EVERYONE HAD EXPERIENCED emotional rollercoasters. Happy one second, sad the next, maybe happy again a second later. They came in all forms. Hearing about a death only to find out it wasn’t true, getting a bonus on your paycheck only to realize it was already practically gone, or getting dumped at the altar.
     Kaylee had been through plenty of those emotional waves during her seventeen years of life, but none had compared to what she was experiencing now. Minutes ago, she had faced the possibility of death. Then, with one strong climb and a sprint, she was given new life. But now, as she stood in a white bikini on an impossibly vast hardwood floor next to a dime whose ridge came up to her ankles, she felt a sort of terrible limbo that was far worse than death. There was a finality to death, an extinguishing of a flame. But this was different. This was cruel. She just wished it would end.
     With her stood four other girls, all a little older, from eighteen to twenty-one. She knew them well, bonding through the pledge process, making it all the way to the final test. They treated her okay, even though her braces had been brought up on more than one occasion, and very nearly cost her a spot for being too young. She found it ironic that the sorority would spat over the ethics of disposing of a minor while simultaneously discussing whether it was more pleasurable to chew up or swallow a victim whole in practically the same breath.
     Standing what felt like miles from Kaylee’s little group was a cluster of titanesses so large that describing them would’ve seemed like exaggeration. She had visited the Willis Tower in Chicago with her family the previous summer—her last before going off to college—and she had little doubt that each of the girls were at least twice that massive structure’s height compared to her diminutive form.
     Some of the giant girls looked hungover, some still had dresses on that grazed the floor, but most were just in panties and t-shirts. All were barefoot, each sister’s toenails painted a different color. Their skin was perfectly bronzed, all except two redheads—who were still far from pale. Some were taller than others, some had different hair, some had thicker, athletic builds while others were more traditionally slim, and all were insanely beautiful, even as the morning sunlight peered in through the window, exposing some smeared makeup…it was a walking sorority stereotype.
     At the moment, they were whispering, huddled together as they argued. Kaylee could catch only snippets.
     “Let’s just take her.”
     “But they all made it!”
     “So?”
     “Rules are rules.”
     “We’re in charge.”
     “So what?”
     “Okay, I got the answer.”
     Then they leaned in and spoke even more quietly. Kaylee couldn’t hear anything, and what emenated sounded like the trumpets of distant whales. But she had a bad feeling.
     Finally, the giantesses—all nine—turned their eyes down to the tiny group of girls. A busty, voluptuous redhead had to squint to see them, as she’d lost her glasses the night before. Within seconds, they had made a tight circle around the shrunken group, their shiny, hairless legs forming a thick forest that nearly blocked out all light. Each girl’s big toes were three times as tall as the tallest of Kaylee’s group; it was like looking up at a wall of curving, ridged flesh.
     “Okay, so here’s the deal,” the voice of Spencer boomed above. Spencer was the most athletic of the group. She was thin yet solid, with long, straightened, dirty blond hair, wide eyes and prominent front teeth. Her lipstick was hot pink, which always popped from her tan face. It matched her toenails. She was wearing black yoga pants and a tank top hugging her c-cups, the bottom of her pant legs covering her heels. It had become her trademark and it was rare to see her in a different outfit. “There are nine of us and none of us are graduating this semester, and tradition dictates that we can’t have more than ten members. So you see the problem?”
     Kaylee felt a chill. One of the other tiny girls held her hand to her mouth. She looked like she was going to throw up. Another started sobbing.
     Spencer continued, “So, we’re going to play a little game.” She turned and was handed something. “It’s called Think Fast.”
     In one, quick motion, she turned back, held a large textbook high over the group…then dropped it.
     Kaylee didn’t think fast. She didn’t think at all. She just reacted. Leaping out of the way as soon as the shadow enveloped her. She heard what sounded like a cannon firing and a whoosh of air sent her flying several feet…well to her at least. When she regained her composure and the resounding bam of the book hitting the floor faded from her ears, she sat up, heart racing, and looked to see “Biology Essentials” written in lettering taller than her house. The textbook lay on its side where her group once stood.
     All four were gone.
     Another one of the sisters, a tall senior with long, dark chocolate hair and enormous feet named Ashley, leaned down and picked up the book. Catching a brief glimpse as it was lifted into the air, Kaylee saw the corpses of her four comrades smushed against its underside, barely recognizable as human beings. On the ground were four corresponding little splotches of red, each about a centimeter wide.
     The chocolate-haired girl counted the tiny grease stains on the back of the book and wiped them off with a tissue, then casually crumpled it up and tossed it in a trash bin. Entire, promising young lives with bright futures and proud parents reduced to nothing but little red smears, disposed of no less casually than one tossed away a used tissue.
     “Congratulations!” Spencer looked down at Kaylee, who still sat stunned on the floor. “It looks like we have a winner!”

The blaring of an alarm woke Tara Winfield from her slumber as she pushed her messy black hair out of her eyes and groggily swung her feet over the edge of her twin-sized bed. Directly across from her, her dorm mate, a shorter, ditzier blonde, was already straightening her hair. 
