shaped. Andrew could have lost himself in the green of them for hours. Her lips were full, often curled in a slight, apathetic smile. Small creases around the corners of her mouth and eyes revealed that she laughed a lot. Her sense of fashion didn't diminish Andrew's attraction to her, either. She didn't dress gaudily, for one. Muted colours were more her style. Usually, her outfit was comprised of a sweater, brown or black most of the time, as well as black jeans or leggins. Then, there were her shoes. Or rather, sandals, since she wore them almost exclusively. And maybe a bit too much, as well. Andrew would never admit it, but her feet had kind of a magnetizing aura for him. More than once, he had found his eyes inexplicably drawn downwards, spying at the state of her sandals. For most of them, the word 'intact' would be the kindest way to describe them. Theresa didn't seem all to interested in new shoes, prefering to wear hers till they gave out, either from age or stress. She winced slightly at the garish neon light, searching for the light switch with one hand and flicking them off, again. Andrew let out a sigh. He had cursed himself before for turning them on, but had been too lazy to get up again to fix it. Thankfully, Theresa seemed to be just as tired as him, at least judging by the way her eyelids drooped slightly downwards. She looked up, and a slight smile appeared on her lips as she saw Andrew. "Hey!" That was all she said. Andrew managed to stammer a "Hey there" back, but it was more of a mumble as the words got caught in his own throat. A slight tinge of embarrassment filled him. How could someone fuck up a greeting Well, it seemed he could. Theresa didn't seem to have noticed. To his surprise, she even walked right between the desks towards the back, planting herself into the seat right next to Andrew. She let her large, brown handbag plummet to the floor next to her. The aged leather creaked and groaned. It was cracking in many places, the sewn on emblem of its manufacturer already unrecognizable. But it held as Theresa undid the strap holding it closed and pulled her phone out, as well as a single pen. The light blue shine of the cellphone's screen didn't seem to bother her as much as the neon lights had. Probably because she was used to the glow. Andrew couldn't see what she was doing but her finger swooshed down the screen again and again. She was probably browsing some social media platform. Her occasional smirks suggested the same. While Theresa absentmindedly looked through her phone, Andrew felt as if sitting on hot coals. Should he try talking to her Or would that be awkward They knew each other a little bit, but not really. Or was he already making it awkward by being quiet He gulped. Through his hazy mind, there was nothing he could think about that would make for interesting conversation. But the caffeine induced blur hanging over his head also made him somewhat more brazen. Andrew turned. "So, you're ready for this" he asked. The words felt oddly lame and bulgy as they came from his mouth and already he cursed himself for having spoken. "Huh" Theresa turned. Her hair was messier than usual and she brushed a stray strand behind her ear. "For the test," Andrew pressed on. There was no backing out of this conversation now, no matter how lame it was. "I barely studied at all. Pulled an all nighter just to have a chance." Theresa smirked. "Yeah, you look like it." "You look pretty tired too," Andrew said before he could stop himself. A mental groan echoed through his head. What a way to comment on her looks. Why not just tell her that she looks like shit But apparently Theresa hadn't noticed the unintentional barb. She leaned back into the chair, chuckling. "Well," she said, "I've only remembered, like, a week ago that we even had this test coming up." "That's more time than I spent." "It would be. But I've just looked over my folder once. Barely read it. Told myself that was good enough. And stressed out, like, the whole night about it." She laughed. "Just an elective though. I can afford flunking it." "Yeah, you're right," Andrew said, relieved at her casual tone, as well as the revelation that he wasn't the only one barely prepared. "Still," he murmured, "I hope miss Erbenova isn't going to be too disappointed." Theresa frowned slightly at that. "Yeah I hope so too." Both of them remained silent for a bit. Theresa went back to her phone, while Andrew desperately tried to think of any new conversation topics. But as he wracked his brain for anything, the pressure was taken off him as Theresa suddenly snorted loudly. "What is it" Andrew asked, only half curious and mostly thankful for having another excuse to talk. Theresa waved him closer, still laughing. He stood up and walked over towards her desk where she shoved her phone into his face. A picture of a dog, superimposed on a loaf of bread. The word 'cronch' was the only thing even resembling a joke. Still, the absurd image made Andrew snort as well. "God, I love these," Theresa mumbled through her chuckles. She opened another app on her phone. "Here, I saved a whole bunch!" She wasn't kidding. Her camera roll was filled with absurdist joke images and other pictures that barely made sense. Each one was worse than the next. Yet still, Theresa's laughter was contagious, and soon, both of them swiped through the phone, guffawing at the images. Wiping a tear from her eye, Theresa stood up. "Whew. Gotta go to the bathroom real quick. Watch my stuff" "Of course," Andrew replied, still chuckling himself. As she walked out, his eyes were once again drawn down to her feet. He could see the smallest bit of the underside of her heel. The skin was thick and slightly chipped. The leather of her sandal underneath seemed to be well acquainted with her feet. Dark imprints had formed where her heel rested on top of it. He still smiled dumbly as the door fell shut behind Theresa. He couldn't believe that his lame conversation starter had actually led to this. He blamed it on his tired mind that those images had actually seemed funny, but he could forget about his standards if it meant laughing with Theresa. Andrew looked down at her desk. She had chosen to sit next to him. Did that mean anything He shook his head. Probably not. Still, his mood had improved drastically. Not even the impending test could ruin it now. Maybe, just maybe, he could talk to her more often eventually, he might even get her number. Or at least, go out as friends. Yeah, he thought to himself, that would be nice. But his dreamy smile was wiped off of his face quickly as a lance of pain shot through his forehead. Instinctively, Andrew slapped his hands against his temple, desperately trying to locate the source of the ache. It felt as if his skull had been pierced by a rod of white hot iron. Was this a caffeine headache No, that couldn't be. Andrew was familiar with that sort of pain. This was magnitudes beyond that. He gagged, feeling sick. His knees were shaking. With one hand, he weakly tried to steady himself. But as he leaned forward, the support disappeared from under him. His hand, suddenly drenched with