Feb 12 2001 - NEAR Shoemaker lands on Eros.

Feb 13 - Radio signal contact lost suddenly unexpectedly.

Feb 16 - Eros appears suddenly in Earth's orbit, apparently via wormhole. It disintigrates oddly in Earth's atmosphere causing meteor showers worldwide.

Feb 17 - The Reducening begins. 99% of men and 50% of women shrink. Global chaos.

Frb 19 - Almost all global leaders are newly sworn-in women.

Feb 21 - Athena Corp springs into action. An upcoming robotics company, it begins distributing robots, blueprints, and AI chips across the world to aid in emergency services: food/water production, distribution, energy, waste removal, etc. for free.

July 2001 - Worldwide state of emergency is lowered for the first time since the Reducening. AthenaCorp lauded for saving the planet.

2002 - The Year of Rebuilding. Earth focuses not on surviving and adapting anymore, but evolving and looking forward. AthenaCorp leads the zeitgeist, aquiring thousands of companies. It also forms a science branch, funding research into cloning and reproduction, and microtechnology. Lastly it begins producing luxury lifestyle homes and products for the size-afflicted population. AthenaCorp skyrockets in value.

1

Audio Recording File 001, ‘Project Cockroach’.

“... Ok, let’s do this. Athena, is this recording? …Good. I am Dr. McKeyla, I’m a research and development scientist at the NeoVancouver Size Institute. I’m also a geneticist, biochemist, ecologist, pharmacologist, and programmer. People tell me I’m a genius, so there’s that I guess.

It’s November 9th, 2008, 1:38am. It’s raining. I’m in my office at The Institute. I suppose if you’re a ‘genius’, you get your own little lab at the top science facility on the continent, with your own little window office on the 59th floor of Parthenon Tower, and your own little Sago palm which keeps trying to die. I have 6 degrees, 9 awards, I’m 33 years old and I can’t keep a houseplant alive.

Oh well. That’s what I have an intern for. And her coffee is not bad.

Anyways. I’m recording for a reason:

I have been assigned a project.

I don’t usually get assigned to things. Usually, I do my own thing and they leave me be. But the higher-ups at AthenaCorp really want me to do this thing. So here I am, doing it. 

Also, they’re going to pay me millions of dollars. Which is nice, of course. But I already have money.

Honestly? …I’ve just been bored lately.

Okay, where to start? That’s always the hardest part.

I’m just going to keep talking because I don’t know where to start, and nobody is going to listen to this anyway, and I’m having a glass of wine. How did this project come into being… I think it was over a few beers at the bar here one night after a big conference. I met Dr. Hayley, whom I had heard of but never met before. She’s our head of Nanotech (and Super-nanotechnology - which we both agree is a dumb word). She is so fucking smart. A real genius, I would say. Extremely talented in all regards. Especially that thing she did with her tongue after we -REDACTED-

Athena, edit that last part out. Anyway, we got talking, and I can’t remember exactly all that was said (I was writing it down on a napkin, however in the morning I found it unreadable) but she’s the one who developed the nanite solution for ‘de-aging’ which is all the rage right now. Won a fucking Nobel. The nanites help the body repair it’s cells, rejuvenating and extending life. Fascinating. 

I asked about her research and trials, and she mentioned testing on tinies (Yes, I’m going to use the non-scientific term for “size-afflicted people”. Get used to it). Officially, nobody is supposed to use tinies for tests, but everyone does it here. Permission is not hard to get - it just comes with a Non-Disclosure Act, and a wink. Athena, delete that last part.

-REDACTION ERROR-

Anyways, she said those trials had some very unfortunate results, and I said I can imagine. I asked if it worked on the tinies, and she said yes - kinda, sorta. I said what do you mean, and she said well, all kinds of stuff happened in testing, some of their bodies turned rock-solid, others turned to goo before they started to get it right. Some turned all rubbery. Most of them died pretty soon after. I said well if they were like that, at least they wouldn’t get squished, and I laughed and ordered another beer. Then I said, joking, we could market it, ‘The Wonder-Cure for Crushing: What The Tiny Population Needs’, and she laughed and said yeah.

Then we went back to my office and -REDACTED-

A few days later, Head Office pulled me into a meeting. It was an unusual assortment of people. 

Angella of course, my Department Head. She’s not a scientist, at all, she’s just a good manager. That’s okay, because she actually listens and takes care of us nerdy types, not like past managers. That reminds me, Athena, make a separate note:

-NOTE ADDED-

Anyway. Tanya was also there so I knew it had to be important. Tanya manages the whole Tower, top to bottom. She has a penthouse suite, second only to the Athena Suite, but usually she’s off somewhere on vacation (and she was sporting quite the tan that day). She’s snooty, but at least she pretends to care.

There were a few AthenaCorp reps, or analysts or some kind of background job who I had seen around here before. 

But there was a group of women I didn’t recognize. This wasn’t too unusual for me, I never have to connect with administration (plus I don’t get out much), but if I had to guess, by their suits I would say most likely government, possibly even military.

Then they started talking about our silly little idea from the bar about making a cure-for-crushing. Angella asked me if it could be done, I said probably yeah, and they assigned me this project with indefinite funding and resources. I was caught by surprise, but apparently they’ve been prepared to start this project for some time and were just waiting for the right moment. Which is now, apparently. After the meeting, I texted Hayley asking if she had anything to do with this, and she just sent me a winky emoji.

So that’s the big project. Make tinies un-squishable.

On the surface, It’s a surprise we hadn’t started on this goal earlier. After all, billions of tinies have been at risk for the last 7 years. But I suppose there were other things to worry about, like stabilizing the rest of humanity and the world after half the population suddenly shrank. Perhaps they were still holding out hope for a real cure, to return the men back to full size.

Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it before.

So anyway. The project. 

They gave me some rules. I don’t like rules, or working for people. But to be fair, there aren’t that many restrictions.

And did I mention they are paying me millions of dollars?

1. The end result should be a product that temporarily protects (tinies) from harm

2. Sign an NDA

How very AthenaCorp. Anyways, here I am. I have a bunch of Hayley’s notes from her project. She’s working on a different project at the moment, cloning technology I think. I’ve spent months studying her notes and ordering supplies, and writing thesises and running the math, so here’s the plan:

Combine nanites and dna-mutation to hold body cells together. Make it into a pill.

It occurs to me that if I’m successful, this will change the world. If tinies were impervious to harm, they probably wouldn’t want to live in the Domes anymore. And there are billions of them.

But, thinking about it realistically, I think I know what will really happen - HeraCorp will sell the product at a controlled rate, keeping the status-quo while making billions of dollars. Nothing will change except the company’s bank account, and the tinies may feel a little better about their little lives.

And I’ll probably get some kind of big, huge award, and see a piece of that money. A big piece. Works for me, honestly.

Athena, delete all that.

-DELETION ERROR-

1

Audio Recording File 001, ‘Project Cockroach’.

“... Ok, let’s do this. Athena, is this recording? …Good. I am Dr. McKeyla, I’m a research and development scientist at the NeoVancouver Size Institute. I’m also a geneticist, biochemist, ecologist, pharmacologist, and programmer. People tell me I’m a genius, so there’s that I guess.

It’s November 9th, 2008, 1:38am. It’s raining. I’m in my office at The Institute. I suppose if you’re a ‘genius’, you get your own little lab at the top science facility on the continent, with your own little window office on the 59th floor of Parthenon Tower, and your own little Sago palm which keeps trying to die. I have 6 degrees, 9 awards, I’m 33 years old and I can’t keep a houseplant alive.

Oh well. That’s what I have an intern for. And her coffee is not bad.

Anyways. I’m recording for a reason:

I have been assigned a project.

I don’t usually get assigned to things. Usually, I do my own thing and they leave me be. But the higher-ups at AthenaCorp really want me to do this thing. So here I am, doing it. 

Also, they’re going to pay me millions of dollars. Which is nice, of course. But I already have money.

Honestly? …I’ve just been bored lately.

Okay, where to start? That’s always the hardest part.

I’m just going to keep talking because I don’t know where to start, and nobody is going to listen to this anyway, and I’m having a glass of wine. How did this project come into being… I think it was over a few beers at the bar here one night after a big conference. I met Dr. Hayley, whom I had heard of but never met before. She’s our head of Nanotech (and Super-nanotechnology - which we both agree is a dumb word). She is so fucking smart. A real genius, I would say. Extremely talented in all regards. Especially that thing she did with her tongue after we -REDACTED-

Athena, edit that last part out. Anyway, we got talking, and I can’t remember exactly all that was said (I was writing it down on a napkin, however in the morning I found it unreadable) but she’s the one who developed the nanite solution for ‘de-aging’ which is all the rage right now. Won a fucking Nobel. The nanites help the body repair it’s cells, rejuvenating and extending life. Fascinating. 

I asked about her research and trials, and she mentioned testing on tinies (Yes, I’m going to use the non-scientific term for “size-afflicted people”. Get used to it). Officially, nobody is supposed to use tinies for tests, but everyone does it here. Permission is not hard to get - it just comes with a Non-Disclosure Act, and a wink. Athena, delete that last part.

-REDACTION ERROR-

Anyways, she said those trials had some very unfortunate results, and I said I can imagine. I asked if it worked on the tinies, and she said yes - kinda, sorta. I said what do you mean, and she said well, all kinds of stuff happened in testing, some of their bodies turned rock-solid, others turned to goo before they started to get it right. Some turned all rubbery. Most of them died pretty soon after. I said well if they were like that, at least they wouldn’t get squished, and I laughed and ordered another beer. Then I said, joking, we could market it, ‘The Wonder-Cure for Crushing: What The Tiny Population Needs’, and she laughed and said yeah.

Then we went back to my office and -REDACTED-

A few days later, Head Office pulled me into a meeting. It was an unusual assortment of people. 

Angella of course, my Department Head. She’s not a scientist, at all, she’s just a good manager. That’s okay, because she actually listens and takes care of us nerdy types, not like past managers. That reminds me, Athena, make a separate note:

-NOTE ADDED-

Anyway. Tanya was also there so I knew it had to be important. Tanya manages the whole Tower, top to bottom. She has a penthouse suite, second only to the Athena Suite, but usually she’s off somewhere on vacation (and she was sporting quite the tan that day). She’s snooty, but at least she pretends to care.

There were a few AthenaCorp reps, or analysts or some kind of background job who I had seen around here before. 

But there was a group of women I didn’t recognize. This wasn’t too unusual for me, I never have to connect with administration (plus I don’t get out much), but if I had to guess, by their suits I would say most likely government, possibly even military.

Then they started talking about our silly little idea from the bar about making a cure-for-crushing. Angella asked me if it could be done, I said probably yeah, and they assigned me this project with indefinite funding and resources. I was caught by surprise, but apparently they’ve been prepared to start this project for some time and were just waiting for the right moment. Which is now, apparently. After the meeting, I texted Hayley asking if she had anything to do with this, and she just sent me a winky emoji.