     The clock on her nightstand read 12:00 a.m.
     “Christ,” Tara grunted as she slapped her alarm clock into silence. “Why are they doing this in the middle of the fucking night?”
     “Well if you read the—”
     “I didn’t,” she cut her off, retreating to her closet to put on some clothes.
     “Well, if you did read up on the history, you’d know that Omega holds all their initiations at one in the morning. Keeps things more secret.”
     “Keep things more stupid.”
     Amy ignored her, very aware of her friend’s reluctance to rush for the Omega sorority, one of the most exclusive on campus. They held their own parties…no outside members ever. None of them were in relationships. And they only had ten members every year, no more and no less.
     What was most mysterious, however, was the initiation process.
     Ten girls were selected to compete after an initial round of interviews wherein up to a hundred sat in a small room answering questions about life and philosophy, and then only one was selected from those ten. And the other nine? They’d all drop out. Every one of them. Withdraw from school without telling a soul, never to be seen again.
     But at the end of the day, it was still just a stupid sorority, Tara often thought. One she had no interest in joining and had only interviewed for to appease her overly enthusiastic dorm mate, whose head Tara was convinced contained a hollow cavity rather than an actual brain (she once spelled “around” as “erown” in Words with Friends). She tried to get kicked out of the initial screening by answering all the questions in one word, with a monotone befitting an automated message. Miraculously, though, and much to her chagrin, she had made it to the second cut.
     And now, she found herself walking across campus on a dreary fall night to the auxiliary gym at the twelve-thirty in the morning on a fucking school night. Amy may not have been sharp enough to cut melted butter, but Tara was smart, and her focus was on getting into med school and becoming a doctor, not paying to have friends.
     When they went inside, they found the eight other members of their pledge class already seated quietly at desks lined up near the front of the gym. Tara knew most of their names, but didn’t really know them. Jessie, a bubbly brunette with long hair and huge front teeth with some overly sweet southern accent. Sara, a skinny German exchange student who spoke in broken English. Nikki, a dirty-blond party girl who had this fake badass thing going on, as evidenced by her flat-brimmed hats and nose studs. Lindsay, another student from abroad, an Aussie who almost looked biracial. Melissa, the token diva girl with long, very curly blond hair who was constantly smacking her lips with gum. Zelda…who had pink hair, and that’s all she really needed to know. Bailey, a brunette with an upturned nose that made her look like a Who from Whoville. And finally Erin, an overly bubbly redhead who’d be the first to die in a horror movie simply based on the fact that she never shut the hell up.
     Tonight, they were all quiet. The smacking of flip-flops echoed in the vast emptiness of the gymnasium as Tara and Amy made their way to the last two empty seats, all eyes following them as if they’d just committed some great crime.
     Especially the sisters.
     Sitting at a long table facing the pledges like judges before defendants, the nine sisters of Omega sat with gold-plated name plaques. Each one was different, unique, and beautiful. In the middle sat Spencer, the de facto president of Omega. When Tara and Amy took their seats, she coughed, sighed, crossed her arms and addressed the group, “So, tonight you’ll all be participating in the final selection. In a few hours, one of you will become the newest member of Omega. But first, we just need all of your information.”
     One of the other sisters, Jenna, went around and passed forms out to the pledges. Jenna was a thicker girl, but not fat. She played on the school’s soccer team and it definitely showed; sure, she had a little bit of muffin top, but her powerful arms and legs, long, flowing blond hair and bright blue eyes made her goddess-like, a true All American girl.
     The pledges started filling out the forms, which were just basics. Name, height, weight, address, relatives, whatever. Tara didn’t know what they needed some of the information for, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get the night over with as fast as possible so she could concentrate on more important things.
     Amy was in the middle of filling out her form when she caught one of the sisters staring at her with her finger in her mouth. It was oddly seductive in a way, and she wondered if that’s indeed what she was trying. Using her peripherals, Amy stared back. The sister’s name was Hailey, one of the quietest members of the group. With hair somewhere between dark red and dark brown, freckles dotting her face and two nose studs, Hailey was easily the punkiest of the group. But she never spoke. Ever. Amy had never heard her utter a single word and, as a result often forgot about her.
     Until tonight.
     Why is she staring?!
     Amy couldn’t take it anymore. She glanced up, being as casual as she could, and examined Hailey. The sister was still staring at her, her shoulders lazily dropped, her right leg crossed over her left and a flip-flop swinging off her bare foot.
     That’s when Amy noticed something peculiar.
     On the sole, up front right at the ball, behind the toes, was a tattoo on the underside of the sister's foot. Amy squinted across the room to see it, and after a few seconds, was able to make it out clearly, the words written in girly cursive: “Bye Bye,” with a little red lipstick print.
     “Bye Bye” tattooed to the ball of her foot? Weird, Amy thought, trying to figure out what it could have meant. Maybe she was a kickboxer or something?
