“Guys?!” Michael shouted.

It was beyond boring within the depths of Amanda’s Demonia. It stank of feet, but he’d been in so long he was growing noseblind.

In the darkness of the boot, Michael's mind spun with worry and curiosity. What had happened to Emma and Sasha? Were they safe? Did they manage to escape the chaos that had unfolded? His thoughts raced, searching for answers that eluded him.

He imagined various scenarios, picturing Emma and Sasha fighting against the odds, struggling to survive. Were they looking for him? Did they even know he was stuck inside Amanda's boot? The uncertainty gnawed at him, amplifying his anxiety.

As the minutes turned into hours, Michael's perception of time grew hazy. He wondered how long it had been since he was swallowed by the Demonia, losing track of the days and nights that had blurred together in the darkness.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his attention. A sliver of light breached the darkness as the boot's zipper was slowly undone. His heart raced with a mix of anticipation and fear. What was happening?

A glimmer of hope sparked within him as he glimpsed Amanda's kitten-socked foot making its way into the boot. But that hope quickly turned to terror as the massive foot loomed over him, its presence overwhelming.

Michael's mind raced with fear as he realized the potential danger he was in. He had gone from boredom to apprehension, trapped in a confined space with a giant foot descending upon him. The overwhelming size and power of Amanda's foot struck him with a primal fear.

He pressed himself against the walls of the boot, desperately seeking a way to escape. But there was no place to hide, no means of defense. He was at the mercy of Amanda's oblivious movements.

As the kitten-socked foot came closer, Michael's heart pounded in his chest. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run, to escape the impending catastrophe. But he was trapped, his fate hanging in the balance.

Fear enveloped him like a suffocating shroud as the foot loomed directly above him. He braced himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the impact of the foot as he was speared directly by the toes, dragged on his back all the way into the toe of the shoe, getting horrible friction burn and brutalizing his lower half.

“AMANDA!” he pleaded, feeling his legs get crushed as the smelly clothed appendage settled in to place, pinning him down.

"AMANDA!" he cried out, his voice filled with both pain and desperation. "Please... I'm trapped. Help me!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Amanda, oblivious to his cries, simply stood up and began walking. Each step sent shockwaves of agony through Michael's body, amplifying his suffering.

With every stride, Michael's hope diminished. He realized that Amanda was completely unaware of his presence and the pain he was experiencing. The weight of her foot pressing down on him was unbearable, and his strength waned with each passing moment.

As Amanda continued to walk, the boot enclosing Michael became a prison of pain. He fought against the overwhelming pressure, but his struggles were futile. The realization that he might not survive this ordeal sank in, filling him with a profound sense of helplessness.

In the midst of his anguish, Michael's thoughts turned to his friends, Emma and Sasha. He hoped with all his heart that they were safe and that they escaped the nightmarish fate that had befallen them.

Michael's world began to fade into darkness. The pain became overwhelming, and his body grew weak. He knew he was nearing the end of his strength, and his consciousness teetered on the precipice of oblivion.

Suddenly, the boot stopped swinging for a moment, granting Michael a single moment of respite. “Why… why did she stop…” he sputtered, blood starting to come out of his mouth from internal damage.

Without warning, the boot lifted up astronomically high. Before Michael could even comprehend why that would happen, the boot slammed down into the ground.

And again.

And again.

Michael didn’t survive the first impact.

And again…

-

Amanda paused, feeling a pebble in her shoe.

As Amanda stomped her foot repeatedly, trying to shake off the annoying pebble, a strange sensation tingled through her foot.

If Amanda had been more observant and taken her shoes off to investigate, she might have noticed the damp spot growing on her socks, the discoloration hinting at the gruesome aftermath of her relentless stomping. A sticky substance, a mix of blood and crushed remains, had smeared onto the material of her kitty socks. But her mind was occupied with thoughts of going home, oblivious to the grisly fate that had befallen Michael.

With an unconcerned smile on her face, Amanda continued on her way, completely unaware of the tragedy she had unknowingly left behind. The wet spot on her socks would wash out, leaving no visible trace of the final gruesome end she inadvertently caused.

All that was going through her head was the excitement of seeing everyone again, at the next meeting of the Occult Club…