"Nick!"
A young female voice. I instinctively look around to find the source. For some reason the familiar voice instantly fills me with fear. Mind racing, I see her.
"Nick Avary! There you are! Oh god, I haven't seen you for ages! How are you?"
Brooke. I vaguely feel adrenaline surge through my body like electricity as I struggle to calm my self.
She's just a woman. It was an accident.
Brooke, young, blonde, beautiful Brooke bounces up to me on the sidewalk. I fight the instinct to run like hell.
I stutter. Force a smile. I say I'm good.
"Oh that is so, so great. I'm so glad you're all better, after our little, accident," Brooke gushes through a relieved, glowing grin. I wince at the word, "accident".
Suddenly it all flashes back. The terror, the helplessness. The pain.
The death.
PTSD. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. An anxiety disorder developed after being exposed to a traumatic event that threatened or caused great physical harm. Symptoms include re-experience, such as flashbacks and nightmares; avoidance of stimuli associated with the trauma.
Brooke says happily, "I think that is so, so cool how you can get like, totally all better. I would've been so sad if you were just like, dead." She laughs.
Her words strike me like an electric shock. I'm sweating profusely, and my face feels flushed and hot. How can she talk about me like this? I'm a human being.
Aren't I?
Brooke is wearing a tight white t-shirt and green short-shorts, her skater-style shoes are white with green trim. Her strawberry blonde hair is done up. Her eyes are piercing emeralds.
I say to her, yeah, lucky me, but what I'm thinking is what the fuck.
"Yeah!" she replies. "That is so, cool. It's like, never ending right? You can come back every time, right? Forever?"
Every time? What the fuck does that mean?
I say yeah, as far as they know, right? I mean 'they' as in the legion of doctors obsessing over me and my "condition". The legion of doctors that followed me at every turn, wanting to run endless experiments on me. Of course, Mom had said no. Screw the advancement of science. This is a human life, her son's life. My life. Mom had gotten me a good lawyer, protection, civil rights, and now I'm safe. Safe from all that.
Right?
I ask her what's going on here. What's this all about, anyway?
Brooke looks away, abashed. "Well," she says, "I just saw you out here, and after what happened, you know, I thought maybe we should talk. About it. Y'know?"
A chill like a glacier runs down my spine. Don't be afraid, I tell myself. Not now. For God's sake, of all the times, I can hardly think of a worse moment for me to get scared.
Really scared.
Calming exercises run through my head. I try to breathe deep. I try to relax every one of my muscles starting at my toes. I try to find my happy place. Why can't I find it?
Brooke starts talking. I hear her over the sound of me counting in my head.
"It must have been just awful for you down there," she says. "You must have been so scared!"
You're telling me. Speaking of scared, I'm shaking like a leaf. I say yeah, and my voice barely quivers out of my chest, which hurts. I realize I've been holding my breath. I try to breathe out but for a second I can't remember how.
Brooke continues. "Cause that's how it works, right? It happens when you're really scared."
It takes me a second to realize she said the last part as a statement rather than a question. I look up out of surprise, right into her bright green eyes. Her smiling eyes.
Her mouth isn't smiling. Not quite yet. But her eyes are. They're bright with amusement, excitement, I'm not sure. The calming exercises I learned are gone, vanished in fear and in my head I'm screaming, as I look up at Brooke.
Mind blank. Adrenaline rushing. Not now, it couldn't happen now.
"You shrink when you're scared," she says. In the back of my mind I hear victory in her voice.
The front of my mind is going why, why, why is this happening? I realize I'm screaming it aloud.
"Well Nick," she says, staring down at me now with fascinated eyes and a slight open mouthed-smile, "I know how awful it must have been for you, but...". She pauses as she watches me diminish in size right before her. Her gigantic body now towers over me, and she's bent over and pulling her hair back behind her ear.
Everything is expanding around me. I can't focus, and my head swims while my heart pounds painfully. I wonder if this is real or not, and suddenly I'm reliving everything that happened before as the flashbacks surge my consciousness.
***
I'm sitting in the make-up room in front of a lighted mirror. I'm alone. I can hear the crowd in the studio outside. Waiting for me. Waiting for me to sit down in front of them and answer questions about my condition for some jackass host and pretend I'm happy to be there. I look in the mirror and I look at a frightened kid, sweat beading down his forehead. I try to do the calming exercises. I can't.
***
I'm losing it. I'm shrinking and getting more and more frantic. I can't stop myself. I slide off my giant chair.
***
Someone has come into the room. She's huge. She has a headset and is holding a clipboard. It's Brooke, though I haven't seen her since high school. She looks around and calls my name. "Mr. Avary? You're on in five?" I'm shaking on the floor, tiny.
***
She sees me. Down here on the floor, her eyes drop and she sees me. I call to her for help. Her eyes light up and her mouth opens slightly. She stares at me for a few seconds. Then she looks up and calls my name again. I realize now that she's pretending she hasn't seen me. She walks closer and without lowering her head, her eyes flicker down at me. "Nick?"
***
She steps closer. Smile in her eyes. She raises her foot. I see the green rubber patterned sole of her shoe. It descends and I hear her say, "Where are you, Nick?"
***
I wake up in a hospital room. Mom. Doctors everywhere. People yammer about a security camera, a girl, a lawsuit. Everything blurs together.
***
I jerk back into the present. One nightmare into the next. I hear Brooke's voice and I look up.
"...but, I really want to crush you under my foot again."
I scream, I scream, I scream and it just makes me feel more helpless. I scream as loud as I possibly can as I see her raise her foot off the ground and bring it hovering above me, and I feel my bladder let go as I spray warm piss all over myself. I can see her face in the sky past the green sole of her shoe, and this time, she's smiling wide, white teeth and everything.
Her shoe lowers, the familiar green pattern grows larger and blocks out the light. I see the bits of earth and pebbles on her sole as it grows larger and fills my vision. I close my eyes and the tears roll down my cheeks as I sob to myself and clutch my aching chest. Why, why, why, why, why...
For a few seconds I feel the cold, hard rubber on my body, the incredible pressure and my bones breaking. The taste of my own guts spewing out my mouth, and finally my skull as it bursts.
***
I wake up screaming.
God damn what a fucking nightmare. I'm drenched in sweat, I'm shaking, I'm...
Where am I?
I try to sit up, but my arms don't move. For a second I think they must still be asleep, but as I look at them I realize they're tied down. I'm strapped to a table. The room is dark and unfamiliar. I try to look around when a door opens and floods the room with light.
Brooke walks in, excited. Smiling.
"Nick!" she says.
My mind races in panic as I remember all that has happened. My heart beats hard in my chest and I realize I'm already shrinking.
"You're shrinking already," she laughs as she struts up to me. Looks down at me, dwindling away. "You know there's like, no way I can possibly let you go free now, right?" she laughs again. "Not that I want to. Look at you!" she says, and puts her finger on my shrinking chest.
"You're mine now, little man. Mine forever. I can't wait to feel you squish as I step on you again, and again, again." She laughs.
I scream.
To be continued.
Giantess World
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.