     The answer eluded her for now, but it wouldn’t be long before she wished she’d never found out…


When everyone had filled out their forms, they were led into a locker room, where they found white bikinis waiting for them. They were instructed to put them on and wait. Tara thought about leaving right then and there, since they were probably going to make them run around the campus in swimsuits until the last one who hadn’t died of embarrassment was deemed the winner, but she figured she’d humor them.
     After a few minutes, once they were all dressed, their clothes neatly tucked into lockers, the pledges were immersed in darkness. There was a brief spout of panic, before Tara felt her head go light, her body go limp, and then, she closed her eyes and felt nothing at all.

Tara stirred from her slumber to find herself in a darkened room with bare walls. The floor was surprisingly soft, as if it’d been lined by a quilt. She heard the groans of the other girls around her, but it was pitch black. 
     “Amy!” she called into the darkness. “Amy, you there?”
     “I’m here!” Amy coughed. “What happened?”
     “No idea…”
     Faint sobs echoed around the room.
     “Is everyone in here?” came the sweet southern voice of Jessie. “I can’t see nothin’ at all!”
     “I’m sure we’re in a fucking closet or something,” said Melissa in her usual condescending tone.
     “I don’t know, it feels kinda—”
     Then, the roof opened up fifty feet over their heads, bright white light pouring into the room. The pledges looked around to see that the walls were gray with a sort of cardboard texture, and the expansive floor was indeed some kind of white fabric. In the middle of the space, there was a sort of raised lip about a foot high, round like a fountain, with an etching going across the—
     Tara shuddered when she realized what it was.
     “Oh…my…god…” Bailey put her hand to her mouth as she realized it too. Sara started crying and speaking in quick, panicked German. They sounded like prayers.
Tara, in a state of half shock, walked up to the massive object and touched its metal surface.
     A dime.
     A dime about ten-fifteen feet across, with the ridge over a foot high.
     “What the fuck?!” Melissa blurted.
     Everything else seemed to come together, even if Tara couldn’t believe it. A giant dime. The floor was toilet paper. The walls looked like cardboard because they were cardboard. They were in a gift box of some kind, the kind used for cheap jewelry.
     “Are we shrunk!?” Nikki asked, rubbing her hands nervously.
     “No way,” Lindsay said with her Australian accent, looking around the room. “This has got to be some kind of prank. I mean, they sell these right big coins at party stores.”
     “Not this big…” Tara said.
     It was only a matter of time before Erin started bumbling, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
     “Erin, shut up,” Melissa demanded.
     “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, oh my god, oh my—”
     “Shut up!” Mel slapped her on the back of the head.
     “Hey!” Tara shouted. “That’s enough. If we’re going to figure a way out of this, we better start taking stock. Let’s see,” she looked over the dime. “Dimes are 18 millimeters across, and at least three of us and fit across from head to toe, so…”
     Amy was sniffling next to her friend, afraid to even speak, her eyes darting nervously to and fro.
     “We’re each about five millimeters tall,” Tara gulped.
     “How big’s that?” Nikki asked. Her inner city upbringing obviously hadn’t included the best education.
     “Half a centimeter.”
     Nikki thought for a moment, “Um, and how big is that?”
     “You people are ridiculous!” Lindsay said, shaking her head. “You actually think we shrunk? Or we could shrink? Unbelievable.” Strutting across the room in her white bikini, she started pounding on a wall, “Hello? Alright, the joke’s gone far enough! These people are scared! Open the door!”
     As if to answer, the room rocked, then started to tip. The tiny pledges slid, screaming in terror, as they were dumped out onto the solid white surface…of a round table in the middle of an apartment kitchen.
     And hundreds of feet above, surrounded on all sides, the smiling faces of the Omega titanesses looked down at them.
     Half nearly peed their bikinis. Almost all of them screamed.
     “Shhh!” Spencer held a gigantic finger to her lips to shush the micro girls.
     It didn’t work.
     They continued to yell and hold each other, all except Tara, who stared slack jawed in disbelief as Amy clung to her arm in terror.
     Spencer shot one of her sisters an annoyed look, who answered with a nod. Ashley, who Tara recognized as one of the school’s basketball players at well over six feet tall, with chocolate brown hair and olive skin with a thick physique, turned around and grabbed a fly swatter. Which she then proceeded to hold ominously over the group. She could’ve flattened all ten with one smack.
     Reluctantly, the micro girls shut up, standing huddled together in the shadow of the swatter.
     “So, this is how it works,” Spencer explained, her voice booming, nearly shaking the ground beneath the tiny micro girls. “We’re going to play Hide and Seek, extreme edition. In four hours and five minutes, whichever one of you hasn’t been found yet becomes a proud member of the Omega sorority.”
     “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Nikki whispered, giving herself false reassurance that everything was going to be okay.
