#15 - Do No Harm

A tall, lean and lanky figure in a blue nurse’s outfit walked under the clinical artificial lighting of The Wieldfern Center for Glow Affected Individuals, through a row of massive tables bordered by transparent plastic walls, his shoulders too wide to fit his otherwise thin yet trained physique.

He was a sharp-faced man in his late twenties, black hair shining with wax, as the locks hung down like tall grass across his forehead and left eye. He had a well-defined jawline, which sloped down steeper than most. His thin, almond-shaped dark eyes carried no visible bags, despite the tired expression they would always rest on.

Caleb Harm was the embodiment of control, from his confident and aware stride, to his self-care routine, his carefully tuned and maintained looks, his clean and structured workplace and home, all the way to his ability to suppress and healthily redirect the darkness within him.

He had turned, what he believed, to be his innate monstrous destiny into a life of striving for sainthood. He would do as he’d promised; abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous. Even if the words of the Nightingale pledge didn’t even begin to describe the wickedness he was truly abstaining from.

As he glanced down at the tiny people going about their day in the small towns that had been handcrafted for them upon the many tables around him, Caleb couldn’t help but smile, reminded of the care and safety he helped provide them, reminded of his purpose in life.

Three years ago, as every facet of society scrambled to adapt to a world where the glow and its victims were becoming part of everyday life, Caleb dropped out of his studies. Instead of becoming a general physician, he joined a brand-new program to train himself up to be a caretaker

“Hey, Harm!” a familiar voice squeaked.

That’s what every resident called him; Harm, or Mr. Harm if they were being polite, despite his numerous attempts to get them to simply call him Caleb. His unfortunate surname was the result of how his Korean parents had chosen to romanize their name upon immigrating to the United States, what would otherwise be Ham, or Hahm, became ‘Harm’.

He looked down to see a middle-aged woman with dyed-red hair standing up against the plastic barrier at the edge of the table.

“Morning, Mrs. Theims,” Caleb said, with a clear and kind voice, before asking the question he already knew the answer to. “How can I help you today?”

“I need to get to Marfield Square!”

He raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at a small mechanical construct not far from them. “The drawbridge is only a few feet away, Mrs. Theims.”

She didn’t answer, she just stared up at him with an adorable smile, waiting for him to give her what she wanted.

Caleb tried to keep a stern professional face, but it didn’t hold for long, before his signature smile showed, “You’re gonna get me fired, little lady. You know that right?”

Again, no words from Mrs. Theims, just smiles.

The man looked around the room to make sure no one was looking and clicked his tongue, “fiiine.”

The giant’s hand lowered past the plastic barrier, beside the tiny woman, who happily climbed onto his fingers, before crawling on her hands and knees as he raised her slowly into the air. Mrs. Theims settled onto the warm skin of his palm.

Caleb carried her gracefully between the rows of tables. The idea that this could get him fired was a lie. His superiors advised against it, due to psychological concerns related to agency and normalcy, and the likely consequence that too many tinies might start requesting rides from staff, but there wasn’t a strict rule against it.

The young charmer just pretended there was to make these small interactions feel riskier and more adventurous to the tiny women who sometimes lined up to ask him. So much for the mischief part of his pledge.

As he gently lowered Mrs. Theims into the crowded community square on one of the tables, he noticed a visitor walk up to him in his periphery. He waited for the tiny woman to safely make it off his hand, while she had the audacity to sneak a tiny kiss onto his pinky, before thanking him and waving him off.

Caleb took his hand out of the enclosure, and turned to look at the regular sized stranger approaching him. He couldn’t help but think it as soon as he laid eyes on her, what a mess of a woman was this?

Her black hair was a wavy disaster, with strands poking out on all sides, a hair-don’t that looked as if someone had mistaken the term blow dried for blow died. Her make-up was more of a paint job, her lipstick smudged, her attempt at drawing eyeliner so uneven one of her steel blue eyes looked bigger than the other, giving off this crazed look.

Judging by the amount of effort she had put into trying to look good, and by the careless confidence she approached with, she seemed self-assured of her appearance, but to Caleb she looked like a hermit who didn’t get out much. Even a skinwalker would put on a better human guise.

