Click, click, click.

The sound of heels on the concrete stairs made every small shiver in fear. They knew that meant she was visiting her favourite room of the house. She was visiting her ‘playroom’, her dungeon for smalls of sorts.

The room of no return, they called it, because nobody ever left alive.

“Come out, come out!” She sang menacingly down the stairs, her blood red dress slithering down the stairs, as if to warn everyone of what was about to happen. To warn them that when she came down into the playroom, she wanted to leave with one less small in the world by her hand.

The room had dark floors with patches of stain on them, and the walls were covered by fish tank like cells. Each one containing a little man or woman, cowering at the front of their cage. Waiting for Charlotte to come in, waiting to see who died next. The cages each had a name, from Number 1 to Number 100. The lower your number? The worse the cell and the less chance of survival.

Once a small entered a cell they lost all dignity and their name. They were stripped naked, thrown into their cell and had their new name carved into their back.

She almost skipped into the room, which made each one of them cross their fingers, she was angry. When she acted this playful? It meant she was seriously angry. And they all knew this meant bloodshed.

“Number 100… How lovely to see you!” Charlotte laughed as 100 nearly fainted in fear as she pressed her face up against the glass, “Stand straighter. You know its tomorrow you get released, if I feel like it. So you probably won’t!” She laughed more as he fainted out of fear and slid down the glass.

She turned and looked down the wall, tapping a few cages to scare them and even reaching in to flick one guy across his cage and into the wall because he wasn’t standing straight enough. He slid down the wall, a smudge of red following from the back of his head.

“Number 1!” Charlotte called as she reached the worst cages, their glass was dirty, and the men were even worse. Cowering in corners as she approached and almost crying as she laughed down at them. “Get here.” She ordered him, and when he didn’t respond she banged her hand on the cage wall, shaking the whole box. Making him fall straight down again onto his face.

“Hello!” She grinned at him as she dropped him on her palm, “How are you, you worthless grime?”

Number 1 stayed silent and Charlotte grumbled.

“Well, why aren’t you doing what you’re supposed to be? You say I’m fine. And then kneel and kiss my palm!” And when he just stared defiantly up at her she screamed in anger and threw him across the room and into a wall.

He slid sickeningly down it, his nose bleeding badly now and his body seeming broken.

“Obey my every word you wretch.” She prodded him with her toe, “OBEY ME.” She screamed down at him, her normal composure failing. But he finally obeyed, sinking down into a low, kneeling worship. He kissed the floor his bleeding face was pressed against and then raised his head to do it again. She spun round and glared at all the other cages, who one by one, sank down to also worship her. She finally smiled.

“Lovely!” She clapped her hands together and flung Number 1 back into his cage effortlessly. He collapsed into a corner and stayed still. “50 to 100, I want you to dance for me!” She sang in a singsong voice. They all looked at each other fear on their faces, were they actually meant to listen to her? Or was she just taunting them? “Did I or did I not just say Dance!” She sang in the most dangerous way over to them, sinking into the chair in the middle of the room with effortless grace.

A few of them started to vaguely jig about, sparking the rest to start to vaguely wave their limbs and attempt to dance for the joy of the giantess in front of them she began to laugh, almost hysterically at them. Finally a few of them started to do stupid things like the funky chicken, attempting to fall into her favour with humour. She began dancing around herself, her shoes dipping in and out of the blood stains from Number 1. She seemed oblivious however, her almost manic happiness scaring even the sturdiest of smalls.

Suddenly her hand dived into cage Number 63 and dragged out the man inside, he screamed slightly as she began ‘dancing’ with him. Swinging him round in circles, gripping his tiny hands in her fingers so hard that they broke. He screamed in pain but she just stopped dancing and glared down at him, her face screwing up in anger.

“You ruined the mood.” She whispered at him, “HOW DARE YOU!” She then shrieked at his face, before throwing him to the floor and bringing the heel of her shoe down into his head.

The blood seeped out and she spat in disgust.

“And now you ruin my favourite pair of shoes, you worthless waste.” She flicked him backward and wandered happily out the room, leaving red blood trails behind her, “CLEAN HIM UP!” She yelled down into the small’s area. Before laughing at their shock and slamming the door behind her.

That was quite enough fun for one day.