sweat, slipped away. Before he could even shout, Andrew lost his balance. With a crash, he fell to the floor. Still, the pain continued to pulse through his head. His vision got blurry. White and purple stars erupted before him, taking over his sight completely. "Help" Andrew moaned. His voice was completely inaudible. He tried again, searching for any bit of strength to call out. To get someone to notice. But no one was there. With a final moan of pain, Andrew lost consciousness. When he awoke, he still felt like garbage. The pain had faded somewhat, but it was seared into his nerves. Every time his heart beat, the pulse of blood threatened to rekindle the hot flames that had erupted in his skull. Andrew only slowly got himself together. He didn't want to open his eyes at all, fearing that even the slightest bit of light would send him into another fit of agony. But something felt wrong. Very, very wrong. Something heavy was lying on top of him. No, not just on top. All around. As if he had been wrapped in an extremely thick blanket. He felt smothered. But at the same time, he could clearly feel the cold wood beneath his back. Apparently he hadn't been moved. How long was he even passed out for It couldn't be more than a few seconds, right Otherwise, Theresa, or one of the other students, would have at least applied first aid, if not straight up called an ambulance. Finally, Andrew forced his eyes open. The world around him was blurry at first. Shapes swam into each other, nothing was definite. The only thing he could say for certain was that the room was still dark. Only the faint light of the rising sun brightened the room, bathing everything in a faint, blue glow. Since the ghastly neon tubes were still shut off, his guess seemed to be correct. No more than a minute could have passed between now and his fall. But as the world slowly came into focus, Andrew noticed something strange. Where was everything He was still lying on the floor, but he had passed out right near a desk. It had been a miracle he hadn't hit his head on its leg. But now, there was nothing. No desk. No chairs. Only the wood flooring beneath. Slowly, he forced himself upright, leaning on his elbows, and looked around, though his swimming head still made making anything out quite difficult. Truly, it looked as if someone had emptied the room of all of its furniture. He couldn't even see the blackboard. In fact, he couldn't see much of anything. Without its furniture, the room seemed larger. A lot larger. And completely featureless. Andrew slowly propped himself up higher. An uncertainty came over him. A dreadful feeling that something bad had happened. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something about the room wasn't right. As if he had been placed in a copy of it that was just slightly off. Suddenly, his elbow slipped out from under him and he fall onto his back. Andrew groaned. The strange headache had left him weak and exhausted. He had to get himself to a hospital, definitely. Whatever was going on, it was serious. More serious than this damned test, anyway. He would just leave and go to a doctor, the strange room and whatever prankster had taken out every desk while letting him lie on the floor be damned. Andrew clenched his teeth. And tried again to get up. But he couldn't. Not because he was too weak, but because his right arm was stuck, somehow. Andrew jerked his head around and his mouth fell open. A gap had suddenly opened between two floorboards. His arm had sunken into it when he had slipped. That ominous feeling kept growing inside him. How had an entire floorboard gone missing And how deep exactly was this floor It should have just been cement beneath the wood, since the parquet only served to hide the ugly foundation. But his arm wasn't lying on cement. Nor did it lie on anything. It didn't touch the ground, so deep was this hole. His concern growing, Andrew pulled upwards again, wrenching his arm out of the gap. No matter what was going on, there was only one thing he knew for sure: he wanted no part in it. What he wanted was to get out of this room. He forced himself to his feet, not even bothering to look for his bag. He would get it back once he had made sure his head was still alright. All he wanted to do was leave. He turned And found himself confronted by the utter lack of an exit. Andrew's jaw fell open once again. Finally, the world came into full focus. And what he saw chilled him to the core. The room seemingly stretched on forever. He couldn't even really make out the walls anymore. In the distance, blurry shapes rose high above him, grey and blocky. The colour of cement. There were no windows where there should be, but somehow the room was still filled with soft, early daylight. Panicking, he whirled around, searching desperately for anything familiar in this cruel, featureless expanse. But when he saw the landmarks, he immediately wished he hadn't. In the distance, four pillars rose into the sky. Four chipped, wooden, square pillars. Tentatively, Andrew looked up. All four of them flowed into a dark brown sky above him, the same colour of these pillars. An indescribable dread filled him. No, this couldn't be true this couldn't be happening. He tore his eyes from the looming structure. Only for them to fall onto the very thing that revealed the truth of this room. The truth he was desperately trying to dismiss. Before him, between two of these gargantuan pillars, was a hill. It didn't seem to be part of the ground. Rather, it looked as if an enormous being had simply dropped and forgotten it. It was brown, though lighter than the floor. It definitely wasn't the same material. Gigantic cracks cleaved through the surface of this hill. The top seemed like another layer entirely, only connected to the rest of the hill through a thin wall. It almost looked like a flap. Underneath it, only blackness. The hill seemed hollow. Gigantic caverns had to be within. But in the middle, there was something strange. A large square, a mural of some kind. Definitely man made. It was faded and cracked with age, yet it seemed somehow familiar. Andrew squinted. What was it He screamed as he recognized the logo. Such a simple thing revealed to him the truth of the matter. As he stared at the faded manufacturing logo of Theresa's handbag, everything became clear. Andrew spun around, taking the room in once more. The massive pillars in the distance were nothing but the legs of the desk the dark brown sky above him. The furniture hadn't vanished. Andrew simply couldn't make it out. The distance from him to another desk must have been more than a kilometer. He looked down at the missing floorboard. Of course, it was only a faint crack, maybe a millimeter and a half wide. Barely noticeable with the naked eye. Andrew screamed again. And again. Despair took hold of him. For somehow, in the middle of his classroom, he had been shrunk to nothing more than a centimeter. He didn't know how long he screamed. It might have been hours. It might have been only a minute. But he only stopped once his voice was hoarse, his throat aching. Panicking, Andrew looked for