So that’s the big project. Make tinies un-squishable.

On the surface, It’s a surprise we hadn’t started on this goal earlier. After all, billions of tinies have been at risk for the last 7 years. But I suppose there were other things to worry about, like stabilizing the rest of humanity and the world after half the population suddenly shrank. Perhaps they were still holding out hope for a real cure, to return the men back to full size.

Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it before.

So anyway. The project. 

They gave me some rules. I don’t like rules, or working for people. But to be fair, there aren’t that many restrictions.

And did I mention they are paying me millions of dollars?

1. The end result should be a product that temporarily protects (tinies) from harm

2. Sign an NDA

How very AthenaCorp. Anyways, here I am. I have a bunch of Hayley’s notes from her project. She’s working on a different project at the moment, cloning technology I think. I’ve spent months studying her notes and ordering supplies, and writing thesises and running the math, so here’s the plan:

Combine nanites and dna-mutation to hold body cells together. Make it into a pill.

It occurs to me that if I’m successful, this will change the world. If tinies were impervious to harm, they probably wouldn’t want to live in the Domes anymore. And there are billions of them.

But, thinking about it realistically, I think I know what will really happen - HeraCorp will sell the product at a controlled rate, keeping the status-quo while making billions of dollars. Nothing will change except the company’s bank account, and the tinies may feel a little better about their little lives.

And I’ll probably get some kind of big, huge award, and see a piece of that money. A big piece. Works for me, honestly.

Athena, delete all that.

-DELETION ERROR-

Video file “Nanite early trial run 1”

The subject is injected with the serum. They soon start groaning, clutching their skin, and then vomiting. They fall down, curl into a ball and scream, apparently in great pain. Their body starts ejecting fluid from every orifice and their flesh discolors rapidly. 

Soon their breath leaves their body in a rasp, and they stop moving altogether. Several moments later, from out of frame, Dr. McKeyla cautiously prods the body with her pen. There is no response. She sighs, and after scribbling down some notes, uses her pen to slide the little body across the table and out of frame. There is a sound of an object landing in a trash bin. After some sounds of rummaging, she reappears with a spray bottle of cleaning fluid and some tissues, which she uses to clean off the tabletop.

The serum containing the nanites and other chemicals to affect the body will be injected intravenously to the test subjects. The nanitess, well, micro-nanites to be precise, should attach themselves to multiple cells, and the goal is to hold the cells together so the subject doesn’t go “squish,” as we say in technical science jargon.

The process up to that point will require a lot of trial and error. There are many impediments to overcome. For one thing, the body doesn’t naturally like little foreign objects floating around in its blood and will try to defend itself. 

///

Video file “Nanite early trial run 45”

The subject groans, twitches. Their face contorts into a grimace as their muscles strain, their fingers curling like claws. They twitch all over, and then freeze completely, like a statue. 

After a long moment, Dr. McKeyla brings her face closer, looking for any sign of movement. FInding none, she gently prods the man with her pen. He topples over, still rigid as an action figure. Dr. McKeyla sighs.

///

I have found the correct mixture of drugs to relax the body’s immune system just enough to allow the nanobots entry into the bloodstream. The body should then remember the nanobots and not treat them as a threat, for future doses, if I ever get it right - so far there have been few opportunities for a second dose.

An unforseen problem I’m dealing with is that I need to program the nanobots to attach themselves to body cells quickly and gently, without immediately disrupting the body’s basic state. Yes, the state - solid, liquid… goo…

~

Video file “Nanite early trial run 12”

The subject’s flesh begins to sag and then drip like honey. They look at their arms aghast as they melt. A scream tries to escape but turns into a gurgle as their face melts into their body. Soon they are nothing more than a flesh-coloured puddle.

Dr. McKeyla, with curiosity, uses her pen to stir it.

///

Video file “Nanite early trial run 119”

The subject looks around in panic as they start to sink slowly. Their flesh stretches, wobbles, as they droop to the ground. Their body slowly forms into a rounded, oblong lump, like a slug. Their eyes dart around fervishly, and they seem unable to speak.

Dr. McKeyla gives them a poke with her pen. They jiggle slightly like pudding. She pokes harder. They retain their shape, like rubber.

Dr. McKeyla takes several notes, mumbling about “possible uses”.

-NOTE ADDED-

///

Okay, I’ve finally got the introduction into the bloodstream right - subjects injected feel no physical change whatsoever. The nanobots attach themselves to the cells quickly and without issue. The serum is essentially balanced at this point.

Now to program the little robot spider arms to hold the cells together under pressure. More trial and error to come.

Athena, file a request for a new lab assistant, asap please. I can’t do the injections myself because the subjects are far too small to handle, and our current nurse… suffered an accident.

Video footage:

The tiny man on the table, who had injected the previous subjects, is preparing a syringe. Suddenly a huge coffee mug lands on him as Dr. McKeyla comes into the lab and crushes him by accident. She only notices a few minutes later after taking a sip and seeing the stain.

***

Athena, are you recording? Ok. So, this is my workspace:

The camera swings around a laboratory. The room is big enough for a few people to work in comfortably, but there is no one else there. It appears to be her private lab. It is white and well-lit. The walls hold many cabinets and drawers for storage. Countertops appear somewhat cluttered and unorganized. The camera stops at the center island-table. At the back of it are various vials and beakers and machines used for mixing, separating, cooling, and storing them. At the front is a cleared area, a keyboard, and several monitors of various sizes and angles stacking upwards. The camera tilts upward and there is a long, white, robotic arm extending downward from the center of the ceiling. 

Say hi, Athena.

The robotic arm perks up and waves at the camera. It appears snake-like in motion. The “head” is composed of several tools and gadgets that fold in on themselves. 

“Hello, Dr. McKeyla,” the AI robot says, in a calm feminine voice, perfectly balanced to sound human but not too human.

The camera swings around and for a moment, before it cuts, we see Dr. McKeyla’s face - a statuesque woman in her early thirties with blond hair and an impassive expression.

***

All right. I’m finally ready to begin actually testing the serum.

Additionally, once the serum enters the blood stream, the nanobots transmit signals back to Athena, showing me a readout of the test subject’s biology. I can see blood flow, breathing, bone structure, brain activity, organ activity, etc. It’s quite invasive and very interesting to watch.

4

• video record from file “Project Cockroach”   -

Footage begins. In the top left of the screen, in lavender letters, is the word “Recording”. Camera is low on Dr. McKeyla’s tabletop. Various lab equipment is in the background. A man, 4 centimeters tall, fidgets nervously in a labcoat. There is a miniature table near him with syringes and vials.

The sound of high heels draws closer. The camera swings upward, into Dr. McKeyla’s face. She seems to inspect the camera for a few moments. Then, it swings around again, and seems to settle at her eye level, overlooking her lab. It moves again, accompanied by clicking heels, and stops at a mirror. Dr. McKeyla is now wearing glasses. She takes a moment and adjusts them, and the camera moves with them. She straightens her labcoat, seems to approve - and then turns back to the table.

Dr. McKeyla: “The glasses seem to be working, Athena. Okay. First day of actual serum testing.”

She sits on a lab stool in front of the table.

Dr. McKeyla: “Athena, are you ready?”

Athena: “Yes, Dr. McKeyla.”

The robot arm moves to attention, like a serpent to a snake-charmer. The camera turns its attention to the man on the table. After a moment, it zooms in on him.

Dr. McKeyla: “You’re the new lab assistant. What was your name?”

Letters in the top right of the camera blink: “Micro-Audio Enhancement Active”

Lab Assistant: “It’s Charles, Dr. McKeyla.”

Dr. McKeyla: “Do you know what to do?”

Charles: “Yes Ma’am. Inject the patients.”

Dr. McKeyla: “Good. They’re subjects, not patients.

Charles: ”Uh… yes Ma’am.”

Dr. McKeyla: ”Athena, bring in the first subject.”

A long, transparent tube drops down from the ceiling. There’s a pressurized, hissing sound, followed by a hollow ‘thunk’ as an object shoots down into it, and a moment later a tiny man drops down onto the table. He is dressed in common clothes, and looks around to get his bearings. The tube recedes upward.

Dr. McKeyla: ”Funny isn’t it? Pneumatic tubes. Who would have thought this technology would ever come back into use.”

Charles: ”Ma’am?”

Dr. McKeyla: ”Let’s begin. Approach please.”

The camera focuses on the new arrival, who walks forward.

Henry: ”Hello, I’m Henry Altman. I’m glad I can be of help here. I’ve been waiting a long time to be useful. Anything for mankind right?”

Dr. McKeyla: ”That’s nice. Go ahead, Charles.”

Charles comes up to Henry and asks him to roll up his sleeve and clench his fist. Then he injects him intravenously in front of the elbow, before placing a cotton swab and bandage.

Henry: ”Ouch! Getting right to it, huh? What’s in that, anyway?”

The camera turns to the stack of monitors on the table. A large one in the middle lights up with a simplified image of a man’s silhouette. The white form starts to fill up with green, indicating something taking effect. When it becomes fully green, readouts appear beside it, displaying biometrics. 

Dr. McKeyla: “The nanites in the serum relay information on the body to Athena. We can see everything about the subject. Heart rate, brain activity, organ function, bone structure, pretty much anything. Athena will record, label, and categorize every subject and result. However, I still like to take notes by hand.”

Henry: ”Wow! Works fast!”

Dr. McKeyla puts a notebook and pen on the table, and then reaches into a drawer with a box of latex gloves, and snaps them on. She writes “Subject”, and, after a moment of consideration, “C1”. Then she places her other hand palm up on the table.

Dr. McKeyla: ”Approach, Subject C1. I’m going to do some testing.”

Henry: “Oh! Okay. I don’t know if I mentioned, my name is Henry. So I go right up into your hand? Alright then. By the way, what are we testing?”

Dr. McKeyla: “Structural integrity. Do you feel anything odd when I do this?”

The Doctor, with the man in her palm, curls her fingers around him.

Henry: ”Hghk! Oh uh, when you squeezed me like that? Uh, nothing odd really. Just knocked the wind out of me for a sec, heh. I see you taking notes there. What did you mean by struc-“

Dr. McKeyla: ”How about now?”

Henry: ”Agghk…!”

Her gloves make a rubbery crinkling sound as she forms a fist around the man. She opens her hand a moment later, revealing the man on his side, gasping for breath. He gets to his hands and knees. Dr. McKeyla waits for him to recover, and starts tapping her pen on her notebook. On the monitor, parts showing the respiratory system and chest area blink a dull red color before fading, as well as parts of the brain.

Henry: ”You… you’re hurting me.”

Dr. McKeyla: ”Nothing unusual though? Just regular pain?”

Henry: “N-no, what exactly are we doing here, Doc? I don’t think I signed up for th-“

Dr. McKeyla: ”It’s Dr. McKeyla. Only my friends call me Doc. Now, I’m going to squeeze very hard this time. Are you ready?”