     Assurance Spencer was more than happy to shoot down the next moment. “But if you’re found,” she smiled, “well, it’s probably best to demonstrate.” She gave one of the other sisters a nod and she disappeared into a nearby bedroom. The sister was Caitie, a Jersey girl through and through. Caitie had what one might call a rubenesque physique, but not quite fat; a light muffin top poked out between her white shorts and purple cutoff top. At one point, she had played soccer in high school, but then quit to focus on drinking beer…and it showed. She was still beautiful in a way, but her bitchy attitude and nasally voice perfectly accented her fake tan and jet black hair. When she returned, she dropped something to the table a few dozen yards in front of the group of pledges and stood back with a sadistic smile and her hands on her hips.
     “Oh god…” Tara whispered to herself when she realized what it was.
     Another micro girl. This one was wrapped up in thread, as a spider did to its potential meal, with only her head poking out. She was a blonde, with olive skin, sobbing uncontrollably.
     And everyone immediately recognized her.
     Katie Jordan wriggled and writhed in her trap, no more than a quarter of an inch tall, struggling futilely to escape. Katie was the president of the Delta Zeta sorority, and in an effort to sway pledges from Omega, had run a smear campaign earlier in the year focusing on Omega’s secrecy and the fact that nearly every girl in it was a reclusive brat. It was the first time anyone had publicly spoken out against Omega.
     And Tara got the sickening feeling that it was going to be the last.
     “All of your names are on the wall here,” Spencer nodded to what looked like a scoreboard hanging on the wall. The ten names of each pledge were listed alphabetically, each with a green light glowing next to them. And at the bottom was an eleventh name: Katie Jordan. “Allow us to demonstrate how we keep track of who gets found.”
In one swooping motion, Caitie stepped forward and placed the bottom of her right wrist on the table, then extended her index finger—which looked for all the world like the fuselage of a jumbo jet made of flesh. The tip hovered over Katie, waiting for the word.
     “No! Please!” Katie begged through tears, looking up at the menacing ridges along the bottom of Caitie’s finger. “I have a little sister! She looks up to me, please! Pleeeeaaaasssseee oh god pleeeaaassseeee!”
     “And don’t think,” Spencer spoke to the micro girls as Katie continued to squirm and screech, “that you can just find a place and hang out for a few hours. If you don’t move at least a foot every minute, an alarm goes off with your location. That keeps things more interesting, kind of a cat a mouse thing. Or,” she thought, “more like pissed off girls and ants kind of thing.” She looked at Caitie, then nodded.
     “No!” Katie screamed once more. “Please! Please! I don’t want to die! I have so much to live for! I don’t want to—”
     It all happened so fast.
     There was no fading scream of terror nor a sickening crunch of bones. One second, Katie Jordan, who obviously had a bright future, was pleading for her life and the next moment, Caitie the bitchy Jersey girl slapped her index finger to the surface of the table in an impossibly quick motion, bringing Katie’s pleas to an abrupt end. After twisting her fingertip for a second, Caitie peeled it back, revealing the smushed corpse of Katie Jordan stuck to her finger, a bright red splotch on the table where she once lay. And as casually as one would after a good meal, Caitie sucked the miniscule remains of the DZ president off her fingertip, licking her lips afterward.
     A buzzer went off near the wall as the light next to Katie Jordan’s name turned red.
     The micro pledges were in shock, afraid to move, unable to contemplate what had just happened, unable to believe that a proud, beautiful woman a few months from graduating, getting married and pursuing her goals was converted to no more than a little stain of worthless grease on the underside of a massive bitch’s finger, the only remains of a promising life now traveling through the digestive system of a woman who probably couldn’t pass basic math.
     “So,” Spencer clapped her hands together. “You all know the stakes now. We’re going to separate everyone into different parts of the apartment, and then the fun begins. Good luck!”

The music reverberated throughout the big apartment with hardwood floors. The gigantic sisters were all barefoot now, all dancing in the living room with solo cups, in either dresses or shorts, all except Spencer, who remained in her trademark yoga pants. And in the walk-in kitchen, hiding beneath a cabinet amongst cookie crumbs and dust bunnies the size of beach balls, Jessie Townsend stood shivering in her white bikini, looking out over the pure white linoleum floor, a sea of gloss stretching for at least a mile to the hardwood foyer. 
     Jessie had grown up in Fort Mill, a mid-sized city in South Carolina. Raised in a traditional Christian family, the quarter-inch girl had dreams of moving to a big city, despite the objections from her parents. She’d been warned of the dangers, but believed in the good. But now, here she was, wondering if she’d be stamped out by the end of the night, the last thing in her memory being scooped up by one of the sisters and separated from the rest of the pledges, music now thumping through her ears as the mighty footfalls of the colossal women shook the floor.
     No. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t going to die tonight.
     They wouldn’t be so heartless.
     She thought of Katie Jordan, and her pleas for mercy before being squished beneath the fingertip of a giantess Guido, whose only contribution to the world would be keeping the university tanning salon in business. How could they do that to her?
     But then, she fooled herself into a thought that would ultimately lead to her downfall: it wasn’t they, it was she. Caitie killed her. Not the others. There had to be one, one, with a heart.
     And she knew just which one it was. The one who, during interviews, seemed the most uncomfortable with the very idea of being in the sorority to begin with.