something, anything that could convince him this was only a dream, a stress and caffeine induced nightmare. But the more he looked at his surroundings, the more the world came into focus and the more undeniable the truth became. Small boulders littered the floor. Specks of dust, unnoticeable by the naked eye, but now they reached Andrew's knees. Dents in the wood, created by careless steps and neglect, became pitfalls. With horror, he saw a large, thick, brown string snake its way across the floor, blocking his way like a fallen tree. But it was nothing but some girl's hair, fallen out without notice and never cleaned up. This shouldn't be a surprise. He knew that this room was cleaned only rarely. But at this minuscule scale, all the dirt and grime and filth that had built up over months and years became starkly apparent. Tears welled up in Andrew's eyes and he fell to his knees. If he ever wanted to get somewhere, he not only would need to travel for days to traverse a single room, but he had to dodge the debris of human carelessness as well. An almost impossible task. Rumbling thunder descended upon him. Andrew could barely get out a squeak, before the ground began to quake. Softly at first. Rhythmically. The aged wood beneath him shook and groaned, vibrating every so often. But every new vibration was more intense, more violent than the last one. Once more, Andrew was forced on to his knees as he couldn't keep his footing under the barrage of tremors. Then, he heard something. It was distant and muffled, probably in the next room. But still, his tiny ears could pick up the sound of a terrifying crashing noise, completely in time with the quakes under him. Boom The crashing came ever closer. Every single one made the ground shake harder and harder. Andrew curled up, hiding his head under his arms. He had a terrible hunch at what was happening. But as long as he didn't see it, he could tell himself it wasn't real. Boom A second pair of crashes joined the first. like distant explosions, the crashes made his ears ring and the shaking intensified even further. Then, there came another pair. And another. And another. Boom It wouldn't have been possible for Andrew to stand anymore. He felt as if he was in a doll house, shaken by an impatient child. Even lying down, he couldn't hold his position. With the next quake, he was thrown to the side and tumbled over the floor, only the boulder sized dust mites breaking his fall somewhat. With teary eyes, he looked up towards the size of the room he guessed the door would be. He knew what was coming next. With a deafening crash, one of the walls of the room fell away. The door swung open and in its frame, there she was: Theresa. At least, Andrew guessed it was her. Everything above her knees was blurry, his minute eyes not capable of seeing this far. Only the two large pillars of black and a big splotch of brown above made him think of her clothes. Her upper torso and face weren't even visible to him, vanishing behind the gargantuan desk above. But her feet those were all too clear to him. He'd recognize those aged, grimy sandals anywhere. Slowly, she raised her foot. Too slowly. As if she was deliberately pacing her steps. But it didn't look like she was. All of her movements were smooth and practiced, just slower. As if Andrew observed everything in slow motion. Her ankle was the first thing that raise, her muscles relaxing. Like a crane, her leg pulled her foot upward, the massive sole dangling carelessly in the air. The sandal barely held on, the cracked straps threatening to rip at a moment's notice. Andrew could even make out minuscule rifts in the leather slowly widening. Those sandals wouldn't last all that long anymore. Slowly, oh so slowly, she moved her foot forward. A single step. Yet, when her sole finally connected again, the shockwave blasting through the room knocked Andrew on his back. Dust and dirt flew all around him, coating him in grim. But he couldn't look away from the horrifying titan walking towards him. Her foot flattened against the sole, squished tightly together under her unimaginable weight. The sandal itself compressed beneath her. Her toes slightly dug into its sole to keep their grip on its worn out form. The imprints he had noticed before now seemed like craters. An unbidden thought entered his mind, and he saw himself under the sole, Theresa carelessly stepping down. Would he die slowly, ground into paste, sticking to her sole Or would he simply explode in an instant, his body incapable of bearing the allcrushing weight of sixty to seventy kilograms Mindless panic gripped Andrew and he fought himself to his feet and scrambled forward. He needed somewhere to hide, or at least be safe from the violent blasts of air each of Theresa's steps unleashed. One of the pillar-like desk legs was thankfully close by. It would shield him, if only a tiny bit. While he ran, he noticed again the odd smothering feeling around him. He couldn't just run. No, he waded forward as if he had become engulfed in some strange, invisible liquid. Then it hit him: the air itself was fighting his progress. As tiny as he was, the air pressure hadn't changed, and his body was used to being much larger. Like this, even oxygen became an obstacle. Andrew barely made it in time for the next crashing footfall, desperately diving behind the desk leg as dust blasted past him. Another crash soon followed, making his ears ring again. How long could his eardrums take this punishment, he wondered. Judging by the ringing they had already been damaged quite severely. With the next booming step, the ground was bathed in shadow as Theresa's titanlike body loomed above. For a moment, she was utterly still. Then, a deafening sound erupted above Andrew. Words. Theresa was speaking, but her voice alone was louder than jackhammers. The slowed flow of time distorted her words as well. But he could still make out what she was saying. "Huh Where'd he go" Those few words was all it took to shake Andrew out of his panic. Even though he could barely understand her, even though she loomed above him at an impossible size, even though he couldn't even make out more than her leggings-clad legs, he knew she would save him. She had noticed that he was gone. And she would be his way out of this damnation. Andrew rose to his feet, filled with grim determination. Her sandals left much of her foot exposed. All he needed to do was to get to her. Despite his reduced size, he was certainly still large enough to give her toes a few good punches. That would get her to notice him, surely. Theresa's ankle twisted and her gargantuan form slid to the side behind the desk and onto her chair. The worn soles of her sandals squeaked as they were dragged over the wood. The rush of air as she bend down began as a low rumble in the distance, but when she finally sat on her seat, a wave of thunder emanated from the impact. It rolled over Andrew and he had to clasp his hands over his ears again to not be deafened by the low, reverberating sound. Instinctively, he shut his eyes. The massive clap, despite moving as slow as a wave at sea, had made him freeze. But as he