Henry: ”No, wait wait wai- AGHK-“

Dr. McKeyla’s gloved hand squeezes into a tight fist. After a few moments, muffled cracking sounds come from within. The monitor figure turns bright red in several places. When she finally opens her hand, Henry is twisted and broken in several places. His eyes are bloodshot and his breath comes out in rasps.

Dr. McKeyla writes down several notes while the man twitches feebly in her open palm, blood seeping through his clothes in several places. Some jagged bits of his bone are visible. Eventually, she sighs.

Dr. McKeyla: ”First test, Subject C1. No effect noted. That’s all right, I didn’t expect any effects this early on. For ‘mankind’, right Harry?”

She closes her fist one last time, squeezing until blood oozes from between her fingers. On the monitor, the figure flashes with a red X through his body, and then dims to a flat grey, all readouts ceasing. Dr. McKeyla swivels in her chair, pulls out a waste basket, and opens her hand. An unrecognizable lump of bloody meat and clothes sticks to the glove for a moment before falling into the trash. Then she pulls the gloves off and tosses them in as well.

Charles: ”…Henry…”

Dr. McKeyla: ”What was that?”

Charles: ”…H-Henry. His name was Henry.”

Dr. McKeyla: “Sure. Are you going to be able to keep doing your job, assistant? You look pale.”

Charles: “…uh…are they all going to go like…like that?”

Dr. McKeyla: ”You knew there were risks involved. It’s all for ‘mankind’, and he volunteered. If you can’t do this job, tell me now and I’ll get a replacement.”

She puts her hand down on the table, somewhat near to Henry and with no gentleness, causing him to jump.

Charles: ”I’ll - I’ll keep going. I’ll keep going. Doctor.”

Dr. McKeyla: ”…Good. Athena, bring in the next subject.”

• Video recovered from deleted files, “Project Cockroach”, captured on Dr. McKeyla’s Athena Visor.

“No, you can’t do this! Help! Please, help me! Help meee-mfffgh!” the tiny man screamed.

Dr. McKeyla pressed the man’s head down into her gloved fist with her thumb, and then proceeded to squeeze until all his juices ran out. She opened her hand, sighed at the dead, scrunched up remains, and then closed her hand while she pulled the glove off, tossing the neat little garbage bag into the trash bin.

Charles, standing on the table, said, in a trembling voice: “H-He’s… he was right, you know, you… you can’t-”

Dr. McKeyla held up a massive hand for silence, blocking him completely from view while she wrote down notes, looking at the monitor readouts. 

He stood quietly, regretting having spoken aloud, while she ignored him. Finally she put her pen down, swiveled around on her chair, and leaned in close, her face filling his vision.

“Now, what were you saying I can’t do?”

He swallowed, visibly to her even without the visor’s enhancement. His mind blanked and he could only stammer.

“Are you alright?” she asked, without any emotion. “You look pale. Are you able to do this job, like you said?”

He nodded, and backed away.

“Good. Next subject” she said, and turned away, focusing her attention on her computer while she snapped on new gloves.

A pneumatic thoomp heralded the arrival of the next person.

A man in plain clothes walked over on the table to Charles, who was fumbling with a vial he had dropped. “Hi,” the man said, “I’m Anthony, for the volunteer testing - hey buddy, you okay?”

Charles took a deep breath, steadying himself on his work table. “Yes,” he said. He walked over to the new arrival and asked him to roll up his sleeve and make a fist.

“Okay. Sorry to ask, but do you know how long this is going to take? I’ve been waiting for hours and I have a family to get back home to - woah, jeez! Are you sure you’re okay? You’re shaking like a leaf!”

Charles spun around and shouted. “I can’t do this! I can’t do this anymore, I quit, and - and I’m going to report you for human rights violations! And, and, murder!”

Dr. McKeyla, without turning from the monitor, put her hand out to him and held up one index finger, indicating she would be with him in one moment.

“Wait, what? Murder?” Anthony said. 

“You should leave,” Charles said quietly.

But as he started nervously backing away, Dr. McKeyla said “Athena? Can you do Charlie’s job for him, please?

“Of course, Doctor.”

The shiny white robotic arm snaked down from above, and a tiny clamp extended from the tip, grabbing Anthony’s arm with surprising dexterity, and held him in place. The robot split into two, and the second limb snatched the syringe right out of Charles’ hand.

“No!” Charles shouted. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Anthony yelled, trying to escape from the arm, but it held him with implacable grip.

“Please, remain calm Subject C5,” Athena said reassuringly as she injected him with the serum.

Dr. McKeyla held out her gloved hand, and Athena swung over and dropped the man into her palm. She closed her grip slowly around him, watching the monitor display the serum takeover progress. “You know Charlie, the only reason your job existed was to keep the subjects calm and unassuming. A relatable face when they walk in. Now Athena has to do it.”

When the serum’s spreading was done, Anthony’s name and vitals all showed up on screen. His heart and brain activity were racing, adrenaline pumping, and his bladder control was loosening.

Dr. McKeyla swung casually over to Charles, and placed her gloved fist right next to him, gently, on the table, as she loomed over him. Her towering latex fingers placed him in shadow. To his horror, he could hear Anthony struggling inside, muffled, shouting for help. She seemed to study Charles for a moment, or maybe just give him a chance to listen to the man in her hand.

“So,” she said eventually, evenly, her face showing no emotion, “you’re quitting, right now, and you’re going to report me for all those things you mentioned, is that it?”

Charles swallowed, his dry throat clicking, but he held his ground somehow. “...yes.”

“Done. I accept your resignation.”

Charles gaped, and said eventually: “... You do?”

“Of course. You’re well within your ‘rights’ to do so.”

“O…okay,” he said, and took one step backward. He froze as she spoke again:

“Speaking of ‘rights’; Athena, I have a question.”

“Yes Doctor?”

  “Once these volunteers have become ‘subjects’, is there anything in the law about them having ‘human rights’?”

“No Doctor McKeyla. They become property of the NeoVancouver Size Institute, a vital branch of science research and humanitarianism owned by AthenaCorp and backed by the World Government. Human rights are revoked per article P-NE90 section G8-475, as a matter of national security. It’s in the NDA fine-print signed by all volunteers.”

“So everything I’ve been doing is approved by law, correct?”

“Of course, Doctor.”

A feeling of indescribably dread washed over Charles.

Dr. McKeyla continued: “Athena, if a member of this project who signed the non-disclosure act were to leave, that would be a security liability, yes?”

“Correct. Measures would need to be taken to ensure complete information containment.”

“Right. But if an employee were to quit, instantly, they would obviously not be an employee anymore. And if they weren’t working here, that would be trespassing in a secure facility - is that right, Athena?

“Yes Doctor.”

Charles could feel nothing all of a sudden, could barely focus. He vaguely heard the latex scrunching next to him, and Anthony’s cries became more strained and desperate.

Dr. McKeyla said: “Athena, remind me of one last thing: What rights do tiny trespassers have in private facilities?

“Size-afflicted beings trespassing on private property have any rights revoked, and may be dealt with by any means necessary.”

“Thank you Athena. I had almost forgotten.”

Dr. McKeyla squeezed her fist slowly. Charles, right next to her, heard every muffled scream, crunch of bone, and burst of organ, until Anthony’s blood ran out on the table in front of him. He was frozen, trembling, mind blank.

Dr. McKeyla didn’t bother looking at the monitor this time, only withdrew her hand, peeled off the glove and dropped it in the trash while maintaining eye-contact with Charles. “The way I see it, Charlie, is you have one chance to survive this.” A metal arm swung in front of him, holding a full syringe. “You’d better hope this one works.”

He didn’t know how long it took him to decide - everything was a slow blur. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. But eventually, as if in a trance, he took the syringe and somehow managed to inject his own arm. He wasn’t even sure he got it, but then he saw his own name appear in a haze of bright letters on the monitor way above him.

“Good choice,” Dr. McKeyla said.

Something clicked in Charle’s mind, and he began to run. It felt like a dream, running as though underwater. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to get away. He ran and ran ran, until there was no ground left. He was floating. He was flying in the air. Had he died already, was he ascending to heaven?

No. He had been falling. He hit something suddenly. He didn’t feel a thing - probably the adrenaline - but he was looking at the floor, blurry. He was on the ground somehow. He saw… black objects, moving. Shoes. Giant, black, high heel pumps, with red soles, moving slowly toward him, like monoliths in a dream. He tried to get up, but his body didn’t respond. He couldn’t move, so he just lay there. Lay there until the shadow covered him, and he vaguely felt pressure on his back, but hardly any pain. He felt his legs and lower body go cold, and then he felt everything inside of him suddenly come gushing out of his mouth, hot this time, as it was all pressed forward, all his insides spewing forth. And then nothing.

“Tsk, tsk. Didn’t work,” Dr. McKeyla said, as the monitor showed Charles had died. She knew that already of course. When his spine broke from the fall, it was apparent, but she knew for sure when she crushed him underfoot and his guts all squirted out.

She leaned back in her chair and sighed, reflecting. She crossed her leg over her knee, and stared at the crushed body on her sole, dripping slowly, while she rested her head in her hand. She vaguely wondered why Charles had run straight off the table, but mostly her mind was on other things. Such as, how had she not thought of stepping on them earlier? I mean, it was more relevant to the point after all. She rubbed the palm of her hand. If she didn’t change the procedure anyway, she would probably end up with Carpal Tunnel. Plus, the current method was very messy.

“Athena, make note:”

“Yes Doctor?”

“First of all, order some of those new intramuscular injection smart-pens for tiny asses, please. I just remembered those exist now and I’m not going to rely on an assistant any longer.”

“IMSPs ordered.” 

She thought for a few moments. “Next, call Savannah please.”

“Calling Savannah, Night Supervisor.”

Athena grabbed a monitor and hovered it in front of Dr. McKeyla. The screen showed a green phone and blinking ellipses, until a face appeared. The camera was pointing up at a young woman with dark ruby hair in a ponytail, wearing a headset and mic. The point of view must be from her handheld work tablet. She was walking and appeared distracted, issuing orders to someone else in her headset before noticing who was calling.

“Doc?” Savannah said.

“Hi, Sav. It’s been a while. Are you busy?”

“Hold on - everyone shut up for one second!... Okay. What’s up, Doc?”

“I’m working on something, and I need some janitorial personnel.”

“Okay, well I can send a couple women over if it’s an emergency. Chemical spill?

“No, actually, I need the small ones.”

Savanna frowned. “The tinies? Why, you need test subjects or something?”

“No, I have enough of those already. It’s for a big project, and I can’t say anything unless you sign an NDA first. But I need your special guys, what did you call them, the ones who deal with dirty work. And they have to sign the NDA as well.”

“Oh. Okay then. Well how long do you need them for?”

“All the time.”

“What do you mean, ‘all the time’?”

“All night long, steady, whenever I’m working.”

“…You’re requisitioning my crew!”

“…Yes?”

“I’m never getting them back.”

“Well, maybe in a few months if all goes well…?”

Savannah leaned her head back and sighed. “You’re killing me, Doc. Do you know how hard it is to get good Scrapers?”