     Kaylee. The sophomore with braces and pigtails. Sweet and innocent and shy.
     She’d be the savior.
     Upon the realization that she’d lost track of how long it’d been since she last moved, Jessie broke off in a full sprint across the kitchen floor, toward the foyer, to find Kaylee.
     With a newfound strength, the southern sweetheart with long brown hair and a mild tooth gap took off across the kitchen floor as fast as her legs could carry her. From above, she was but a black speck moving sluggishly across the void of white, an ant crossing a desert. When she finally reached the hardwood, she leaned over and panted, her feet hurting, her legs burning. To her left, she could see the towering goddesses, impossibly huge, and feel the vibrations from each of their massive steps make their way through the floor.
     And then, she heard another sound.
     A sound that chilled her to the bone.
     The loud, sharp clicking of a lock as a door to the right opened, and right outside loomed Lucie Song, a beautiful Asian woman of 22 with auburn hair tied back in a tight ponytail, a blue dress and black high heels. Her wide eyes looked guilty as the other goddesses turned to her. “Sorry I’m late!” she said with a smile before closing the door, kicking off her football field-sized shoes, and stepping over the cringing Jessie below. The sole of Lucie’s beautiful, colossal foot, pink all around with tanned edges, swooped over the shrunken pledge as casually as one would step over an unnoticed speck of dust. As Lucie’s heel came smashing down to the hardwood but inches from Jessie, the micro girl fell back in the gust of wind and watched as the titaness stomped away to join the others.
     Jessie, meanwhile, lay on the floor, unable to shake the image of the bottom of Lucie’s foot as it momentarily loomed over her. She couldn’t believe it; a woman no taller than five-foot-four had the power to smush Jessie out of existence, and she may not have even noticed.
     “Ah, there you are!” came another voice.
     Jessie felt a wave of absolute terror as she turned to see…none other than Kaylee, the youngest sorority sister, as she stood on her haunches in the hallway, staring down at the tiny creature before her. Jessie couldn’t move, paralyzed with fear.
     “It’s okay!” Kaylee whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you!”
     Success. Like the Earth had been lifted from the shoulders of Atlas, Jessie had never felt more relieved in her life. She’d been right. Kaylee had a heart.
     “I’m going to pick you up, don’t freak out, okay?”
     Jessie nodded as Kaylee carefully leaned forward and grasped the micro girl between her thumb and forefinger. Jessie was buried in the flesh of Kaylee’s fingertips; she felt as if she’d been wedged between two hot air balloons. She barely noticed the sensation of being lifted off the ground, the world becoming a blur. She could feel footsteps, could hear muffled music, she could barely breathe, but alas felt totally safe.
     Until, she felt the world give out from beneath her.
     Kaylee opened her fingers, and Jessie felt the world drop. Air rushed up past her as her hair fluttered in the wind. And then, she felt cold…and wet.

The music nearly stopped as all eyes in the room turned to Caitie the Jersey girl as she stood with her cup of beer amongst her sisters. Seconds earlier, Kaylee had walked by and playfully dropped something in it. Now, as Caitie looked down into her cup, she realized: she got the prize.
     “You know what this means!” Kaylee said with her hands on her hips, the words slicing through Jessie’s heart at the realization of her savior’s betrayal.
     And then, all the girls shouted in unison: “Chug!”
     Caitie smiled at the little speck in her beer, no bigger than an ant, swimming to the edge of the cup, obviously confused and heartbroken. Then, she raised the edge of the cup to her lips and tilted back…
     Jessie struggled against the raging rapid of amber liquid, swimming with all her might against the current. Behind her, the gaping maw of Caitie’s mouth stretched the width an arena, pitch black within, her teeth hanging like massive stalactites. Within seconds, she simply couldn’t fight anymore, feeling all her strength leave her as she was sucked into the cave.
     Caitie pulled the cup away from her lips and closed her mouth. She swished the beer around inside as her sisters looked on with glee. Inside, Jessie was going through hell, unable to breathe, unable to think.
     Now was time for the fun part.
     Caitie slowly started swallowing the beer, feeling for the little girl trapped inside. In the darkness, Jessie felt something squishy at her feet—realizing with horror that it was her captor’s tongue—before she was finally sucked back into the abyss.
     To Caitie, it was like swallowing a grain of rice. She let out a smile as soon as she felt Jessie slink to the back of her throat, then swallowed with an audible gulp. Inside, Jessie was in a borderline freefall, until finally she felt gravity push her into the pits of Caitie’s stomach, and landed in a shallow pool of acid that was already burning. It was pitch black inside. Jessie felt itchy all over. Then a pain, a burning so intense that her only wish was not for escape, but that she would pass out as soon as possible.

A few minutes later, as Caitie sat on the couch with her legs crossed, talking to another one of her sisters, she felt a slight tingle in her stomach as the scoreboard buzzed, a red light flashing next to Jessie Townsend’s name. And she smiled, taking satisfaction in the fact that Jessie, a girl from a small town with big dreams, all she ever was or ever would be, was now nothing but liquefied mush she’d shit out tomorrow and flush away forever.