opened his eyes, he grinned. There, only a few hundred meters in front of him, were Theresa's bare toes. To him, at least. They were his salvation, he just knew it. Once he had reached them, he would get the giantess' attention and get out of this mess. The thought that it was just as likely for him to perish underneath the massive digits was firmly banished from his mind. He couldn't afford to doubt himself. Or Andrew would forever remain on this dusty floor, doomed to join the mites and dirt. With one final deep breath, he steadied himself and broke out into a sprint. The thick, stale air pushed against him, trying to keep him from his goal, but Andrew wouldn't let up. Even though his muscles ached at the strange resistance, he pushed himself further and further. In the distance, Theresa's toes twitched and flexed with a mixture of boredom and antsiness. With no one to talk to, she must have returned either to her phone, or to think about the test. Though everything above her shins was blurry to Andrew, he could see the enormous feet in stark detail. The ridges of her toe prints. The way her skin stretched as she ground her toes further into the small craters in her sandal. Her nails weren't exactly in the best condition, chipped and with just a little bit of grime underneath. And as he got closer, Andrew had to confront the smell. His mouth curled in disgust. The leather wasn't just old, it was rank! Thick tendrils of this stench, old leather mixed with ages of salty sweat seeping into it, forced themselves into his nostrils. It felt as if he had hit a wall, the air appearing even thicker than before. Andrew stumbled, the smell robbing him of his coordination. Tears streamed down his face. His lungs were burning. How pathetic. Try as he might, the stench was to much for him to bare. His vision blurry from his tears, Andrew looked forward. Only fifty meters or so were between him and Theresa's foot. But if he got any closer now, he was sure he would pass out. Even now, the smell was hard to handle. 'Goddammit,' he thought to himself punching the floor out of frustration. What was he to do now That was when the ground began to quake again. Like before, a twin pair of low explosions echoed from outside the room, becoming louder and louder, until Andrew's ears hurt. With a crack, the door swung open, slamming against the wall. The minuscule man on the ground winced as the eardrum shattering noise overwhelmed him. Pain erupted in his head. Still, he forced himself to see who else had come in. There, in the distance, he could make out a shape. Two titanic pillars of flesh rose into the sky, ending under a dangerously short, red skirt. The island-like feet stretching out at the base a massive pair of feet was clad in a pair of black sandals. Andrew's mouth fell open as he continued to stare upward at the enormous woman. He wasn't even shocked as his eyes wandered past her white panties, and up her torso. Above her hips, her shape became blurry and faded, but he could see at least the colours of her clothing. The shirt she was wearing was white and seemingly stretched endlessly into the sky though the gigantic pillars of her arms at her sides told him, it was sleeveless until the pale beige of her face replaced it. Down the side of her head, a long flow of golden hair, doubtlessly done up in her usual, elaborate braid, fell down her shoulders. There was no doubt in his mind who had entered. It was his teacher Yana Erbenova. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a wave of air and sound rolling over Andrew, as Miss Erbenova simply uttered a single sentence. "Good morning, Theresa." Her thick, eastern european accent made the words sound harsh and forceful. As if that hadn't been enough, she turned and started walking. He could hear the leather of her Sandals creaking and groaning. This wasn't the first time he had seen her wear these, but he never had paid much attention to them. But now Andrew was forced to acknowledge that they were in even worse condition than Theresa's. The thin, worn out strap holding her foot to the sole was screaming as it cracked in real time with every, agonizingly slow step the gigantic teacher took. Every time her thick, meaty soles rose upwards, the sandals clung to them for a few seconds. When it fell, Andrew could see the sandal shine with sweat. And even this far away, the sour aroma of her feet wafted over to him, making him gag. "Good morning, Miss Erbenova," Theresa said, oblivious to her tiny co-ed writhing in pain at her every word. Another explosive thud rolled over Andrew as his teacher put her bag onto her desk. Swiftly, she unclasped the small, metal buckle and pulled out a stack of paper. "Are you alone A few others have already written to me. Something must be going around, apparently everyone has the coughs." Miss Erbenova's slight giggle felt like boulders rolling downhill straight toward him. "Andrew was here a minute ago. He must have gone to the bathroom, I'm sure he's gonna come back. Especially since he left his stuff here." "Glad to hear it. Well, I think we can begin already. Andrew can write a few minutes longer if he's not all too late." Andrew winced as the massive legs turned and stomped towards him. There was no way he could clasp both his ears and his nose shut, so hi simply opted to bury his face into the ground. The layer of dust covering it at least served to dampen the horrific stench a little bit. Still, he was mesmerized by Miss Erbenova's approach. The strange dilation of time made every single movement of hers feel weighty and purposeful, even though he knew she was simply casually strolling towards him. Her feet sent thunderous shockwaves over him every time they fell to the ground. The creaking of the leather sole only got louder. With shock he saw that her sandals were covered in minuscule creases and ridges. She must have been wearing them for years! Above, her hips swayed from side to side, her gigantic thighs bathing him in their shadow. Then she stopped, right as her foot crashed down in front of the desk. Paper rustled above him. "Here you go. It's just the one sheet, though if you need extra paper, feel free to ask." "Thank you. How long do I Oh!" Theresa yelped as Miss Erbenova laid the test down on her desk. Andrew could only hear something clanging above him. As if she had pushed something with her finger. A moment later, he felt a cold shadow form over him. With terror, he looked up. --- Something massive fell down towards him, something long and thin and black. Theresa's pen. --- Miss Erbenova must have knocked it down. And now, it was coming right at him. Adrenaline kicked in once more as he forced himself to his feet. Despite the pen moving only slowly through the air, he was just as much as a disadvantage, fighting against the air and nauseating stench as Andrew flung himself to the side. Not a moment too soon, either. The pen hitting the floor blasted him away, sending his tiny form flying several meters. It felt as if a grenade had exploded right next to him. His ears were ringing and he gasped for breath, only to cough as he sucked in the stale stench of the two giantesses' feet. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll get it," Miss Erbenova's deafening voice rang out. The shadow above him became larger. As she bent down, Andrew could see the soles of her sandals flattening as she shifted her enormous weight on top of them. Her titanous hips rushed down towards him and Andrew couldn't help but stare as the fabric of her panties filled up the sky above him. Slowly, --- she moved her hands towards the massive, black pen. --- Movement exploded in Andrew. The stench still burned his lungs, and he was sure he wasn't going to last long anymore, trapped between both of these giantesses' feet. But there, right in front of him, was an escape route. He sprinted forwards as Miss Erbenova's fingers curled around the pen and jumped. His hands grasped the large, metal holding pin, just in time before his teacher carried it upwards. The whole world blurred before his eyes and all Andrew could do was to hold on to the pen and hope his stomach would hold out. A moment later he realized that he didn't have to. As his gargantuan teacher lifted the pen, the air pressure on top of him intensified so much that his entire body was pressed against the black pillar. He almost felt as if he was being dragged through water. He flew upwards and the air flowed past him, rushing in his ear. An odd tingle overcame him and spread over his entire body. It felt familiar but Andrew couldn't quite place where he knew the feeling from. Then, with another thunderous thud, the pen landed on the desk and Miss Erbenova's released her grip. Andrew rolled off of the pen, glad that he had managed to overcome the vertigo and keep his stomach's contents inside himself. Moaning with nausea, he opened his eyes. The shadow of Miss Erbenova's hand still engulfed him, though it retreated. Somewhat at least. Was it just the dizziness or was she moving even slower than before --- And when had her thumb become this large --- Andrew shot upwards, --- his mind clearing as he stared in renewed terror up at the gigantic hand above. Her thumb alone was now wider than he was tall! --- That strange tingle, he knew where he had felt it before. When he had shrunk the first time. Then, his head had been killing him, the pain so strong that he almost didn't remember the tickling all over his limbs. This time, he had only lost half his height, instead of ninetynine percent of it, so obviously the feeling would be weaker. But these thoughts only barely entered Andrew's head. The fact that he was still shrinking, dwindling away into nothing utterly dominated his mind. His desperate situation had become even more frightening. And everything had gotten a lot more intense as a result. He was probably only five millimeters tall now, and the strange dilation of time had become even stronger. For every second the giants experienced, five passed for him. The air pressure weighed on him as if he had been buried under a mountain of lead. His field of vision had become even smaller, everything above Miss Erbenova's chest fading into a blur of shapes and colours. And even the slightest of her movements made noise. As her fingers retracted, he could her the wrinkles forming in her skin. Her breaths were deep bursts of noise far above him. Every Time she sucked in air, he could hear it whistling. "Sorry again, Theresa. You may start already." Her words were now almost distorted beyond understanding as the small sentences got stretched out over a whole minute. But that gave Andrew time to think. He turned, looking towards the other titan sitting at her desk. He couldn't even make out her face, but her massive hands were resting on the wood, twitching ever so slightly. She had to be nervous. From what she told him earlier, she knew that she wasn't prepared for the test. But that didn't matter to Andrew right now. No, he had found something much more interesting. A strand of her dark, brown hair fell down the side of her arm, ending just above the desk. His route to finally make himself noticed. Up here, the stench of their feet didn't reach him. The air was almost clean, in fact, if heavy with dust. His mind cleared up and the burning in his lungs slowly softened. He started to run when Theresa nodded at Miss Erbenova, slowly raising her hand to grab her pen. Thankfully, as slow as everything moved, Andrew had ample time to get away, though it was still exhausting. His steps carried him millimeters at a time, while Theresa's hand was only a few inches away. In the end, he had to break out into a sprint to dodge the wall of flesh coming down on him, lest he'd be pulverized between her fingers. He lay there, panting while Theresa grabbed her pen and slowly brought it towards her face, doubtlessly sticking the end between her lips to chew on it as she thought over the questions. The mountainous Miss Erbenova had meanwhile turned to return to her own desk. Her footsteps still rang in his ears, but they didn't hurt as much as before. Whether that was a good sign or not, Andrew couldn't tell. And he didn't want to think about it, either. What mattered now was to get Theresa's attention. Andrew was shaken out of his thoughts as another shadow fell over him. The reason was hard to miss. Theresa's elbow bent and her thick arm slowly collapsed onto the desk, pen at the ready. He scrambled to his feet. Not even up here, he was safe. Even the slightest of Theresa's movements threatened to turn him into a bloody smear on the dusty wood. Panicked, he ran and ran, edging ever closer to safety. Just before the gargantuan limb buried him underneath, Andrew desperately flung himself to the side to avoid being smothered in the fibers of her sweater. He gritted his teeth, alive but frustrated. A straight line towards the titan would be impossible, he realized. He would have to stick to the edge of the desk or he would doubtlessly be crushed, either by her hands or by her pen. Slowly he got up, already winded and not a centimeter closer to his goal. Andrew trudged forward, careful not to get to close to Theresa's arm. If she so much as twitched, he might be thrown all the way off the table, with no hope of ever getting back up. To top it off, he knew he had to save his strength for the inevitable climb up her hair, which meant that he couldn't run. The trek became long, arduous, but most of all, boring. Despite the surreality of his surroundings, Andrew couldn't help it. Everything looked the same. The old, worn out wood stretched out endlessly before him, and Theresa's sweater was almost the same colour. With as slow as the giantess moved, it looked as if time was standing still. Only the occasional tremor in her muscles told him that she was moving at all. After what felt like an hour, Theresa's face finally took on shape above him, giving Andrew at least something to look at. What he saw almost made him laugh. Theresa's eyes were filled with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment. The same expressions he would probably be wearing, if he had the opportunity to take the test himself. Her gaze was fully trained on the paper before her, though, dashing any hope that she