“Oh right, that’s what you call them! I know. I’m sorry. Look, I’ll… pay you back somehow. Oh, I know. I think I have some around here...” Dr. McKeyla got up, took a couple steps and paused, looking down and cursing. She turned and reached for a tissue, and wiped off the bottom of her shoe. She shook the tissue at the camera. “This is why I need your little Scrapers!” She tossed it and started rooting around in cupboards. Athena followed her around, focusing briefly on a red footprint. “Ah! Eureka. Here it is. Remember my chemist friend?” She shook a small baggy in front of the camera. “Look, just come up here. Sign the NDA and I can tell you everything. I’m sure it’s fine with the higher-ups. And don’t give me that look!”

“Yup. I’m on my way.”

***

“Uffft… okay,” Dr. McKeyla said, inhaling from a bong they had cobbled together from lab equipment. “So you understand why I can’t tell you about it? Pfff.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke and waved it into the whirring laboratory fume hood, and passed the bong and torch to Savannah.

“Yep”, she said, lighting and inhaling. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to know any government secrets anyway.” She exhaled a huge cloud toward the ceiling.

“Into the fan, Sav, damn it,” Dr. McKeyla said, taking it back for another.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry - long week.” Savannah rubbed her eyes.

“Ah, it’s fine. They don’t care how I work, as long as I work.”

“Lucky. It’s always me getting yelled at in the morning.”

“Mmm. I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll put in a good word.”

“Whatever, fuck them. It's fine." She leaned into the fume box and exhaled smoke. "Goddamn, you nerds make good shit.”

“Yes. Yes we do. So, I’m sorry about you losing your staff, but I need some scrapers on my team and I know you have the best ones. So, youre alright if I take some?”

Savannah sighed, with some exaggeration and rolling of eyes. “Yes, and don’t worry it’s fine. There are always more guys. I’ll get them to you tomorrow night. But you still owe me.”

“Of course. I can get more of this stuff easily. And other substances, if you’re interested.”

“Sure but… hey, when you’re done whatever it is you’re doing, invent me something to make my job easier, ok?

Dr. McKeyla thought about it. “Absolutely. That’s a deal.” She passed the bong again. “Athena?”

“Yes Doctor?”

“Prepare NDAs for several more assistants and add the new recruits to the tab, or whatever you would call it. But don’t record anything from the last fifteen minutes.”

“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.

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.

It was Otis’s second month on the job. Janitorial work. Night shift. Corporate pay. No qualifications required, except to be able-bodied. Low-key dangerous.

A dead-end job.

That’s where you end up after getting kicked out of college. But that’s another story.

Get your gear. Find your crew. Go through the tubes. Pick up dust and crumbs. Sweep. Wipe. Mop. Drink coffee. Repeat. Put away your stuff and go home. Live the rest of your day too tired to do anything requiring thought. Sleep. Repeat.

Safety Rules:

Always wear your hi-vis hat and vest. At least the hat.

Stay Alert. No headphones (everyone wears headphones on night shift. Nobody cares.)

Stay with your crew. No wandering.

Never be on the floor. Leave that to the scrapers. 

It was hard work. And excruciatingly boring. And completely fucked up your sleep cycle. And the coworkers were weird and lame. And Otis was pretty sure the cleaning chemicals were giving him eczema. That or the micro-dust. And he missed college already.

But there was one highlight to every night: Savanna.

She was the night supervisor. A full size person. A giantess.

Savanna was very pretty. She had a round, symmetrical face and looked like several celebrities all combined, and Otis could never decide which one she most resembled. She was around the same age as him, mid-to-late 20s, average height verging toward tall, and an average build with wide shoulders. Her hair was always dyed ruby-red, and usually up in a ponytail or messy bun, or just pinned back at the top.Her eyes were green, framed by winged eyeliner, and the tiredness of a graveyard-shift worker gave them almost a smoky shadow. She always wore black: black leggings or dress pants, work-compliant black sneakers (with steel toes, though you could hardly tell) and non-work-compliant black hoodies with heavy metal logos. She had the voice of a mean girl who was always polite, unless she was teasing. she laughed at anyone’s joke, no matter how bad it was. He sometimes felt like she was hiding her real emotions, some slight disdain or weariness, but other times he felt sincere joy and comradery from her.

He only saw her once or twice a day, but each time it brightened his day. She was always cheerful, or at least sarcastic. He wasn’t sure if he had fallen for her yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time. There were two small things he had not gotten over yet. One was that she was almost too nice and outgoing for his taste. The other was the all-black work shoes, which he did not find particularly attractive. He was used to the white sneakers of college girls, or the rarely-seen high heel pump. These were very bad reasons not to like someone, but that was just how he was.

He had no idea tonight was the night he would become a complete and absolute simp for her.

It was a night like any other. Tedious and strenuous. The one difference was that one of the guys hadn’t been seen for a while. Tom, a new kid. Otis liked Tom, he was quiet and polite, a good worker, and smiled at his jokes.

Not being seen for a while wasn’t the most unusual thing with new employees. It usually meant they were either slacking off somewhere, or their bowels were still readjusting to graveyard shift. But we were still told to keep an eye out in case they were lost or stuck somewhere, or worse.

It turned out to be worse.

Otis was mopping up a coffee stain on a desk when he noticed a figure in the distance, out in the hall, running. A person on the floor was in a very dangerous place, but he recognized their white jumpsuit  - a “Scraper”, a specialized floor cleaner. He had seen them around but never interacted with one before - they were always on the floor or some other dangerous area. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he knew the reason the man was running had to do with Tom. There was a different feeling in his chest however - his heartbeat quickening. He got almost lightheaded, and started acting without thinking.

Otis dropped his mop and hurried over to the edge of the desk behind the huge computer monitor, where it’s cables ran down to the computer. He made a cursory glance down the dizzying distance to the floor, and then hugged the huge plastic cables and slid down to the floor.

When he landed, he noticed another scraper run by in the same direction. Otis ran across the floor to the hallway and stood there panting, while peering cautiously around the corner. Something told him he shouldn’t be seen. He saw the man disappear around a corner. There was no one else in any direction, so Otis went after him. 

He didn’t know how long he ran, It must have been a while because he had not been this winded in a long time. But finally he came around a corner and immediately spun back around to hide there, for he had found his destination. He peered around the corner. Nearby, in this somewhat obscure section of the office, several men in white overalls had gathered around a central figure lying on the floor. Otis gasped despite himself. 

There lay Tom, on his side, in a puddle of blood. His leg was gone, completely gone, and some of his intestines had spilled out of his stomach onto the floor, and his skin was pale as a ghost. His mouth was open but words weren’t coming out, only weak groans and garbles. His eyes were wide, sunken, rolling and pleading. He was dying. Otis had never seen anything like it in real life before.

The men in white around him were shaking their heads gravely. One was holding Tom’s hand, but he didn’t seem to notice. It was a bizarre scene, like cultists surrounding a blood sacrifice. Otis noticed they had all brought their mops with them.

The floor shook slightly then - the telltale sign of a giantess approaching. The men turned to look, but did not move to get out of the way. They were expecting her. It was Savanna. Otis pressed himself against the wall, hiding instinctually. There was a gap in the wall that formed a kind of cubby hole he could crawl into. 

The giantess approached, and took his breath away. This was the first time he had seen Savanna from floor level. She was magnificent from this angle, her black-clad legs soaring endlessly above him, swinging like huge pendulums as she walked. Far above, unaware of his presence, her face looked strangely impassive, like a bored god. As usual she wore a headset and was staring at her tablet as she walked.

This was the angle from which Otis started to fall in love with her. But he was barely aware of this fact.

Savanna stopped just short of the circle of men, finished doing whatever she was doing on her tablet, turned off her headset and looked down. 

“Oh no!” She said, sadly. Was there a hint of insincerity in her voice? “It’s Tom alright. Aw, he got smushed. What happened buddy, you get lost? Someone walk over you?”

The men all nodded or shook their heads and spoke gravely at the same time. It was much harder to hear them than it was to hear her. 

The giantess squatted down to take a closer look. She said quietly “He’s a goner, right? There’s no saving him from… that?” She pointed at the blood and innards. Her quiet voice was still very much audible to Otis.

One of the scrapers seemed to be a foreman, and he nodded and spoke, indicating vaguely at the state of Tom and the slowly spreading pool of blood around him, and he took his visi-hat off. Many of the others did the same.

Savanna said, in a resigned voice, “So I guess I have to do it huh? He’s suffering pretty bad?”

The men nodded and muttered.

She sighed. “You know I hate it when I have to do this.” 

More nodding and shrugging and muttering. Otis’s heart was beating like a jackhammer now. Was he really going to witness this?

Savanna stood straight, once again towering high over them. “All right then, boys. Turn around.”

Most of them stepped back and turned around, holding their hats in their hands. Some backed up but didn’t turn away. Otis, in his hiding spot, couldn’t take his eyes off what was about to happen. 

Savanna lifted her foot, planted her heel, and carefully positioned her raised toe over the dying, suffering form below her. Otis saw the deep pattern of grooves and circles that made up the sturdy sole, black and pink rubber whitened with wear and dust. She tilted her head to make sure she was positioned completely right, and then lowered her foot slightly until it was just barely above him. She sighed again.

“Sorry Tom,” she said, sounding almost imperceptibly unapologetic, “I gotta smoosh ya now.”

Otis watched as Tom’s eyes rolled up and bulged in panic as the shadow fell over him. A surge of fight or flight took over the weakened body as he tried to crawl away, but he could barely lift his arms at this point. Otis was transfixed, tunnel-visioned, and watched Savanna’s shoe make contact.

In reality it was quick -that had been the point. But to Otis it was in slow motion. He watched as Savanna’s shoe smashed him into the floor and his body burst from the inside out. Blood, organs, eyeballs. It was all visible for a horrible split second that seemed to last forever. He heard all the ribs snap at once, a sound he would never forget, followed by a wet splat, and then the muffled crunch of a skull as he disappeared completely. Well, almost completely. He saw Tom’s arm twisted at a strange angle and pressed up into a groove in her sole, remaining grotesquely intact.

He watched in fascination, still in slow motion, as the weight settled in Savanna’s toe box, the black mesh-like fabric bulging outwards slightly, and a crease forming at the top near her laces as her heel lifted slightly off the floor. There was a scritch sound as she twisted her foot the slightest bit, not out of disrespect but the opposite: to ensure the man she had just crushed was in no way, shape, or form, still alive and suffering.

On that note, she tilted her foot back the other way again, resting on the heel, to raise the front and expose the sole and the grisly remains for inspection. The foreman peered forward at what was now a barely recognizable patch of skin and organs and blood pressed into her shoe tread. He gave her the thumbs up to indicate there was no sign of life. 

She nodded, and took out a wet wipe, kneeled, and wiped most of the remains off her sole, and folded up the white square and its contents. She held her shoe raised, and the foreman shouted something and gestured the rest of the scrapers inward. They got to work in the deeper recesses of her tread, digging out all the gory remains, and wiping down the surface to a shining finish. Someone carried away the arm, depositing it into a large bucket.