Amy was terrified, her head to her knees as she leaned against the cold ceramic base of the toilet, crying. How had this happened to her? She’d always been the daddy’s girl type, with her overprotective father no more than a phone call away, whether she needed gas money or money for a night out. But at the same time, everyone else always sort of resented her for it. She was treated like a blondie princess, and more often than not she’d catch jealous looks from her peers, which made it difficult to make friends…probably why she attached herself so fondly to her roommate Tara, even if they had only been randomly assigned by the school. 
     Omega was to be her outlet, but now she didn’t know what to think. The world around her was alien. The white linoleum of the bathroom floor stretched far and away, the side wall of the bathtub may as well have been an impossibly high barrier and her only solace was to hide by the—
     There was a sound. A loud, waning creak…the door to the bathroom opened, and inside stepped a pair of enormous feet, easily fifty yards long. They were pale, with faded pink stretching up around the sides and bright green toenails—a color Amy found ironically playful. Amy couldn’t tell which sister it was, but her enormous pads made a peeling sound as they traipsed across the floor, the shadow of the girl’s impossibly huge body enveloping Amy as…
     …Hailey pulled down her shorts and plopped to the toilet. With a sigh, she let everything out, humming as she looked around the bathroom, bored, while she peed.
     Little did she know, that below her in the shadows sat a trembling creature no larger than an ant, staring up at Hailey’s colossal form that to the miniscule Amy was easily three times taller than the tallest skyscrapers. The sound of Hailey’s pee hitting the water rang through Amy’s tiny ears, causing her great pain.
     Hailey continued to hum as she sat her feet flat on the floor in front of her, casually lifting her bare heels up and down.
     Amy couldn’t take it anymore. The ringing was too much. She fell forward, beneath a massive shadow…the wide heel of Hailey’s right foot. Falling to her back, covering head from the ear splitting sound, she looked up in terror as the sorority sister’s heel made its descent right toward her. She panicked, feeling nothing but pure terror as the fleshy pink heel made its way closer, the little pieces of dirt and carpet hairs visible all too clearly at the bottom of Hailey’s foot as the darkness of the shadow enveloped her, preparing to smush her into oblivion without notice…
     …but then, Hailey felt a tickle.
     A tiny, insignificant tickle on the bottom of her right heel that made her freeze. She finished peeing and gently moved her foot to the side, then squinted to see the kicking ant-woman far below.
     Her favorite one.
     She licked her lips, unable to believe her own luck. Pulling up her soffe shorts, she stood to her full height as Amy looked up in fear from far, far below.
     Looking up at the red-haired goddess gave Amy vertigo. She almost felt sick to her stomach as she looked up at Hailey’s big toe, which stood but a few inches before her, larger than a two-story house.
     Then, ominously, the toe slowly began to rise.
     Amy couldn’t move. A part of her knew what was coming. She was too busy going through her life in her head, figuring out what went wrong, what she could’ve done different, and, most importantly, what she had done to deserve this. She had dreams, goals, fantasies of living a normal, fun life. Yet now she was looking up, unable to flee, at a living goddess over 1,400 feet high.
     Hailey lifted her right foot and dangled it playfully over Amy, which to the miniscule girl stretched over 200 feet from toe-to-heel. Then, she gave a cute wave to the woman below right before slowly letting her sole begin its descent. Suddenly, Amy thought, the meaning of the tattoo on the bottom of Hailey’s foot became clear: she was about to go bye-bye.
     With her last breath, Amy began to let out a scream before Hailey casually stomped down, feeling a light squelch beneath the ball of her foot. Nothing dramatic. No slow motion, break-every-individual-bone-one-at-a-time sort of thing to draw out the pain. She didn’t like that. She liked to treat them like the pathetic little bugs they were. An exterminator wasted no time torturing a roach.
     Just a quick little stomp, nothing more.
     A tiny twist of her bare foot later, Hailey sat back down on the toilet and lifted it over her knee, examining the little red splotch on her sole, no wider than the diameter of a dime. Squinting, she could almost make out bits of hair or tiny white fabric, but it was mostly just a droplet-sized red grease stain that only moments ago had been a living, breathing human being with years of life experience…now reduced to a tiny little droplet of dead goo. Hailey smiled as she realized she’d managed to squish Amy almost perfectly right between the pink lipstick mark printed on her sole.
     Then, with a quick wipe of some toilet paper, the little red stain was flushed down the drain, erased from existence. And outside, a buzzer sounded as a little red light lit up next to Amy’s name on the scoreboard.

Nikki hated the stupid sorority thing. She only did it to prove to her parents that she was doing something besides getting high all the time. The oldest of the her pledge class, Nikki had agreed only to rush for the sorority to keep the tuition money from her parents flowing.
     But as the dirty blonde 25-year-old stared at the underside of a colossal bare foot from relative safety beneath a bed in some random bedroom in the apartment, she was beginning to wish she’d just dropped out…or studied…whichever was easier.