might see his minuscule body. It took another thirty minutes for Andrew to finally reach the thick strand of brown hair. Sweat pearled down his forehead. The heady air was much more oppressive than he had first felt, but after this much time simply spent fighting against the air pressure while walking, he realized just how hot it actually was in this room. Still, he had finally reached his goal. Now all that was left was to actually get up to Theresa's face. One last time, he looked up, but the titan was just as concentrated on her paper than before. There was no other way. Slowly, Andrew approached the hair. Immediately, he realized two things. First, --- each individual hair was as thick as a steel wire to him. --- Sturdy enough to climb, thankfully. The other thing was, how shiny they were, though not in a good way. A thin film of sweat and oil coated them, making the strands slippery, at least in the parts where they were smooth. The last time Theresa had washed her hair must have been two days ago. It wasn't as terrible as down at her feet, but the smell wasn't exactly pleasant. Still, the minuscule ridges all over the hairs would grant him enough opportunities to grab hold. It was up to Andrew, whether he could actually make the climb. Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of a strand of hair, digging his fingers into the ridges and pulled himself upward. For a moment, his feet hang loosely in the air, kicking and searching for hold. Eventually he managed to get them into the ridges and steadied himself. Andrew sighed. He could see her ear far above him. It looked like it was miles away. But he had no choice but to go up there. While Theresa worked on her test, occasionally chewing on her pen, Andrew clawed himself upward, millimeter by millimeter. The ridges in her hair were just large enough that he could fit his fingers inside, though he often had to first dig out the residuary oil and dirt, particles so small that no ordinary human would have every even noticed them. Soon, his hands were slick and holding onto the hair got harder with each moment. His legs became sticky as well, constantly rubbing over the oily cuticles. But that wasn't the hardest part. No, what really exhausted Andrew on his climb was, that every so often he had to either change his position or push away the small flakes of dandruff coating Theresa's hair. They might have been barely noticeable before, but now they were bigger than his own hand. Andrew didn't want to think too much about what he was touching as he threw them behind him. Progress was slow and it felt as if he had already been climbing for hours, though by now he couldn't tell how much time had passed anymore. The dilation was messing with his brain. Maybe he had been climbing Theresa for five minutes, maybe twenty, or maybe longer. There was no way he could tell. What he could tell, however, was that he had barely made it halfway. Andrew had just reached Theresa's chin. Her breaths had become louder and louder as he had gotten closer, and by now he could hear the soft sound of her tongue wriggling in her mouth. Looking over, he saw that the tip of the massive muscle poked out between her lips just a bit as she nervously chewed on her own cheek. Her eyes, massive though they were, betrayed how uncertain she was with her work. Andrew sighed. He wished he was in her position right now, his biggest worry being some stupid, optional test that didn't matter anyway. With a sigh, he got back to climbing. Her hair had only become oilier the higher he got and he couldn't afford to waste more time. But just as he turned his back to her face, a sigh of catastrophic proportions escaped Theresa and she slammed her hand on to the table, her pen clattering against the wood. The hot breath ruffled the strands of hair Andrew found himself in, and in a matter of seconds, the sticky keratin tendrils wrapped around his leg. Desperate, he pulled upwards, but it was no use. --- He was trapped in Theresa's hair. --- As the massive titan slowly got to her feet, clutching the paper in hand, it turned out that was a good thing. From what Andrew could see, she looked defeated and embarrassed. Her movements reflected her mood. She was erratic and jerky, obviously not wanting to look Miss Erbenova in the eye with the mess she had made on the paper. So her head was slightly angled down as she trudged through the room towards her teacher's desk. Every single step was an earthquake. Her hair bounced and fell over itself, further wrapping around Andrew who was soon enveloped in a nearly unbreakable cocoon. He struggled, but the more he moved, the more the oil clung to his body. "Oh Already done" Miss Erbenova's thick accent threatened to pierce his eardrums as he was closer to her than ever. Despite her distorted voice, Andrew clearly heard the hidden disappointment in her voice. "Yes, Miss Erbenova," Theresa mumbled. Each time she opened her mouth, he could hear the click of her jaw and the clanging of her teeth clattering together. Every consonant was a violent explosion of noise, every vowel a flood of air. Miss Erbenova sighed. "At least you took the test, Theresa. Everyone else seems to have gotten sick, or decided that they didn't want to even try," Her eyes slowly wandered over to Andrew's seat. His bag was still lying next to his chair. "I hope the boy is alright. Whatever happened to him that he just left everything here A shame." "Yeah" Theresa mumbled again. She leaned forward and deposited the paper in front of Miss Erbenova. Andrew only half payed attention to the titans' conversation as he kept trying to free himself. The hair around him had become a knot, four or five strands losing themselves in each other and fixing him to his place. It was absolutely useless. Like this, he would never escape. As if on cue, the tell tale tingle returned. Andrew's eyes widened as the wiry hairs got bigger and bigger around him. "No, no, no!" he screamed, desperate for someone, anyone to hear him. He turned and looked upwards. Theresa's ear was only centimeters above him but to him it might as well have been kilometers. Still, he yelled his lungs out. "Theresa! Please, I'm down here! Help me, oh god, please help me!" And then, the now incomprehensibly huge girl raised her hand. Slowly, oh so slowly. With his diminished size, time had once more gotten slower to him. The simple act of raising her hand stretched itself out unbearably slowly. So much so, that at first Andrew didn't even notice. --- All he could do was to hold on to one of the enormous hairs after he had shrunk out of the knot and scream. --- He couldn't bear becoming even smaller. Someone had to help him. And when he, after minutes of yelling, finally felt that large, familiar shadow engulfing him once more, Andrew couldn't believe it. He turned forward. There it was. --- Theresa's massive, endless palm, an outstretched finger coming right toward him. --- She had heard him! A kind of relief that he couldn't have imagined flooded through Andrew. The titanous digit seemed to glow in holy light as the cold neon reflected of her skin oils. But the minuscule man