It was at this point, where the shock or adrenaline wore off, that Otis snapped out of a daze and immediately entered a manic state of arousal, rolling over in his little hidey-hole and pulling out his rock hard, straining cock. He had to cum. He had to cum so bad he felt crazy. He hadn’t even known his penis could get this long before - It was alarming and painful, the skin pulled so taught and the rod so stiff and straining, and he had to jack off now. He could almost use both hands, one on top of the other along the length of it. It was only a few seconds of breathless, desperate stroking before he orgasmed, spasming, shooting a huge load over and over, and this too was a little painful and alarming because it kept coming, and for a crazy second he thought it would never end, until finally he ran dry. He collapsed backward, remembering to breathe again, panting heavily.

When his head stopped spinning and he entered post nut clarity, he became hyper aware of where he was, and what had just happened and what he had done, all at the same time, and it was a lot, but he accepted it transcendently. His body was still bathing in afterglow, and very sore as well, so he remained lying on his side on the floor, staring out at the ceiling miles overhead. Had that been more intense than any sex he had ever had before? The question was rhetorical - of course it had been, he had never orgasmed like that before. 

Flashes came into his mind. Savanna’s face overhead, strangely impassive. The arm being carried away. Tom disappearing beneath the shoe. Tom laughing at his joke the day before. Tom’s face splitting and bursting. Otis stared at his hand, covered in cum, guilt washing over him. How could he have done that? But how could he have resisted?

Eventually he became aware of the scene outside coming to an end. The floor shuddered once more, and he curled up against the wall quickly. Part of him was scared she would see the splatter of his cum on the ground and find him curled up there with his pants open. There was a woosh of displaced air as the giantess passed by overhead. Otis’s heart was in his throat again as the massive legs swept by. He watched with intense morbid fascination the soles of her shoes as she walked away down the hall. 

It struck him heavily that her gait was unbothered. Exactly the same as any other time of day. Her focus was once again on her tablet as if nothing had happened - calm and so modestly self-confident. He felt himself getting hard again.

Otis spent the rest of his shift in a daze, barely able to do anything. When he got home, he got into bed and immediately jacked off again, replaying the images over in his mind. He would be completely obsessed for quite some time.

Lab video file recovered from deletion. 20:04, Friday XXX

“Hi Lorileiii,” two voices chimed in unison.

“Hey guys,” Lorilei said, as Alexis and Myla came into the lab. “Thanks for staying late and coming in tonight.”

The three interns were in their very early 20s, just graduated high school and in their first year of college.

Alexis was very tall, with freckles, blue-green eyes, and long blond, almost ginger hair. She had a strong, lower voice and took her time enunciating words in a valley-girl-esque accent. Her lab coat barely fit her long frame. Underneath she wore a sports top, ripped jeans, and white Air Jordan sneakers.

Myla was quite short, with neck length wavy black hair and brown eyes. She had a soft voice with a hint of vocal fry, and usually spoke evenly, but when excited or upset she spoke much faster and with a stronger hispanic accent. Her lab coat looked long on her short frame, and underneath she wore a t-shirt that hugged her large breasts, cargo pants, and white AF1 sneakers.

“Yeah no problem,” Myla said. Alexis shot her a look. Lorilei caught it.

“What?” Lorilei inquired.

Alexis rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay - There’s a party tonight, and we want to go. You should definitely come too, Lori. I know we said we would help, and we totally will. But can we like, do it quickly and get out of here early? We can come back tomorrow and work some more.”

“Who’s party?”

“Autumn’s. It’s at 10:00, which is in like half an hour, but we can show up at like, 11:00, or even 12:00 maybe.”

“Ahhh, shit!” Lorilei cursed, clutching the air around her head. She thought about it for a moment. “Okay!”

“Yes!” Myla said.

“Fuck yah, dude!” Alexis said.

“But! We have to get started on this, and we have to do it properly for Dr. McKeyla. It’s gotta be done before tomorrow night. No fuck-ups. Remember all the NDAs and stuff you had to sign? This is important.”

“Okay, okay, whatever,” Alexis said.

“She meant we’ll do it properly, Lori. Don’t give us that look girl, damn!”

***

Lorilei pulled the roof off of Cell Block A. 80 men looked up as 3 giant girls leaned in and looked down on them.

“Dammmn, there’s so many of them,” Myla said.

“It’s like a freaking, ant farm,” Alexis said.

“That’s just one block. There’s two more to get through tonight.” 

Each intern had an ISI Pen, or Easy Pen, and would grab a guy from the cell block and inject him. Then they would wait for his stats to come up on-screen, and add in additional information by scanning their Convict Code and attaching a name and criminal record to the body. Then they would put him back and do another one. 

After the first few, eight little guards, whom they didn’t notice until later, understood the procedure, and organized the prisoners into a line leading into one of the cells. In this cell, the prisoner would strip down naked and wait to be picked up. Their clothes were transferred to another cell. The interns were pleasantly surprised by this helpfulness.

“Wow,” Alexis said, “They’re so orderly and obedient.”

“Yeah, weird…” Lorilei said, vaguely remembering what she had done to the one prisoner under her finger that morning. 

Block B would also proceed without much issue, though the guards were rougher on them and shoved them into line, and the prisoners squirmed unhelpfully in their hands. Block C was different altogether - the guards kept the prisoners in their locked cells, and forced them to strip inside one cell at a time. They were noiseome - the inmates yelled at the guards and jeered at their comrades, while the guards yelled and banged on the doors of the cells with truncheons. When picked up, the C Block Inmates often made rude gestures at the young interns, or even fought against their giant fingers.

”Don’t let them get to you,” Lorilei said quietly. “Let’s just get the job done.”

”They’re not getting to me dude, they’re just so annoying,” Alexis said, shaking the one in her hand to make him stop moving.

”Don’t fuck them up either, they need to be in normal shape for the tests tomorrow,” Lorilei said.

”How were men ever on the same level as women?” Myla said, examining them. “They’re so disgusting, and stupid?” The man in her hand had his underwear around his knees and made a jacking-off gesture, leering. “Ugch,” she said, and tossed him daintily back into the cell, like tossing a used tissue.

***

Lab video file recovered from deletion. 22:28, Friday XXX

“We did it! That’s the last one!” Myla said, excitedly.

“Fuck yeah!” Alexis cheered.

”Alright, lets get these cell blocks back into place and hooked up and ready, and we can get out of here.”

“Wait - they don’t even have their clothes back on yet?”

“Fuck it, they can figure it out when we’re gone. Let’s go,” Alexis said.

Together they lifted the awkward blocks back to the storage place, one person on each side, first placing Block C on top of the recreational/otherwise block, and then Block B on top of that, fitting them together like Legos.

Myla and Alexis carried Block A back through the middle of the lab. “Why are we even bothering hooking these blocks back up?” Myla asked. “They’re all just going to get crushed tomorrow during the tests, right?”

Alexis stopped walking. “…What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Lorilei stood opposite them, frozen, looking uncomfortable. She was holding the roof of block A in her hands. 

“Oh…” Myla and Alexis looked down at the block they were holding. 88 pairs of eyes looked back up in shock.

”They weren’t supposed to hear that, Myla! Now they’ll panic tomorrow!”

”Put the lid back on Lori! Why didn’t you have it on in the first place?”

”I fucking forgot!”

”What good is the lid going to do now?” Myla demanded.

”Just put it on! We’ll figure it out!” Alexis said.

Lorilei rushed over and jammed the lid down. It didn’t fit.

”It’s backward! See, it has to fit into the things-“

”What things?!!”

”Woah guys, chill!” Alexis said, “Fuck, stop shoving it down-“

They bumped into a table. The block fell out of their hands and landed on its side on the floor, breaking into pieces. 88 men spilled out onto the tiles.

There was a long moment where everyone was frozen. The interns looked down at the inmates, and the inmates looked up at the interns. The interns looked at each other, and the inmates looked at each other.

Then the inmates scattered.

”…Oh shit,” the interns said.

”What do we do?!” Myla said.

Lorilei stood frozen, grimacing, her hands forming desperate claws. She looked at the swarming men, at the broken cell block, and then at the monitors showing all the convicts they had injected and filed, with all of their vitals blinking.

”Uh, Lori?” Alexis said.

Lorilei didn’t respond. She looked back down at all the tiny men fleeing in every direction. There was one helping another injured man to his feet. They felt her giant eyes upon them and looked up. Her manic gaze loosened their bladders.

Lorilei raised her red Vans sneaker. The last thing the two men saw was the tan-coloured diamond rubber pattern of her sole, right before she stomped them. Blood spattered the floor, and most of the men looked back in horror.

”Lori!” Myla screeched. “What are you do-“ Her voice stopped in her throat when she saw Lorilei glaring back at her.

”Do not let them escape!” Lorilei snapped.

”Well yeah, but…”

”If even one of them gets out and tells anyone about this secret project, we are fucked! And I will not be fucked by tiny little criminals!”

Myla stepped back. ”…Okayyy. You’re right, but is it ok to just kill them?”

Just then, Alexis stepped on one. There was a wet little crunch. She lifted her heel to grind him out, twisting her long leg back and forth slowly. She felt Myla’s big eyes on hers and looked up. “What?” Alexis said. “You said it yourself, they’re just gonna get crushed anyway.”

”Yeah but the procedure - ??” Myla said, her voice getting higher and faster. “We were just told to prep them, not hacer todo el procedimiento!?”

”They’re already dans le systeme, we just spent like deux heures a faire ca, Myla!” Lorilei said. “This is like, credito adicional! We’re getting a head start, just, fucking, por favor…” She stomped on another fleeing man. “…Let’s go! Before they escape through the fucking vents or something!” She went hunting for more.

Myla threw up her hands, not knowing what else to do. She looked back to Alexis for support, which was a mistake. She saw the tall blond casually step on another prisoner with her size 11s. “Alex!” She whined. 

“Don’t look at me, I don’t want to lose this job. I need these credits for the basketball program,” she said, and pulled out her phone. She lowered her shoe distractedly onto a man who had fallen and was crawling away. “It’s like 10:45 already Myla,” she said, as the man turned slowly into paste. “Don’t you still want to go to the party?”

”We’ll never go to a party again if we don’t get all these little fuckers, because the government is going to come, and shoot us! Get stepping please!” Lorilei shouted, stomping angrily.

”Ok, ok, ok,” Myla acquiesced. She sighed and looked down, squinting. She spotted a group of men near the crash site who weren’t running. After a moment, she said “Uh, guys?”

Lorilei and Alexis turned and looked down at a group of tiny men bunched tightly together near the upturned cell block. There were eight of them. They were wearing blue clothes, not naked.

”What do we do about the guards?” Myla asked slowly.

Lorilei stared at yet another problem. They stared back up at her, not daring to move. She screwed her eyes shut and reached under her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. Alexis scrolled through her phone at pictures people were posting from the party.