     “I’ll probably let him take me out a few more times for the free food, but I’ll drop it after that,” said Spencer, the sisterhood’s leader as she sat at a chair near the bed, her black yoga pants rolled up just below her smooth, tan legs.
     “Yeah, I’ve been there,” came the booming voice of Ashley, the 6-foot 2-inch, 180-pound star basketball player of the college. She was sitting on the bed, sporting nothing but a white tank top and panties, her olive skin accentuated by hair so dark that it bordered on black. One foot dangled over the edge of the bed, perfect toe nails painted cherry red, swinging casually back and forth. The bottom of her foot was a light pink, which sharply contrasted the golden tan that so made up the top.
     To the quarter-inch Nikki far below, the foot swung like a massive ship of flesh, beautifully hypnotic, the wrinkles in the sole large enough to wedge herself in between if she so chose.
     But she knew she’d never get out.
     Backing away, she looked around the massive bedroom, trying to figure out where to go…
     Above, Spencer opened a desk drawer and emptied the contents of a plastic baggie onto the bed. A familiar scent filled the room…one Nikki was utterly familiar with…and soon Spencer was cutting and rolling green marijuana into papers as the two titanic women continued their utterly pointless conversation.
     Below, Nikki continued her frantic search for an exit, knowing she had only a few moments before the sisterhood was alerted that she hadn’t moved. Above, she heard something to the effect of, “Hopefully one of the little shits shows up soon, last year I didn’t get to step on any of them.” Nikki didn’t know which one said it, but she didn’t care. A foot was a foot. She’d squish all the same. She had more important things to figure out, like finding a new hiding spot.
     As she started toward the back of the bed, away from the building-sized foot, she heard a scraping sound from far above, like a flicking, and then—
     From behind her, there was a clanking so loud that she had to cover her ears. When she turned, she saw what appeared to be a purple, plastic lighter the size of a tractor trailer lying on its side. Then, slowly, a hand descended from above, the 80-foot-long fingers clasping the lighter.
     Nikki froze in fear, watching the massive digits pull the lighter skyward and out of view.
     That is, until, with a curious glance, Ashley took a peek under the bed, and in that next moment Nikki was faced with an eyeball bigger than a swimming pool staring directly at her, a wide smile forming over the basketball star’s face.
     “Well, look what we have here.”
     Nikki tried to run, but it was to no avail. She found herself caught between the thumb and forefinger of the colossal woman, squeezed so tightly that she unable to move let alone breathe. To Ashley, it was like pinching a speck of dust or a small pebble. Spreading her hand, the micro-sized Nikki rolled down Ashley’s finger and onto the basketball court-sized expanse of the giantess’s palm, the ridges almost up to her ankles. She tried to stand, but her wobbly, terrified legs combined with the excited shaking of Ashley’s open hand wouldn’t allow her.
     “Hmm,” Ashley smiled a wicked grin as Spencer—standing seven inches shorter—looked on. “Not to be too obvious with the foreshadowing, but I think I know what my next step is going to be!” She clenched her toes as she spoke.
     The words sent a chill down Nikki’s spine. Tears formed around her eyes. Not like this. Not like this.
     “Really?” Spencer put her hands on her hips. “That’s it?”
     “Yah, I want to squish it.”
     It. Nicole Stout had a boyfriend she loved and who was probably thinking about her right now. Parents. Friends. A life. But in that moment, she had been reduced to an it.
     “I’ve got a better idea,” Spencer said, plucking the tiny Nikki from Ashley’s palm. “I’ve always wanted to try this.”
     Ashley looked on curiously as Spencer flattened out a roll of cigarette paper with one hand and plopped Nikki down onto it, then proceeded to sprinkle flakes of pot over the shrunken pledge as it screamed and screamed for a mercy that would never come. Spencer rolled the paper over the squirming womant, reducing her cries of terror to muffles.
     Then, she placed one end in her mouth and lit it up.
     Ashley and Spencer passed the joint back and forth, the tiny bit of extra flavor wriggling and screaming in the middle. Through the paper, they could hear her muffled bawls as the flame grew nearer and nearer with each puff the two goddesses shared.
     Inside, Nikki’s world had become a literal hell. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t open her eyes. The moment she did, they burned so bad that she could feel her eyeballs start melting away. The heat was so intense that it was almost cool, frying the nerves in her skin. She screamed and coughed, but her wheezes became pathetic and inaudible as the flame neared. She tried to cry as the pain intensified and she felt yet another rush of smoke—another puff taken by one of the sisters—pass over her burning body. She coughed, and coughed, and coughed, and—
     Ashley coughed, dropping the joint to the floor. She didn’t smoke as much as Spencer and it showed. The joint broke apart below, its ashes spreading, the orange embers immediately fading.
     “Good job!” Spencer rolled her eyes, half-aggravated, half-joking.
     On the hardwood floor, they could make out the tiny, quarter-inch-long body of Nikki, most of her hair burned away, her body charred.
     “Is it alive?” Ashley asked.
