Mark staggered into the bathroom, his hand gripping the cool marble of the counter for balance. His head swam, the walls seemed to tilt and shift, and a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. His skin was slick with sweat, his body radiating a feverish heat, as though he were burning from within. He could feel his pulse in his temples, each beat a sharp, painful throb that clouded his vision. The mirror in front of him seemed to waver, his own reflection blurring and distorting in his dizziness.
He took a shaky breath and made his way toward the walk-in shower. His hand slipped on the sink, but he managed to catch himself just in time. The cold tile floor beneath his bare feet did nothing to cool the molten heat inside him. His clothes felt heavy, sticking to his damp skin. With a grunt, he peeled off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. His pajama pants followed, then his boxers, his movements sluggish as though he were wading through water.
"A cold shower," he whispered hoarsely, "maybe that'll help."
He stepped into the shower, shivering slightly as the cool air brushed over his exposed skin. His hand reached for the faucet, but just before he could turn it, a fresh wave of dizziness hit him, harder this time. His vision went white at the edges, his legs wobbled, and he leaned heavily against the tiled wall, pressing his cheek to the cool surface. He could feel his heart pounding erratically in his chest, the heat intensifying until it was unbearable.
A bone-deep weariness settled over him. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of the world slipping away, his knees buckling beneath him, and then everything went black.
When Mark came to, his body felt foreign—unnervingly small and featherlight, as though gravity itself had lost its hold on him. His head pounded, and the world around him swayed in a dizzying blur. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly as the surroundings snapped into focus. He attempted to push himself up, expecting the familiar texture of the shower floor beneath him. Instead, his hands pressed into a slick, glossy surface that stretched out beneath him like an endless, smooth plain.
Mark's heart began to race as panic clawed its way into his chest. He glanced around, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of everything. The gleaming white tiles of the shower, which had once been so familiar, now stretched upwards like the walls of a canyon, towering impossibly high. The grout between them, once barely noticeable, now looked like deep, wide crevices. The drain, which had always been a small, round fixture in the center, now gaped like a vast black pit, the metal grate resembling the bars of a cage. The world wasn’t simply larger. It was monstrous. And then, the truth hit him like a freight train: he had shrunk. He couldn’t have been more than half an inch tall, a mere speck in the expanse of the shower.
“What the hell…?” His voice, barely a whisper, echoed in the cavernous space, swallowed by the silence. He stood, his legs trembling beneath him, and spun around, trying to make sense of the nightmare he found himself in. But there was no mistaking it. He was tiny. Everything was too big, too overwhelming. The air itself felt denser, heavier, pressing down on him as he tried to process the impossible.
But before he could gather his thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open. The sound, magnified a thousand times in his tiny ears, was like a thunderclap. Mark’s heart seized, terror coursing through him. He whipped his head around just in time to see the towering figure of his girlfriend, Rachel, stepping into the room. From his minuscule vantage point, she was a titaness, her form so immense that he couldn’t even see her face properly without craning his neck.
Rachel yawned and stretched lazily, still half-asleep, her long legs carrying her across the bathroom floor with slow, sleepy strides. Her bare feet slapped lightly against the tiles, each step making the ground vibrate beneath Mark. To him, it was as though an earthquake shook the world with every movement she made. He stumbled as the floor quaked beneath her, the tremors rippling outward with each casual step.
“Rachel!” Mark screamed, but his voice was a pitiful whisper compared to the ambience of the room. He waved his arms frantically, jumping up and down in a desperate attempt to be seen. But to Rachel, he was nothing—a speck of dust on the shower floor, too small to be noticed. His heart sank as she stood by the sink, oblivious to his plight. Her back was turned to him as she absentmindedly pulled off her shirt and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, the fabric landing with a soft thud that reverberated like a crash to Mark’s tiny ears.
Rachel’s fingers hooked under the waistband of her panties, and Mark’s eyes widened in horror as she slid them down her legs, the fabric pooling at her feet like a mountain of cloth. She stepped out of them, her movements slow and unhurried as she moved toward the shower. Mark’s stomach churned as her enormous foot lifted off the ground, her toes, each one the size of a boulder to him, slamming down just outside the shower, inches—no, miles—from where he stood.
"Rachel, please! I'm down here!" His voice cracked with desperation, his arms flailing wildly, but she was oblivious. He was nothing more than a speck to her now, so small that she couldn’t possibly see or hear him.
Rachel turned toward the shower, her hand reaching out to the faucet, and Mark’s heart raced as he watched in horror. The massive metal knob turned with an effortless twist of her fingers, and in an instant, water exploded from the showerhead above. The spray hit the tiles with the force of a waterfall, the sound like an unrelenting roar in Mark’s tiny ears. His world shook as the water splattered everywhere.