From behind her hand, Lorilei eventually mumbled “Fuck.” Then she dropped her hand, blinked, sighed, and raised her foot once more. “They’re witnesses. We have to get rid of them.”

The guards scattered in every direction. “Shit,” Lorilei said, and aimed for the closest one, splattering him, and then another in quick succession.

Alexis looked past her phone, picked a blue suit at random, and then went back to her phone as she stepped on him.

”Can we focus here Alex? Please?” Lorilei pleaded.

Alexis, not looking up, walked forward and crushed one more underfoot, not noticing if he was naked or wearing blue. “I got it, don’t worry,” she said, “I’m just texting Autumn.”

Lorilei watched as Alex somehow managed to unerringly eliminate men with each step of her white Jordans while hardly even paying attention. Maybe it was an athlete thing.

She shook her head and focused on her own task. Looking down, she saw two guards running side by side. She stomped them both at once as she scanned for the next nearest target, a naked one. This was a bigger, slower guy and she easily tread on him as she moved toward others.

Myla meanwhile, had found her first target, a guard who had frozen and not run. He was waving up at her and shouting something. She leaned down to try to hear him, but could not make anything out except little squeaks. She shrugged apologetically to him. “Sorry little man, you were just doing your job. And you did it pretty good, too. But, I have to crush you now, so don’t move.” She raised her white AF1 sneaker over him. The man must have been prone to freezing, because he didn’t move as she lowered her foot slowly. She even hesitated for a bit, and turned her foot to make sure he was still there. He was. So she shrugged again, and kept going until she felt a tiny crunch. Myla’s expression scrunched up in disgust as she twisted her foot back and forth.

Lorilei stomped one flat under her left foot, and then another under her right, but this time she had really had to stretch to do it one step. In fact, she hadn’t even gotten him completely, just his legs, but she left him to die and surveyed the lab. The tiny men were getting more and more spread out. Soon they would reach the walls, where there were vents and stuff, probably. They needed a change in tactics.

”Myla, go over there! Alexis, you go over there! Then work your way back to the middle. We can’t let them reach the walls.”

Myla had her foot raised over a prisoner who had fallen and was raising his arms as if to protect himself. She looked to where Lorilei had instructed her to go and nodded. “Ok.” When she looked down again, the man was gone. Puzzled, she took a step backward, and to her surprise felt him crunch under her heel. “Oh, oops,” she said. “Sorry.”

”Stop apologizing to them, Myla,” Alexis said, still texting. “They’re criminals or whatever, they deserve it.” She looked down just long enough to deftly flick a man with her shoe, purposefully sending him crashing into another one up ahead. She was already back on her phone as she tread on them, both bodies crunching unheeded under her shoe, as she posted a heart on a pic of Autumn by the pool with her friends. When she got to the instructed spot at the end of an aisle between two tables, she turned and walked back, leisurely stepping on every thing that moved in her peripheral vision while she swiped through more photos.

The three of them all herded the crowd down their lanes back toward center, Myla guiding hers side to side like a sheepdog, Lorilei stomping stragglers with precision, and Alexis mowing them down leisurely. 

It was a slaughter when they reached the middle. Tiny screams rose and were abruptly cut off with loud crunches, squelches, and squeaks of rubber. Blood and viscera filled the air and rained down as the giant sneakers lifted and fell.

”Mmm, okay, this is actually kinda funnn,” Myla admitted sheepishly. She stepped up and down steadily like someone making wine, regardless if anyone was caught underneath. She turned it into a little dance, raising her hands and shuffling side to side. 

”I mean, it’s kind of a joke,” Alexis said, stomping on one who tried to get away. “They’re so stupid. Like, yeah, you’re getting fucking stepped on now, bitches. Maybe you shouldn’t have done crime.” She caught two darting away, easily crushing them with one step. She laughed and said, “Watch this.” She corralled as many little men as she could with her feet, sweeping them into a pile high enough that they started to scramble over her white Jordans and escape. Then she raised her big shoe over the screaming, wriggling mound. She gave them the finger, sticking her tongue out, then stomped down. They exploded under her shoe, showering the area with gore. 

“Oh my god, how many was that?” Myla said.

Alexis laughed. She lifted her foot with a wet sucking sound, and tried to count the bodies. A few were obvious: flattened silhouettes with their insides sprayed out and red-stained rags. But there was a pile of meat and guts that was really hard to tell how many men were a part of it. There was someone still twitching in it, or half of someone, somehow spared by the pattern of her tread but buried up to their face in the horrific goo. Alexis barely noticed him as she tried to count. “I dunno, like… six? Oh wait…” She leaned one hand on the table and held her foot in the other so she could see the sole of her shoe. There were more flattened bodies stuck there, or squashed into the grooves or her tread. “Like… eleven?” She put her foot back down on the wet pile, mashing it flat with a hard twist. “Let’s call it an even dozen,” she said. Any signs of life were smeared across the floor as Alexis wiped off her shoe.

Meanwhile Lorilei was stomping her Vans into wherever the men were thickest, trying to kill them as efficiently as possible. She would smash flat two or three at a time, sending long jets of blood and guts across the floor as she looked for the next targets to kill. But, after having watched her friends enjoying themselves, she was beginning to actually have fun as well, though her grin had a manic look to it. Maybe the adrenaline was just getting to her. 

She swept her foot in an arc in front of her just above the ground, knocking four men off their feet. Two of them landed close together, and as they struggled to get up, she planted her heel behind them with her sole raised over them. In her shadow, they looked at her in terror, and she waggled her foot, waving to them. Only then did she lower it. Blood spurted out from under her shoe.

She saw the other men had gotten to their feet. She tapped one on the back with the toe of her shoe, knocking him down again. He tried to get up once more, but she pressed down onto his back. His head arched up backward and sprayed blood like a fountain, until she twisted her foot and crushed him in half.

The other one was getting away, but she reached forward and touched the toe of her other shoe down in front of him, and then slowly dragged it backward until a greasy red smear started to appear on the floor where her foot had been. She giggled.

Lorilei found she actually really enjoyed savoring their deaths now. Instead of stomping them instantly, she would knock them down and crush them slowly so she could watch them die, or at least feel them die through the soles of her sneakers. It felt like a reward, or payback for all the hard work she put into them.

She landed her foot in front of one, blocking his escape, and brought her other foot up behind him, trapping him in the ovoid gap between her insteps. She watched with amusement as he sidled back and forth in the narrow space desperately, unable to escape. She parted her feet just a little, just enough for him to be able to squeeze through. He pulled himself forward, straining against the white rubber midsoles like a jungle explorer in tall grass. Before he could get out she started to press her feet together once more. He looked up at her, his tiny face a silent scream, suddenly unable to draw breath. He turned purple and clawed at the canvas and rubber all around him, flailing hopelessly. Lorilei grinned down at him and waved goodbye as she rubbed him into paste between her midsoles.

Lorilei looked at the other interns, who were finishing off the last runners who had tried to escape. The floor was a Jackson Pollock of splattered bodies. She spotted movement near her feet, and leaned down to investigate. ”Hey guys, come look at this,” she said. 

The two interns came over, casually stepping on a few twitching and crawling bodies along the way. Back at the crash site they found a man trapped under the one-way transparent plastic wall. His leg was broken and he was pounding blindly with his fists, yelling for help. Another man was nearby, struggling in vain to lift the wall off his comrade. 

“Awww,” Myla giggled, “that’s so sad.” She cocked her head and made a sad pouty face.

The little man looked up, saw the three giantesses staring back, and bolted.

”Oh, you’re going to abandon your friend?” Lorilei said. “I think you should go back and help him.” She knocked him down the toe of her shoe, and before he could get up, she pressed down on his leg, crushing his foot. He let out a yelp of pain. 

The girls giggled as Lorilei crouched down and picked him up. She laid him carefully face-down on top of the wall, directly over the other prisoner. Then she stood up quickly and placed her shoe carefully on his back as he tried to crawl away, and slid him back into position over his comrade once more. She did a quick rearrangement of her foot on his back so that he was just under the edge of her sole, and everyone could see both him and the man underneath. Under the wall, the trapped man could see nothing from above except the giant sneakers gathered around him.

”Oh my God, Lorilei, don’t!” Myla said, putting her hands to her mouth, but she could not stop from laughing. Alexis was paying more attention to her phone, but she smiled.

Lorilei also grinned, and let everyone savor the moment. She was being very careful not to put any more weight on her foot than necessary.

Eventually she pressed as lightly and slowly as she possibly could. The little man under her shoe started to flail with one arm and one leg free, but his face was pressed flat into the plastic. The man underneath, who could not see, had a moment of stunned panic as the wall began to press down on him. He banged his hands one more time on the wall in desperation before the pressure began.

There was stifled laughter from the giantesses. They all watched as the trapped man wriggled desperately under the wall until he had no room to even do that, and then he seemed to bulge and stretch against the surface. His body let out muffled cracking noises from within as his bones began to snap.

The man directly under her shoe was the unlucky one - he survived a little longer. The rubber sole was a slightly more forgiving surface to be under than a hard wall and floor. His last moments were cursed to witness and feel his former comrade die a grisly, humiliating death millimeters from his face. He wept in helpless anguish. He felt the glass drop a few millimeters as the other man’s ribs below him collapsed, heard every bone breaking, every gurgled gasp. He could do nothing except flail helplessly with one free arm and leg. He tasted blood and bile in his throat as his own body began to break under the pressure.

“Yeah, squish them Lori pleeease!”

“Do it! Squish ’emmm!”

Lorilei simply grinned and minutely increased pressure.

The bottom man’s face distended, his jaw dislocated then broke in half. His cheekbone collapsed, his eyeballs bulged out of his head, and then his skull cracked open, spraying the clear wall with blood. A moment later his body exploded completely. The whole wall slid forward against the floor, spreading every inch of him out on display.

A moment later, the man who witnessed this from above was crushed into Lorilei’s sole with a wet crunch. His eyes popped out as his head flattened into mush. One free arm and leg stuck out straight up and fell away. Blood and Innards oozed out the side. The giant girls cheered.

Lorilei leaned and peered down, and lifted her shoe a bit. That man’s remains were partially stuck to her sole: a flap of flesh that dangled underneath, still attached where his head and brains had turned to sticky mush. This sent the girls screaming with laughter as Lorilei shook her foot to get it off. It landed with a wet splat a couple inches away. She stepped off the wall, which rose a few millimeters and sucked back some of the pooling blood from underneath. With her foot gone, the remains of the man under the clear wall were spread out like a rug on display, the blood and organs spread even further.

The girls were all wheezing with laughter. “Now that’s good science,” Lorilei said. This sent them all into hysterics once more.

When they calmed down, they looked around. There didn’t seem to be any men left running around.

“Is that all of them?” Myla asked, wiping away a tear.

Lorilei considered. “Athena, are there any of cell block A left alive?”

“Yes Lorilei. There are four convicts still showing full vital signs.”