     “Let me see.” Spencer got down on her haunches and picked up the little thing out of the soot. The ash blackened her finger, but from the tiny creature came a pathetic little cough. “Yep,” Spencer laughed.
     “Well then, ahem,” Ashley cleared her throat and pointed at her feet.
     “Ugh, fine, if you want to be boring.”
     “I prefer the term ‘simplicity.’”
     Spencer gave in and dropped Nikki. The micro girl would have felt something if she could have felt anything, but her body had given up. All that remained was a shred of blurry consciousness. She didn’t even feel herself hit the floor. But through her foggy vision, looking straight up, she could see the colossal sole of Ashley as the giant woman pivoted her foot on her heel. Engulfed by shadow, the last thing Nikki saw was the ball of the basketball star’s bare foot—itself the size of a building—rush down at her before everything cut to black.
     “Ah!” Ashley sighed. “That’s better!” She let the squished body of the pledge soak into the hardwood for a bit, then sat down on the bed as the buzzer rang outside. Lifting her foot, she and Spencer admired the stain—part red, part black from the ash—barely visible, smushed against her sole.

Half drunk already, sisters Jenna and Rouge made their way into an upstairs bedroom and closed the door, locking it tight. Jenna, the all-American soccer star with blond hair and a thick, powerful build, playfully threw Rouge to the bed with a smile. Rouge was a redhead with glasses and a body most would describe as voluptuous. She was thick around the edges, with pale skin dappled pink all around.
     Jenna and Rouge had been fooling around since they met. An older sister, Jenna had actually spared Rouge’s life a few semesters back during Rouge’s pledge night. She plucked the quarter-inch redhead from a countertop and had every intention of making her a flip-flop grease stain, but when she looked closely and saw Rouge’s diva-like beauty, she knew there was only one thing she’d like more than snuffing the little creature out: getting her tongue between her legs. 
     Jenna had always been into girls exclusively. While Rouge wasn’t, she had no problem letting her blonde compatriot go to town on her now and then. Tonight was only slightly different from most nights, in that Jenna had something gently cupped in one of her hands…
     Rouge slipped off her shirt and sat at the edge of the bed, leaning her back against the mattress while Jenna got down on her knees and tore off her panties, exposing Rouge’s trimmed lips, already throbbing and ready for a tongue. Jenna lifted her closed fist to Rouge’s pussy and held it very close, “See that, itty bitty? That’s going to be your new home pretty soon.”
     “Hurry up!” Rouge demanded playfully.
     “I’m playing up the drama!”
     “I don’t care! Get your fucking face in there!” Rouge reached forward and pushed Jenna’s face between her legs. Jenna dug in with her tongue, swirling around Rouge’s already moist pussy lips, suckling her throbbing clit, feeling the warmth of her freshly-shaved inner thighs brushing against her cheeks as Rouge’s toes gripped Jenna’s bare back in ecstasy, the redhead moaning in pleasure.
     All the while, a quarter-inch Melissa was trapped in the soccer blonde’s closed fist. Jenna pushed her tongue inside and swirled around. It wasn’t long before Rouge was pulsing juices. “I want more than one person inside me!” the redhead panted.
     “Coming up!”
     Melissa had been kicked out of two sororities before pledging for Omega. She had a bad habit of opening her legs to any guy who told her hello, including her former sisters’ boyfriends. She was no stranger to threesomes, usually with one guy behind and one guy in front. Two girls was a first for her. And would be her last.
     Jenna carefully rolled the ant-sized woman around the palm of her hand, playfully pressing down on her back with her fingertip. She screamed, but Jenna could barely hear it. With one hand spreading the lips of Rouge’s sex, the other pinched the tiny Melissa between the thumb and index finger and moved it closer to its destination.
     “Please! Stop!” Melissa’s screams were to no avail.
     Rouge sat up the best she could to watch as the micro girl was inserted, Jenna burying her fingers down to the first knuckle, the thick redhead gasped in ecstasy. When Jenna pulled out her fingers, the lips closed shut and the morsel was nowhere to be seen.
     Inside, Melissa was in hell. She could barely breathe. The aroma burnt her nose. It was pitch black and she was being hugged by slimy walls. For a moment, there was a brief sliver of light that was quickly extinguished, replaced by a tongue the size of a building…
     Jenna pushed her tongue deep inside. She could taste the micro girl, feel her kicks.
     “Oh…my…god!” Rouge screamed, holding Jenna’s head in her crotch, pushing her deeper inside.
     Melissa felt the tongue push her deeper. She tried to scream, but her mouth was filled with pussy choice the second she opened it.
     “You’re almost there! You’re almost there!” Rouge yelled. "Just like that!"
     Melissa felt the walls contract, squeezing her even tighter and tighter before a wall of hot juice swept her toward the opening of Rouge’s sex…
     …and Jenna felt a tiny lump move down her throat as she swallowed the fluids of Rouge’s orgasm. Rouge shuddered as her body relaxed. Jenna stood up and rubbed her stomach, licking her lips, as a buzzer rang in the other room.