Meanwhile, upstairs

Wandering through the rooms on the upper floor, most seemed sterile, like they possessed no soul or vibrant sense of having been lived in.

Arriving at what John believed to be the master bedroom, the air in the room held a hint of some alluring fragrance, subtle, teasing the senses. A gigantic bed with night tables, an embroidered duvet hanging down, vanity, dressers filled the enormous room. There was an open door on the opposite wall leading into another bathroom. Most of the wooden floor was covered in a rich ornate carpet.

“This must be Simone’s room,” John said, closing his eyes and inhaling the tantalizing scent.

Walking across the carpet covering the floor, they circled around the end of the bed. In the corner of the room was metal stand towering many feet in height, like a coat tree except three delicate gold colored birdcages hung from it, all empty.

“Look,” said Blake, pointing to the cup and saucer on the floor at the foot of the metal stand and moving in that direction to inspect. “It’s a cookie!” he said loudly, standing by the plate and bending down to break off a piece.

John frowned, eyes still locked on the cages suspended overhead.

Following John’s eyes, “What?” Blake mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

“Where’s the birds? I mean we saw all sorts of other crap stored away in the cellar, why keep empty birdcages in your room, doesn’t make sense does it?”

Blake shrugged, silencing his grumbling stomach with another bite of rich cookie.

John turned to face Blake, “I think those might be for us,” he said.

“The cages?” Blake asked, chewing away.

John nodded.

Blake shook his head. Wiping his hands together, he peered over the edge of the cup sitting on the saucer. “Milk,” he said, standing on his tip toes and reaching in to cup a handful of fluid before bringing it to his mouth.

“I think we should go,” John said, tone dead serious, walking over and taking a fragment of cookie for himself.

“I’m still eating,” Blake protested.

“Make it to go,” John replied.

Blake nodded, wiping the hand he used to get milk on his thigh and taking another hunk of cookie.

Leaving the bedroom, the only other thing they found at the far end of the hall was a set of steep narrow wooden stairs leading downward turning a corner about midway.

The pair stood there looking down the treacherous flight of steps. “These must be the stairs Simone mentioned last night, the ones that lead to the kitchen,” opined Blake.

“We know Dustin and Charles aren’t up here, so they’re probably down there somewhere.” Leaning forward, “Hey!” yelled John into the stairwell, cupping his hands around his mouth. He waited a moment, no response. “Dustin! Charles!” he hollered.

“Dustin! Charles!” Blake called.

John shook his head. “We might have better luck at the front stairs, at least we might be able to see them if they’re down there.”

Blake nodded.

Back in the kitchen

“It’s too bad we couldn’t get under that door,” Charles said, pointing to the porch egress.

Dustin frowned. “That’s probably the last thing we would want to do, going outside at this size would be absolute stupidity. Out there were are the food chain,” he said. “Imagine running into a cat or a dog, you’re about the same size as a Snausage.”

“I never looked at it that way,” Charles said, frowning, considering the ramifications.

“Let’s look at our situation. We are small, made this way undoubtedly by some agency of Simone or Nettie. Why?” Dustin asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do this to us, for what purpose?” he asked. “Then to leave out a treat?” he added, pointing at the saucer.

Charles frowned.

“Where are they now?” Dustin queried, looking around as if to emphasize his point.

Charles shook his head. “I don’t know, why would they make us small?”

“We are completely at their mercy, trapped like this.” He frowned, “I think this might be some type of game, some amusement, and I don’t see the endgame,” he suggested.

“But why? Why play a game like this?”

Dustin chuckled, “Because they can and we wandered in here, like flies onto a spider’s web,” he mused.

Charles shook his head, “Don’t talk like that Dustin, you’re freaking me out,” he said, eyes reflecting the panic he felt

Dustin fixed him with a half-smile.

“Seriously dude,” Charles said.

“So given our predicament, how are we to get back to our normal size?” Dustin asked.

Charles shrugged, “Maybe it’ll wear off and we’ll be fine,” he offered.

“Maybe, I guess, as long as there’s hope right?” Dustin said cynically. Turning away, he wandered over to the doorway to the larder while Charles, perched on the edge of the saucer watched, munching cookie.

Shelves lined both walls of the narrow darkened room, all sorts of dry goods and glass jarred preservatives on the shelves. A whisk broom and metal pan leaned up against the back wall. Dustin walked deeper into the shadowy room, examining the broom more thoroughly. Grabbing one of the long pieces of straw he pulled, testing it. He tried a few more, eventually finding one that was not attached. It was bigger around than his wrist and it took a fair bit of effort to draw the twelve inch long piece of straw out. Sweating with exertion, he grabbed an end, it wasn’t overly heavy he dragged it out of the larder.

Charles got up and approached. “What have you got?” he asked, eyeing the long slender piece of straw.

“Piece from the corn broom back there, I’m thinking if we stand it up in the corner of a stair, we can shinny up it, pull it up after and get up the stairs. It’s pretty rigid and durable, and we’re pretty light,” he said.

“I’m glad I’m partnered with you, no way Blake would’ve thought of this,” Charles said with a smile moving in around to pick up the other end. Together they carried it to the stair and leaned it up against the first stair, the straw easily higher than the 7 ¾” stair rise.

Pulling the bottom out to improve the climbing angle, Dustin said, “I’ll go first, then you follow.”