“Fuck,” Lorilei cursed. “Spread out and find them. They can’t have gotten too far.”

They spread out, heads lowered, checking under every table and chair, every nook and cranny.

“Oh here’s one,” Myla said. He was hiding under a ledge. “Come out here, it’s okay little guy,” Myla said in a soft voice. She tapped her fingernail on the floor. “That’s right, it’s okay, come out here.” He crawled out slowly, cautiously. ”It’s okay. It’s okay,” she repeated, as she stood up and gently lifted her sneaker over him. He turned and crawled quickly back toward the way he had come. “It’s okay.” She crushed him gently before he could back under cover. She giggled quietly as she twisted her foot.

“I found like, two over here,” Alexis said. There were two little men hiding in a corner. Having been discovered, they came out and fell to their knees, lifting their hands up with their wrists together, begging to just be handcuffed and left alive. “You’ll have to beg harder than that if you want to live, you little criminals,” she scoffed, and put her heel down in front of them, lifting her huge, gory sole over them. “Kiss my fucking shoe, you little worms,” she demanded. She lowered her Jordan close enough to the floor that they could reach with their mouths, and leaned down and around, craning her long neck to see underneath. “Oh my fucking god, they’re actually doing it! Yeah that’s right bitches, lick that shit up. Lick up your dead friends if you don’t want to end up like them.”

“Oh my God no way,” Myla said. “That’s so gross!”

“Yeah,” Alexis said, laughing. “Fucking pathetic! You don’t deserve to live, you little bugs, get fucked,” she said. She pressed her foot down until they crushed beneath it, and shoved it forward, smearing them across the floor.

It took the girls a while, but eventually Lorilei found the last one. He was tucked into a corner with nowhere to run, shaking in fear when she spotted him. She advanced slowly, not taking her eyes off him. She eased her foot forward, meaning to smush him against the wall, but in the very corner she could not reach him. He remained safe tucked into the tiny triangle of space between her toe bumper and the corner. She sighed in frustration and studied the man.

”I’ll make you a deal,” she said quietly and slowly, like a teacher scolding a student. “If you just come out, I promise we won’t hurt you. You just have to sign an NDA and you’ll be fine. The other option is, I reach down there with my fingers and pop your little head, okay? You’re trapped: Eventually I will get you. Do you want to come out and sign the NDA and live instead?” She nodded her head in condescending persuasion. “Yes, right?”

After a few moments, the tiny little head in the corner began to nod sadly. Myla and Alexis had come up behind them quietly, though Alexis was on her phone again. “Good,” Lorilei said, feeling fiendish with her friends at her back now. “Now, all you have to do is, come out.” She lifted her shoe just a tiny bit, still keeping him trapped in the corner, but now with enough room to crawl under her shoe to freedom. “Just go ahead and crawl underneath. Don’t be scared, you can do it!”

Myla bit her finger to hide her giggles. Lorilei fought to keep a sneer off her smile, and kept nodding with fake enthusiasm. The little man was considering it apparently, shaking his head in frustration. “Come on,” Lorilei goaded. “Go ahead and crawl.”

Eventually, with no other choice, he actually did. They watched the little form bend and tuck himself down with some difficulty beneath her toe box, and slowly disappear from sight. The interns stifled their excited laughs.

”I know it might be a little gross and scary under there, but don’t worry, you can do it. Just crawl, like a little worm.” Lorilei grinned and lowered her shoe the tiniest amount she could. She could just barely feel something moving under there.

They waited a long time, coaxing him to come out, until eventually they did see tiny little hands appear at the edge of her shoe, then arms, then finally a head. He was crawling on his belly, struggling to pull and wriggle through the tight space. “Wow, good job,” Lorilei said. 

He twisted his head around and looked up.

“But, you know I was just kidding, right little worm?” Lorilei laughed and pressed down. His lower body crunched, all his insides gushed out, and he spasmed and twitched, before slumping dead.

”Wow, what a fucking idiot,” she said. She lifted her foot, and his upper body clung to her midsole and then got stuck to the slick underside of her sole. She giggled and then pressed her sole against the wall, crushing and smearing down the rest of his corpse.

”Okay, that was fun but let’s go, we’re late for the party,” Alexis said, looking at her phone.

”That’s all of them, right Athena?” Myla said.

”Correct. There are no remaining convicts from Cell Block A left alive.”

“Wait, what’s that?” Myla pointed to movement at the other end of the lab.

There was one tiny speck of movement in the distance. They went after it. As they got closer, they saw it was wearing blue. 

“Shit, it’s a guard!” Lorilei said. “It’s heading for the door, stop him!”

”Oh fuck, I thought we got them all,” Alexis said.

Then they watched in slow motion as the big doors began to open. Someone was on the other side, coming in. The little man sprinted forward, waving his arms up to get their attention.

”Don’t let him get away!” Lorilei shouted desperately to whoever was at the door. Her career flashed before her eyes.

The little man crashed into an object, bounced off and fell on his ass. He looked up. There was the raised sole of a rubber treaded boot, resting on a sturdy high heel. Above it was a woman in business casual and striking platinum ombre hair, looking down at him with confusion.

The interns froze. 

“Oh shit,” Alexis mumbled.

Angela looked from the man, up to the girls, quizzically.

”It…” Lorilei stammered. “He…”

Angela tilted her head and looked past them, at the grisly red remains staining the floor and halfway up the tables.

”It’s…it’s not…” Lorilei said quietly.

Angela sighed, and rolled her brown eyes. She looked down at the little man at her foot, who was propped up on his elbows, not sure what was happening now. She lowered her foot, slowly but surely, as if she was still contemplating something. The guard panicked and tried to scuttle backward but he was too late, and got slowly crushed from the legs up, giving a final shriek as he disappeared beneath her boot with a wet crunch.

The girls watched in shock as she gave her foot a twist, and then lifted it, revealing a red stain on the floor. The body was mushed into pulp between her treads, and she seemed to forget about him stuck there as she walked calmly into the lab, looking around. After she surveyed the carnage, Angela saw the interns were standing in a line with their hands clasped, and heads bowed in shame. She sighed and rolled her eyes again. “Look, I don’t know what happened here exactly, but I’m sure it’s all fine. None of them escaped, right?”

”No,” Lorilei mumbled.

”Did you get any data?”

”...Yes, I think so.”

”Then it’s fine. Honestly, it looks like you just did McKeyla’s work for her, in the end, and I’m sure she won’t mind. I’ve been telling her she needs to accept help on the project, even if she wants to do everything herself. So don’t beat yourselves up about it.”

”Yes Ma’am,” Lorilei said quietly.

”Don’t call me Ma’am, call me by my name: Angela. I’m not the good Doctor, or Tanya.”

”Ok Angela.”

”Just… relax. Take a deep breath. What are you girls doing now?”

”We’re uh, going to clean this mess up?” Lorilei said.

Alexis gave a quiet pained gasp and glanced at her phone.

Angela clocked this. “You look like you want to get out of here. I get it, it’s late. Go out, go party or whatever. I’ll get Savanna to bring her special crew up here and clean it up. It’s their job anyway, and not yours.”

Alexis looked up and beamed. “Really?”

”Yes, it’s fine. Savanna has clearance, and her little special crew have been assigned to the project, as you know Lorilei. And I know Autumn is having a big party at her mom’s place tonight - Please don’t look so surprised. Tanya isn’t there, she’s at the investor’s meeting in Toronto with Dr. McKeyla, but she’s still been texting me complaining about it. So why don’t you do us a favor and go, and have fun, but make sure they don’t destroy Tanya’s house, ok?”

”Thank you Angela!” The interns said, and darted off to grab their belongings.

Angela shook her head and smiled. She lifted her foot to look at her sole, and wrinkled her nose a bit. She held her ankle there and grabbed a pen off the table, and used it to dig the mushed remains out of the deep tread.

”Thanks again Angela!” The girls said, waving happily as they headed out through the door. They almost ran into Savanna, who was standing there with a grumpy look on her face. Her arms were crossed, and there were several floor cleaning machines idling behind her, with little men in white jumpsuits piloting them.

”Oh, Hi Savanna,” they said in friendly, nervous voices.

”Hiii,” she replied, in a friendly voice, though her face conveyed nothing. She watched them go, leaving their bloody shoe prints all down the hall, then turned back to Angela, eyebrow cocked.

”I told them it was ok to go,” Angelo explained.

”I know you did. That’s why I’m here, cleaning up a laboratory shitshow after some dumb teens. Not like I have a million other things to do or anything. What the fuck happened here anyway?” She stepped to the side and said “Go,” and the cleaning crew hummed by and got to work with their zamboni-like machines. A bunch trailed in afterward on foot with mops and buckets, and Savanna stepped over them without looking. 

“Girls will be girls, I suppose,” Angela said. “Come on. You’re not much older than them, Savanna.”

”I guess I’m an old soul. Do I get paid extra now that I’m part of some top secret program?”

Angela tapped on her smart watch, making a note. “Yes, absolutely, I’ll put it in the budget. Thank you for reminding me. Do you think McKeyla left any yogurt in the fridge?”

”We should probably take a look, at least.”

Lorilei shuffled into the lab. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked even paler than usual. She bumped into the corner of a table and almost threw up.

She choked it back, and began fumbling around to make coffee.

”Good evening!” Angela said loudly and cheerily as she strode into the lab. Lorilei winced at the noise and rubbed her temples. “How was your night?”

”Great,” Lorilei rasped. Her hands were shaking trying to place a mug under the coffee spout.

“Great!” Angela said. “McKeyla will be back tonight, so I’ve ordered a replacement box of tinies from the prison. Be sure to have them prepped for her, she’s eager to get back to work. You might all have to work together to get it done in time. And be sure to have all the data from last night collected for her, you know she loves data. Alright, have a good night!”

***

The three interns sat in miserable silence, slouched on their lab stools. They were all massively hung over, pale and puffy-eyed. Myla and Alexis injected the new prisoners with zombie-like motions, often fumbling the little creatures. Lorilei compiled data, squinting at the bright monitor.

“Ow, fuck! this little fucker bit me,” Alexis said. She threw the little fucker on the floor and stomped on him with her somewhat dirty white Jordans.

”Really Alexis?” Lorilei snapped, “After yesterday? That’s why we’re here right now!”

”What do you mean? Yesterday was your idea after you forgot to put the lid on. Anyway, who cares, it’s fine. It’s just one sample. Put it in your essay or whatever.”

Lorilei sighed, not having the energy to argue. “It’s a good thing we’re dosing them one at a time, in isolation, or the whole box would go crazy and we’d have another shit show.”

Behind them, unnoticed, Myla was holding another man in her gloved hand. She pursed her lips and side-eyed him, as if to say uh oh, sorry… He looked up at her shaking his head in silent terror, as if to respond I won’t tell anyone I swear! But his attempt was useless. Myla surreptitiously covered his head with her latex thumb and squeezed her fist. When she felt him squish, she pulled her glove off inside-out, hiding his remains inside and tossed him in the trash. She faked a big yawn and stretch to further hide her action and wandered over to Alexis.

