A Port in the Storm

Oliver knew he was still far from being safe as there was no guarantee when the owner of the room might or might not return. In the weak light of his surroundings, it was obvious to him he was in one of the girl’s bedrooms, giant oversized fuzzy bunny slippers near the door, notwithstanding. There was no way in creation he could out distance these girls now that he was so small, no, he needed to outwit them, out think them if he was going to try and find a way out of this situation.

The only logical course of action for him was to hide in a spot no one would think to look. But where? Probably some place up high where he could surreptitiously monitor the room, but not so difficult as to get in and out of if necessity required. There were several pieces of furniture he could choose from to hide under, a dresser, a desk, a mirrored vanity, a large double doored wardrobe, as well as a nightstand beside the bed, but as for on top, none seemed an ideal choice. The desk maybe. The only way to tell was to get up there and check it out. Heading directly toward the desk, over the area rug dominating most of the floor, he circled around to the side to look for a means of climbing the desk. Behind the desk, several cords hung down and plugged into an electrical power bar, the red light of the surge protector flickered balefully, providing him hellish colored illumination.

Walking closer, he tracked the path of a cord up onto the desk, taking the thick cord in his hand. It was bigger than he could get his hand around, but small enough he figured he could skinny up like a small tree. Getting a leaping start, he wrapped his legs around the cord and started pulling himself up hand over hand.

Nearing the top, the whole room was suddenly awash in light causing him to arrest his ascent.

“No I agree with you,” said an unfamiliar a female voice, tone low.

“Right?” replied another female voice, this once belonging to Maeve, the stuck up girl he and Cam met the first time they came to the Omega house.

There were some sounds of shuffling, feet drawing closer to his location. “What about Miss Frost?” the girl unfamiliar to him asked.

“I can’t say why she came to our charter,” Maeve replied, “but I suspect it was because there was some suggestion Oliver’s mom might have been having second thoughts about giving him over and she was here just to make sure ever went as it was supposed to, but that’s just hearsay.”

“I hope that’s the case because I really don’t want her to take Kent,” lamented the unknown girl.

“Maybe she just came to participate in the harvest,” Maeve opined.

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Maeve asked.

Hanging on the cord and still unable to see, it sounded to Oliver like she got up off her bed and walked toward the door. There was a creak of metal on metal from the hinges.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” said a voice he recognized as belonging to Allie.

“We just got back from getting Kent squared away,” Maeve replied. “Why?”

Allie sighed, “there’s been sort of a, a situation involving Oliver,” she replied.

“Was it Miss Frost, did she take him?” asked the girl he presumed was Elisha.

“No, no. He escaped into the house,” Allie informed.

“Escaped?” Maeve queried.

“How?” Elisha asked amidst a chuckle.

“I don’t know how Oliver was able to get loose. Vesper says she thinks he probably slipped the dose and played possum, though we’re not quite sure yet, but we are looking for him,” Allie extrapolated.

“Do you want us to help search?” Maeve inquired.

“No, it’s okay we have enough sisters searching for him, but I do want you two to be aware and keep your eyes open just in case,” Allie requested.

“For sure,” Elisha acknowledged.

“Yeah,” Maeve agreed.

The door clicked and Oliver heard Maeve returning across the floor.

“Holy shit, Sersei must be pissed!” Elisha breathed.

“Fuck, I’ll say,” agreed Maeve emphatically.

“Cerys too I’ll bet,”

Arms beginning to ache, Oliver pulled himself closer to the top of the desk, slipping over the edge near the back behind a pile of books and other clutter. Lying on his back, his mind reeled. His mom knew this was going to happen to him? And she let it? But why? Digging into the recesses of his mind searching for answers, it dawned on him he had seen the gray haired woman before, but when he was little, no more than four or five years old. They had been planning this for years. The profound sense of betrayal left him feeling hollow, empty and tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. How could she? Did Stan know? No. The whole telephone conversation made sense now. She brought him here for the sisters of Omega Pi. Hurt turned to anger, anger to rage. He wanted to unleash a scream of anguished fury.

If they could do this to him, they could undo it. But how? He resolved to find a way.

He wanted to put faces to names, not that it mattered much, because he knew there were no friendlies here, not Sersei, not Vesper, no one. Choking down the bitter taste of broken faith in his mother, he crawled into a position where he could overlook the girls without them seeing him in return.

Maeve he recognized, dark brown hair swept back up off her face and into a bun at the back of her head. The other girl, Elisha, long platinum blond hair almost white pulled back into a ponytail. So pretty, so malevolent. Put aside the utter impossibility of being able to shrink some, why would they do this? Surely, someone would come looking for him. Right? What possible story would the girls concoct to explain his disappearance? Deacon. Deacon was his only hope now. Deacon could get Stan involved. Stan could get the cops on the case. It was only a matter of time before someone would come looking. All he had to do was keep out the clutches of the giant sized girls.