didn't care. He didn't care how gigantic she was, how dirty her fingernails were. He didn't care that he could discern the individual ridges of her fingerprint, --- each one already half as tall as he was and deep enough for him to get stuck. --- No, he only cared that he had finally been noticed. Saved. Everything would be alright, now that Theresa had found him. The finger got closer and closer and Andrew cheered at its approach. Soon, --- there was nothing he could see but the gargantuan tip. --- It closed in. Hovered before him. Parted the strands of hair that Andrew was holding on to. And scratched her cheek. The noise was strange as she dug more dirt and grime underneath her fingernail. Andrew could hear the individual flakes of dead skin being ripped off. And it came with the terrifying realization that she hadn't noticed him at all. Only an itch on her cheek, nothing more. Andrew broke. Every dam that held his fear in check until now burst open and released a flood of yelling, begging, and crying. His vision blurred as tears poured out of his eyes, trying desperately to be loud enough for the oblivious giantess to notice him. Her finger was so close to him. He only needed to reach out and The finger moved down. Agonizingly slowly, it fell toward him, all the while scratching her cheek. --- The massive digit already encompassed his entire world, but now it threatened to smother him completely. --- And there was nowhere he could turn to escape. Andrew was helpless, --- only able to stare up at the gigantic fingerprint that would be his demise. --- Crying, he closed his eyes. He didn't want to see it coming. Like this, he could still pray for a miracle. The wall of flesh hit him with uncompromising force, brushing him out of Theresa's hair like a dust mite. Andrew lost his grip on the strands of her hair and sailed forward. At the last moment, Theresa had angled her finger in such a way that she didn't push him into her cheek but rather pushed him away from her. The thick air almost carried him, now only a millimeter tall, as he slowly fell down toward Miss Erbenova's massive desk. Andrew turned his head. There was Theresa's face. Beautiful and massive. And completely oblivious to him. As he dropped, she turned slowly, completely indifferent to his existence, and went back to her desk to grab her things. One step was all it took for her to become a blur in the distance and in his heart Andrew knew that this would be the last he'd ever see of the beautiful girl he had just today planned of asking out. This was his end. Either the fall would kill him, or worse, he would survive. Doomed to be a speck of dust in this endless room for the rest of his life. When he hit the desk, Andrew winced. It didn't hurt much at all. The floor was softer than wood, though not by much. And it crinkled every time he so much as flinched. Of course, --- the white expanse he had landed on was Theresa's test. The massive lines of blue and black stretching outward told him as much. Even a single letter of handwriting was now taller than him. --- Andrew looked around, trying to orient himself. His field of vision had become unimaginably limited. He could barely see the end of the sheet of paper he was standing on, but everything beyond dissolved into blurry nothingness. Most of what he could see was brown. The brown of the walls, the floor, the bookshelves. In the distance, a cosmic distance away from him, was the massive, black and brown blob that had once been his crush. He barely even registered her thunderous footsteps anymore. His ears had become to small to pick up the frequency. But he could feel the vibrations. And he could only thank whatever gods there were that he hadn't landed on the floor. As he stared after Theresa, mesmerized, Andrew didn't notice another shape emerging behind him. Clasped in Miss Erbenova's hand was a pen. A minuscule drop of red ink pearled at its tip. It tore itself off and fell right toward the tiny student. It landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Only moments later, Miss Erbenova jabbed her pen down right next to him. The impact send microscopic splotches of ink flying everywhere, sprinkling Andrew as he was knocked back by the blast. He tumbled over the paper, landing on his face. His entire body ached. The scratching of the felt tip against paper made him look up. The pen slowly rotated in place in an intricate pattern. The symbol was far too large for him to decipher, but judging by the colour, Miss Erbenova was marking a mistake. Distant thunder rolled over him, maybe a sigh, maybe a natural disaster. There was no difference anymore. --- The massive tip edged closer toward him. --- She was finishing the glyph, every stroke taking her multiple minutes to finish. Andrew lay directly in her path. Her pen would wander directly over him, but he didn't care anymore. The last few hours of his life had robbed him of any hope of ever returning to normal. And at least, being crushed by her pen would be quick. He closed his eyes. The scratching got closer. Closer. Closer And stopped. Andrew opened his eyes. The massive felt tip encompassed his entire field of vision. But slowly, it withdrew, rising upwards. Andrew let his head fall back onto the ground, barely restraining himself from screaming. Not even now that he had accepted his death would this world let him go. Tears filled his eyes again. And he didn't notice that Yana Erbenova was staring right at him. A few seconds earlier Yana held her sigh in until Theresa had left the classroom. The girl obviously knew that she hadn't exactly performed well and didn't need that rubbed in her face. But by god, what a mess. Yana looked over the paper once more. From the five questions, Theresa had answered three. And only one of them correctly. She would have to have a talk with her. Even if this was an elective, there was no excuse for turning up this unprepared. She raised her head and looked around the now empty room. That talk probably had to extend to everyone in this class. If there was one thing in Theresa's favour, it was that she had actually showed up and faced the music. None of the others had. Although Yana's eyes wandered over to the other desk. Andrew's bag still lay there, untouched. Something bad must have happened, she thought. Even if Andrew wasn't the most attentive, she doubted he had decided not to show up at the last minute, only to leave his stuff here. She could only hope that he was alright. Sighing again, she returned her gaze to the test in front of her. Yana wanted to get this over with. Thankfully, Theresa had made at least that an easy task. She jabbed her pen down to the first question, writing a big, red 'F' next to the entire passage. Not even close. But as her pen met the paper, Yana's eyes were drawn to something else. Something utterly minuscule was thrown to the side, skidding over the test. She squinted, but couldn't recognize what it was. It looked like an oddly coloured piece of dust. Maybe a tiny piece of plastic, or a flake of a book. She shrugged her shoulders. It didn't matter anyway. She simply slammed her palm down and decisively