“Careful,” Myla said, smirking, “if one of them bit you, you could turn into one of them and start shrinking.”

A mischievous look came over Alexis as she stared at Myla.

“What are you doing?” Myla said.

Alexis raised her long leg.

“Don’t,” Myla began, “Don’t even think about it - I’M SERIOUS, EW GOD, it’s all over your shoe, he was full of shit or something!“ 

Alexa was holding up her long leg with dirty white sneakers close to Myla’s face. The tiny corpse’s burst innards dangled wetly from her sole, and were indeed foul.

Myla turned green, got up, and ran to the bathroom. “I’m gonna barf, you bitch,” she whined from behind her hands covering her mouth.

”You see what you’ve done?” Lorilei demanded. “Now we’re going to be behind.”

”Come on, it was funny.”

***

Dr. McKeyla strode into the lab, her heels clicking.

”Hello Doctor,” Lorilei said.

McKeyla stared at her. “Are you unwell? You look pale.”

”Oh, I just, haven’t gotten much sleep lately, that’s all. How was the conference?”

”Extremely boring. I truly did not need to be there, it could have been an email. But it did force me to relax. They have a fantastic spa in the Toronto Size Center, and the girls took me out on the town. I have to admit, it did me good - I have new plans for the serums, I think I know why they aren’t working. So I’m going to prepare new samples for tomorrow.”

”Oh, that’s good. Wait, but we’ve just prepped an entire cell block with the old serums?”

”That’s unnecessary now.”

”…and I have this report on the first cell block we tested while you were away…”

”Also unnecessary. But, I appreciate the hard work you’ve been doing while I was away, Lorilei.”

”You don’t want to read it?”

”Was there any signs of success?”

”…uh, well…no, not really…”

”I didn’t think so. Like I said, I realize where I went wrong with the old serums.”

”Okay… what about the cell block we already injected?”

Dr. McKeyla finally seemed to catch on to Lorliei’s dismayed tone. “Well… I’m sure they’ll be of use somehow. We’ll just, hold on to them for now until something comes up I suppose. You’ll have to feed them and everything though, I’m sure I won’t remember.”

”Yes, Doctor.”

”Look, why don’t you go home? You said you hadn’t slept much. I can prep tomorrow’s samples on my own. Go on.”

McKeyla took the roof off of Block C, which someone had dubbed “Bad Ones”. She was not expecting what she saw.

The cell doors were all open, there was debris everywhere, and prisoners in orange jumpsuits were running amok. The 8 guards were held captive by the prisoners, with shivs pressed to their throats, except for one who seemed to be fully unconscious, or possibly dead with a head wound. Many men were bruised and bleeding. They all looked up when the roof came off.

In the middle of the floor area was one of the prisoners who appeared to be the leader. He held a guard in a chokehold, knife angled in toward the neck just under the ear, and a megaphone in the other. “We’ve got hostages, doc! You just back away nice and calm, or we start cutting throats one by one, understand? We’re getting out of here, and if you do anything hasty, they die, got it?”

McKeyla sighed and rolled her eyes. She was tired right now, and didn’t expect to have to deal with whatever this was. She picked up the entire cell block once more.

The tiny men struggled to keep their balance. Many fell and rolled around as the floor moved beneath them. Then their cell block settled down once more, and they quickly regained their composure. The leader still had his hostage in the center, apparently being too surprised by the doctor’s action to make good on his threat. They all looked up.

They were on the floor of the lab. The doctor was standing now, towering above them in her lab coat and business attire. She was expressionless, but had her hands on her hips impatiently. They stared up at her, a feeling of terror building inside of them. The giantess lifted her black pump over the cell block. Her red soles gleaned. 

The leader was stunned. This was not going to plan. He clutched his struggling hostage tight, but more out of fear than anything else. He didn’t know what to do, had nowhere to run. He was frozen as the giant foot came down on him, not even that fast, almost performatively slow. He pissed his pants.

All the men watched as the giant shoe descended onto both prisoner and guard. It slowed when it made contact, pressing them onto the floor. It held them there just long enough for everyone to get a good look at the two men pinned beneath it like insects. Long enough to see that their struggling was futile and painful and humiliating. The giantess’s expression never changed, never showed any hint of emotion. Then she simply shifted her weight forward a bit, and the two men crunched and burst beneath her patent leather shoes.

As blood pooled from under it, McKeyla twisted her huge foot back and forth once, just a little bit, producing a squeaking, squelching noise for all to hear, and then lifted her shoe while resting on the heel. It came up with a wet sucking noise, trailing red slimy viscera. The raised sole revealed the two bodies, barely recognizable as once being human, flattened into one gory patch. She slowly turned her ankle left and right, displaying the result to all present.

The men backed away, horrified. Some of them vomited.

McKeyla, once she figured they had seen enough, lifted her foot out and scraped the remains off on the lip of the wall above them, producing a lump of gristly gore that fell with a splat into the cell block. Then she leaned over the open cell block.

”Now listen to me,” McKeyla said. “I don’t have time to deal with you all running around in there. I need order from you, not chaos. Whoever enforces this for me will live - I guarantee it. I don’t care who it is, blue, orange, whichever. The rest of you are going to die. I want men brought to me, on the floor in the middle, under my foot. When I turn them into paste, I want my shoe cleaned, each time. Otherwise, I simply crush all of you right now. Am I understood?”

She stood up to her full height and gave them a moment. She didn’t bother to zoom in with her glasses, but she assumed they were getting it sorted out, more or less. Soon after, she put her foot back into the prison, sole raised and resting on the heel again, awaiting their first sacrifice. She was patient for now, as it was their first time. If this worked, it would be more efficient in the long run.

Someone was thrown down at her foot. She cocked her head for a better look, and frowned. “The guards are useless to me, they haven’t been injected. But I appreciate the hustle. Now try again. I’m waiting.” 

Her patience was rewarded, as the tiny prisoners turned their attention to a smaller inmate. He shrieked as the larger men grabbed him and threw him down beneath her raised shoe. 

McKeyla lowered her foot and felt him crush beneath her. She looked at the monitor and saw one of the body symbols go from green to red. She nodded and picked up her notepad and started jotting down notes, mostly on the experimental enforcement technique she had just enacted. Meanwhile she had raised her shoe again. The little men stripped off their shirts and began wiping at her sole.

Her notes were rather lengthy, and when she put down her pad and looked down, they were still working away under there. “That’s much too slow,” she said, and lowered her foot onto the cleaners. She crushed two of them, while the rest jumped out of the way. She ground them into pulp, and then, to speed things, scraped that off on the wall again where she did the last one. Then she replaced her foot and picked up her pad again while the men got to work on what was left over - mostly blood and few sticky bits.

The next time she put it down, the men all scrambled away from her foot. She lifted up and turned her ankle so she could see the sole. “Better,” she said. “But still not good enough. I’ll need to see improvement. Next.”

She replaced her foot. They grabbed another small guy and tossed him down. She stepped on him, took her note, and then looked at her sole again. This time it was even cleaner. They were soaking their shirts in water from the bathroom, the sink counter and floors covered in red water. She nodded. “Marked improvement. Keep going.”

Soon the men had formed a bucket line, quickly passing down rinsed shirt-rags from the bathroom and blood soaked ones going the other way. Each time she scraped her shoe off, the remains slid down into one of the cells. Meanwhile, the strongest and meanest men systematically singled out whoever was the smallest left.

Dr. McKeyla heard a soft “Ahem,” from the intercom system in her glasses, which pinged a small man in a white jumpsuit on the floor.

She leaned down to the Shoe Crew foreman. “You and your crew can take an extended break, I won’t be needing you for some time.” The little man saluted, and headed off, and McKeyla turned her attention back to her testing.

One time, the unwilling sacrifice scrambled out away from her shoe and the men had to catch him again and drag him back. McKeyla tapped her foot impatiently, sending tremors crashing through the cell block, until they tossed him under and he pulped.

They had made her wait, so to punish them, McKeyla chose one of the enforcers at random, and ordered him to be next. They quickly beat him into submission and threw him down. This one she crushed agonizingly slowly. The men all stood by uncomfortably, listening to every cracking bone, gurgling plea for help, and finally the slow, wet crunch of his body.

”That was exactly how long you made me wait,” McKeyla said. She lifted her sole for the cleaning. “The next time I have to wait, you will all be cleaning with your tongues. Understood?”

From then on, the rest of the sacrifices were each quickly beaten so thoroughly they could not even attempt to escape.

Much later, the amount of men remaining had thinned, and everyone was extremely tense. There were a dozen men left, divided into two groups: The bucket line had decided to group up and defend themselves in a corner, and the enforcers had them surrounded but were unable to break them. Everyone else had been victims of Darwinism, except the remaining guards who had been locked in a cell.

McKeyla, tapping her foot loudly with her arms crossed, sighed. The men looked up at her, either desperately or accusingly. She saw a stalemate. “All right,” she said, and raised her other foot over the bucket crew in the corner. “Well, this experiment is over.”  

She stepped down into the group. Most of them dove out of the way, but she still crushed three of them completely, and another one in half. She swung her other foot over the wall, and smashed two more who were scrambling away. “Of course I can’t actually let any of you live - Useful as you’ve proven yourselves, you might try to escape.” 

With both feet in the cell block, she began stepping on all of them. Her black patent leather pumps followed the screaming men as they ran around like rats trapped in a cage, smashing their guts out with each carefully placed step. They tried to climb up the walls but it was impossible. Even when a couple managed to work together for a few moments to boost one higher, the giant doctor pushed them down under her shoe and mashed them both into paste. One backed himself into a corner, hoping he would be safe there, but she used the pointed toebox of her pump to crush him, and a thick jet of blood shot up the walls and onto her shoe. She was already looking behind her, and walked backward, carefully squashing one more.

Eventually the last one, desperately out of his mind, tried to get into the cell where the guards were being held. He didn’t have the key and was trying to squeeze through the bars. McKeyla used her shoe to help him by pressing him through like hamburger meat through a grinder, much to the horror of the guards. 

She didn’t need the guards since they hadn’t been injected, and definitely didn’t need any witnesses. So she raised her pump, dripping with gore, over the cell stuffed with 7 guards. She couldn’t quite fit her whole foot down into the small room, at least until the walls shattered beneath her weight and allowed her to fully step down into the wriggling, screaming bodies. They burst and splattered under her shoe. She twisted her foot back and forth. When she was satisfied, she scraped the thick layer of gore off on the lip of the wall, and inspected the cell block. The floor was littered with flattened bodies, and the walls were splattered with blood. She went about and casually stepped on any remains that were still twitching or not completely flat.

”Athena, are there any left?”

”There are no surviving inmates of Cell Block C.”

She sighed, and scraped off her soles before stepping out of the box. Still no real results, but maybe something from the debacle could be used in future. She sat down heavily in her chair and hailed the shoe crew to come back in while she considered the next step.