Charles nodded.

Dustin wrapped his legs around the straw and hand over hand pulled himself onto the first step. Turning, he motioned for Charles to follow. Copying Dustin, Charles climbed, Dustin helping him when he neared the lip of the step. Together, they pulled the straw up and repeated the process for the second step, then the third.

“I need a break,” Charles said, arms aching.

Dustin set up the straw and climbed to the fourth step, turning and sitting at the edge, the legs dangling over. “It’s like climbing a mountain.”

“Yeah, with mostly your arms,” Charles groused.

Dustin chuckled.

Cats and Mice

Blake and John had made it back around the hall and were standing side by side between the lathed spindles of the bannister on the second floor landing overlooking the entryway, eyes scanning the lower floor for any sign of their missing comrades.

John shook his head then looked at Blake, “You see anything?”

“Nope,” he replied, hand against the spindle.

“What do you think of trying to get down the stairs?” John asked, eyes still roving the panorama below.

Blake looked back toward the rise of the stair then back to John, “That would be like jumping off a two story house,” he warned, “And look how many stairs there are.”

John frowned, Blake was right. If they only had a couple of jumps, maybe, but one bad jump and you’d be left completely exposed. He was contemplating, when the sound of metal on metal disturbed the stillness as the key slid into the lock. The tumbler clicked and the door opened, Simone walked in, followed by another woman, a brown haired woman similar in height and roughly the same age.

Simone was attired in a nice patterned knee length summer dress cinched with a belt at her waist, blonde hair swept up and back. Small purse draped over her shoulder. The other woman was dressed in those black stretchy pants the girls at school were so fond of, enhancing the magnificent curves of her shapely bottom. She wore a short sleeved top, her long hair pulled back into a pony tail. Like Simone, she possessed aristocratic features that seemed impossibly pretty.

Closing the door, Simone walked over and set her purse on the small table against the wall, almost directly under where John and Blake were concealed by the base of the spindles. A broad smile on her face, “By now, you should all be awake,” she said, voice loud and echoing throughout the house, “And I’m sure you’ve all had an opportunity to appreciate the nuances of your newly found condition. You have been scattered about the house to enhance a little game of hide and seek. You hide. I am here with my friend Elizabeth and in a short while we are going to try and find you.” She turned and smiled at the other woman eyebrow arched, coy smile.

Elizabeth smiled back and nodded slowly.

“I don’t know if any of you have been able to find one another yet, but not knowing is part of the fun. Given how tiny and fragile you all are now, I feel obligated to caution you about attempting to get out of doors,” Simone warned, “There are significant dangers to you out there.”

From behind his spindle, John looked at Blake, “Dude, this is so fucked up,” he whispered.

Elizabeth looked up in their direction and for a moment he thought she had heard him but her gaze moved away, he let out a soft sigh of relief.

“This is a large house with a great many nooks and crannies and places to hide and I hope you enjoy the game as much as we will,” Simone said. “Now, I’d like Elizabeth introduce herself.”

“Hello little ones,” Elizabeth said pleasantly by way of greeting, stepping forward and addressing the empty space in the entryway, her voice alluring, exotic accent stronger than Simone’s. “Simone has told me all your names and described you to me, but I look forward to meeting each of you in person.”

“Fuck,” seethed Blake through his teeth, stretching the word.

Shaking his head, “We have got to find someplace to hide, and fast,” urged John, sneaking over and nudging Blake with an elbow.

“Where?” Blake asked, keeping his voice low, watching as Simone slipped off her shoes and vanished down the hall toward the kitchen.

Elizabeth sat on the intricate deacon’s bench and slipped off her running shoes.

“Back that way,” John said pointing back down the hall.

Blake nodded.

John took off like a shot, racing back down the hall deeper into the house, stopping to peer into the bathroom where he had initially found himself.

Blake arrived a few seconds behind, huffing and puffing, “Man you got to slow down, I can’t run as fast as you,” he said, sucking wind between words.

“Did you see how big they were? Imagine how fast those giant chicks can move,” John replied, turning his head to look at his friend.

He nodded. “What do you think?” he asked, motioning to the bathroom.

“Maybe the far side of the tub by those feet,” John replied, pointing, “But everything is so white, and I’m not sure there’s room enough for two, one of might be exposed,” he said.

Blake frowned. “I think it would be a good place to hide, hard for them to see,” he countered.

“Knock yourself out if you want it, I’m going to go look for someplace a little more secure,” John said.

Despite his thought the claw of the bathtub might make an excellent hidey hole, Blake didn’t want to be alone. “Where do you think?

“Master bedroom, last place she would think we would go,” John said.

“Except the cookie is there, and she will be going in and out of that room more than any other,” Blake countered.

“Exactly,” John said, making the pace a little more brisk.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Blake said.

John stopped. “Think about it, she’s thinking we are going to stay as far away from them as possible, meanwhile, we’ll be right under their noses. Dustin’s not the only thinker,” he said, tapping a finger against the side of his head.

Blake rolled his eyes and motioned for John to lead on.

Together the returned to the bedroom, Blake grabbing another piece of cookie. John found a spot under the far side from the door night table beside the bed. The opening in the bottom was small enough they could climb under and there was a gap between the back of the drawer and the rear of the night table.