swished the tiny speck of dirt away from her desk. When the gigantic palm shook the desk, Andrew was relieved. Apparently he would be getting his sweet oblivion nonetheless. Maybe the universe had allowed itself one final joke before it wiped him out. Taunting him. Not that he cared anymore. --- Seeing the gigantic wall of Miss Erbenova's palm rush towards him, --- he was sure he couldn't have outrun it even if he tried. This was it, then. He closed his eyes and almost smiled. Finally, everything would be over. But once more his hopes were dashed as he wasn't annihilated beneath her palm. True, it rolled over him. He should have died. But instead, a minuscule crease in her hand swallowed him up, gripping him softly. Andrew was carried away, rushing toward the edge of the desk, before he was sent flying. He was utterly stunned as he saw the desk slowly gliding away from him. Another cruel joke. The world seemed utterly determined to make him a speck of dust on the floor for all eternity. Not even when he tried to die, he could. Surely the fall wouldn't kill him either, now. The air was so thick that he floated like a feather, falling downward agonizingly slowly. He would never pick up enough speed for the fall to become fatal. He didn't know how long he stared upward at his teacher. There was nothing else to look at except the blurry brown drabness of the room. Miss Erbenova soon faded as well. The last person he'd ever see. From now on, he would live on the floor of this room. Maybe some mite would eventually devour him. Otherwise, he would have to live from the dust and dampness that collected in here. Maybe sometimes, a student would drop a crumb of bread on the floor. He wondered how many years it would take for the next class to begin. Was he still aging normally Or was he doomed to endure millenia of this existence Andrew didn't notice the smell at first. With his mind elsewhere, contemplating his fate, it ambushed him. Only when he had fallen far enough, its tendrils forced themselves into his nostrils. He gagged, and the abject horror of what was happening replaced Andrew's deathwish. He turned and for the first time looked where exactly he was falling. The view below filled him with terror. He tried to scream again, but the smell choked every word he could have possibly uttered. Andrew was falling right toward Miss Erbenova's Sandals. The teacher had kicked them off at some point, her titanic, meaty soles resting next to them. Desperately, Andrew flailed around in the vain hope of changing his trajectory. But the air was so heavy and the soles so large that there was no way for him to avoid this place. With every second that passed, with every second that he got closer, the smell became more and more intense. Before, it had felt as if he had run against a wall. Now, he felt buried, completely encased by the stench of old sweat, leather, and dust. His mind blanked out. So strong, so disgusting was the smell that he could no longer grasp any rational thought. Only one goal existed in his mind: get away! Find somewhere else to die. Anywhere but here. His wishes weren't heard. Inevitably, he fell downwards, landing right next to the now spire like strap that would go between Miss Erbenova's big and second toe. It pierced the sky, utterly dominating everything in view. Andrew hit the old, grimy leather, landing in the dark, almost black imprint Miss Erbenova's foot had ground into it over the years. The smell was indescribable. It enveloped everything, was everything. There was no safe haven from it. Andrew had fallen right into the source. His body had slipped into one of the minuscule cracks in the leather, trapping him there. In mindless panic, he reached out to the edge. Maybe, just maybe he could still climb out. The soles weren't endless. He could get away. But a microsecond before he managed to grab onto the edge of the crack, the familiar, terrifying tingle returned and Andrew had to watch as he shrunk even further, the edge of his escape falling away into the sky. In this moment, Andrew ceased to be a person. He simply collapsed onto the floor, heaving for a breath of fresh air that would never come. Now, at less than 0.01 millimeter tall time moved only in fractures. Seconds became hours. Minutes became weeks. And after only a few minutes, there was nothing of the person that had once been Andrew left. Only a weak shell wearing his form, huffing the foot stench of his teacher, remained. It had taken all of ten minutes to correct Theresa's test. Yana stretched her arms. It didn't give her pleasure to mark the paper with a big red zero, but there was no way she could give points for this mess. Maybe this would wake the girl up and make her study more for the next time. Yana would have to repeat the test anyway, since only Theresa showed up. But that was a problem for another time. As she put the test and the rest of her utensils back into her bag, a light, sour smell reached her nose. Her mouth curled in disgust. She recognized the smell. Really, she desperately needed new shoes, but somehow she always forgot. She looked down where she had discarded her sandals. Maybe they had once been beautiful, but these days the word "ratty" served better to describe them. The straps were almost torn off and the once brown leather was darkened by ages of sweat and grime. Curiously, she bent down and picked them up. Her eyes watered at the smell as her nose got closer. Tentatively, she sniffed and recoiled. Yes, she definitely had to buy new ones. These sandals wouldn't do it anymore, and though she didn't give much on appearances, this was unconscionable. As she let the worn out sandals fall to the ground, Yana decided that she would get new ones right this second. --- What she hadn't noticed was the minuscule student that had been wrenched out of his prison sucked into her nostril. --- How could she have. The speck that had once been called Andrew was the size of a microbe. Invisible to the human eye. But it was still alive, and somewhat sentient. Enough so, that it was gripped with renewed terror, as after weeks imprisoned in Yana's sole, --- it was sucked into the gigantic black cavern of her nose, only to land face first in a tiny little piece of snot clinging to her nose hair. --- The speck sunk into the goopy substance, though not without a fight. It desperately flailed its arms and legs, trying to get its nose and mouth free of Yana's snot. And though Yana never knew what caused it, her nose suddenly started to twitch. She barely had enough time to get out a paper tissue and hold it to her nose. She sneezed, violently. Of course, she didn't pay it any attention and simply chucked the tissue into the nearest bin. But there, deep inside its folds, covered in Yana's slime, was the tiny red speck that had once been Andrew, torn to shreds in a microsecond by the apocalyptic force of its teacher's sneeze. A few days afterwards, missing posters went up. No one ever answered. A few months later, Andrews apartment was cleared out. And no one ever bothered again.

▲SHRINK▲▲UNAWARE▲▲SHRINK▲

[khofer23]

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