The first droplet hit just inches away from where Mark stood, sending a tidal wave of water rushing toward him. He yelped and scrambled to get out of the way, slipping on the slick tile as the cold water stung his skin. The torrent knocked him off balance, and he fell hard onto his back, gasping as the icy deluge drenched him. He barely had time to push himself up when another wave of water hit him, sweeping him across the slick surface like debris in a storm.
Rachel’s foot appeared above him, her toes glistening with droplets of water as she stepped into the shower. The sheer size of her body created shockwaves in the water, ripples that sent Mark tumbling backward across the floor. His limbs flailed as he fought to stay upright, but it was no use. The water was relentless, crashing down around him like a torrential downpour, each drop heavy enough to crush him if it hit the wrong spot.
“Rachel!!” Mark screamed, his voice hoarse with terror. But she couldn’t hear him. Rachel stood above him, towering like a goddess, completely unaware of the tiny man fighting for his life below her. She ran her hands through her wet hair, tilting her head back as the water streamed down her body in shimmering rivulets. The droplets cascaded down her legs, pooling near Mark’s feet and sending waves rippling across the tile, threatening to drag him toward the drain.
Mark’s legs burned as he struggled to stand against the powerful current, his muscles straining with every step. The drain loomed closer, its dark maw growing larger with every second. The suction was terrifyingly strong, pulling at him with an irresistible force that sent chills through his body.
His hands slapped against the cold tile, fingers clawing desperately at the wet surface, but it was no use. His tiny, trembling limbs were no match for the water that surged around him. He could see the whirlpool forming in the center of the drain, a dark, swirling vortex that yawned ominously before him, promising only oblivion. His heart raced, fear seizing his chest as he realized that if he got any closer, he would be sucked down into the abyss.
Mark let out a ragged breath, his body trembling with the strain of resisting the pull. His fingers, slick with water, scraped uselessly at the tiles as he tried to find any kind of grip. His vision blurred with exhaustion, but he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let himself be swallowed by the drain. His mind raced, desperation taking over as the water grew stronger, the roar of the drain filling his ears like a siren’s wail.
Suddenly, Rachel shifted her weight, her colossal foot causing the water to change direction. The sudden rush of the current knocked Mark completely off balance. His legs gave out from beneath him, and he was sent tumbling helplessly across the shower floor, his tiny body spinning out of control. The cold, rushing water enveloped him, filling his nose and mouth as he struggled to keep his head above the surface.
But then, a new sound broke through the chaos—a soft trickling, unmistakable in its origin. Mark’s blood ran cold.
He looked up in horror as a golden stream rained down from above, crashing onto the shower floor with terrifying force. Rachel was peeing. The warm liquid mixed with the shower water, creating waves of yellowish current that surged toward him with alarming speed. The acrid smell hit his nostrils, and Mark gagged, the sheer absurdity of the situation overwhelming him.
The urine-laced water rushed at him, a flood that carried him even closer to the drain. His tiny body was battered by the relentless waves, his skin raw and bruised as he fought to crawl away. His limbs ached with every movement, but he couldn’t afford to stop. He couldn’t let himself be swept away. With every ounce of strength he had left, Mark clawed at the tiles, his tiny fingers scraping against the surface as he pulled himself inch by inch toward the safety of the shower’s edge.
Above him, Rachel continued her shower routine, humming softly as she massaged conditioner into her wet hair, completely unaware of the tiny man fighting for his life below her. She lifted her foot again, her toes flexing slightly as she shifted her stance. Mark barely had time to react. He looked up, eyes wide with terror, as her foot came crashing down toward him.
The massive sole of her foot cast a dark shadow over Mark’s tiny form, blocking out the dim light of the bathroom. His heart seized in his chest, and panic surged through him as he tried to run, but it was too late. Her foot descended with terrifying speed, water dripping from her toes like falling boulders. Her heel slammed into the tile with a deafening crash, mere inches from where he lay.
Mark raised his arms in a desperate, futile attempt to protect himself, but there was no escaping what was about to happen. Pain exploded through his chest as Rachel’s foot came down on him, crushing his ribs with a sickening crack. His vision blurred, stars dancing at the edges of his sight as darkness began to close in around him. He gasped for air, but he couldn’t breathe. The pressure was too much. His tiny lungs collapsed under the weight of her foot, and he felt his life slipping away.
Rachel shifted her weight, her massive foot settling fully onto the floor. Beneath her, Mark’s fragile body gave way with a gruesome crunch. His bones shattered, his organs crushed as his tiny form was flattened against the tile, reduced to nothing more than a faint smear of red. The torrent of water and urine swirling around him washed away the last traces of his existence, carrying his remains toward the drain.
Rachel, completely unaware of the life she had just snuffed out, stood in the shower for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the water cascading over her body. She sighed contentedly, her foot splashing lightly in the puddles as she rinsed off, her mind already drifting to the day ahead. The only trace of Mark’s existence disappeared down the drain, lost forever in the swirling current.