The woman looked at his nametag, as an unsettling smile formed across her lips, and she spoke with a voice Caleb was sure he had heard somewhere before, “Nurse Harm, is it?”

“Can I help you ma’am?” Caleb said, unsure of whether anyone could.

“I’m visiting, looking for a resident.”

“And who would that be?” Caleb asked, politely.

“Elena Curtly.”

Caleb froze, his eyes widening, as things clicked into place. He’d been keeping a close eye on Elena ever since his online friend Rot had messaged him about what happened to her friend Simon, and warned him that his killer might be coming for the tiny girl next.

Harm had never liked Wr8. She took way too much enjoyment in the real-life suffering of tinies, without as much as a single humanizing break from the callousness she played off as dark humor, which in hindsight, he should’ve been more critical of, instead of letting her skirt around a ban each time she made things difficult for their server’s moderation team.

Then one day, Wr8 just snapped, harassed his friends, talked about slaughtering tinies in games and becoming a superior being; a reaper. And if Rot was to be believed; she had crossed the line into becoming an actual killer.

Rot had suggested Caleb smuggle her tiny friend out of the facility, thinking she’d be safer with her. Despite how proud he was upon hearing Rot had finally come out to her friends, and was finding healthy ways to cope, like QTpopper did with her boyfriend, smuggling Elena out without her consent was out of the question. How could he even begin to explain all of this to that sweet innocent girl?

If anything, she was safer here. The center was full of cameras. You could not play off a murder as incidental, not in here. You couldn’t take a tiny with you, without the police showing up at your door the very same day. Wr8 had to know that too, right? Even she wouldn’t be crazy enough to just walk up to Elena and grab her. Would she?

As he stared into the uneven eyes of this unsettling visitor, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Elena,” Caleb said, trying to compose himself. “Yeah, that girl is barely ever at her own place. Usually spends her time enjoying a fancy coffee and a good book at one of the cafés. Let me just find her for you.”

Wr8 didn’t respond, she stared at him with a more ominous version of Mrs. Theim’s waiting eyes.

Caleb turned around, his controlled stride faltering, as he turned corner after corner between the tables. He knew exactly where Elena would be, the exact district, the exact miniature building, the exact tiny table out front. He had no intention of letting that freak anywhere near her. He had to get to her. He had to get her out of here.

As he looked behind him, he saw Wr8 begin to move as well. She was pacing slowly, as if she were gliding between the tables like a ghost, a nightmarish wraith. Her eyes were locked onto him with an unnerving smile. Did she know who he was too? Of course she did, she’d read his name tag. But if she knew, then why would she alert him? Did she not think Rot would’ve warned him?

The siren of a drawbridge blared. It lowered right in front of Wr8’s path, forcing the giantess to stop and wait, keeping her upright posture and predatory eyes aimed at Caleb, while a tiny group of friends crossed tables along the metallically reinforced plastic bridge, unaware of what monster they had halted beside them.

Caleb made it to the enclosure where he was sure to find Elena, and there she was, calmly reading one of those expensive nano-printed novels, as she leaned back in her chair on the terrace of a Parisian themed café.

“Ms. Curtly,” he said, unable to shake the butler-like manner in which he was used to addressing the tinies in his care with, as he tried to keep his voice from booming with panic.

Elena looked up from her book, frowning as she saw an expression on Caleb’s face that was wholly unlike him, “Harm?”

“I don’t have time to explain, you have to come with me.”

Elena was stunned, the handsome nurse that every girl fawned over, the face she put to every fictional heart-rob which was too vaguely described by their author was beckoning her with immediacy.

Would this be the day he finally told her why he’d been acting suspicious lately, why he’d been watching her so closely? Was this the boiling point of his emotions, so sudden and overbearing that he had to whisk her away from everyone, just so he could tell her in private.

She had to shake bookworms out of her head, before she could think and answer appropriately, “W-What, why?”

“You’re in danger, you have to trust me.”

Harm lowered his hand into the enclosure, as his head swiveled between her and something she couldn’t see within the confines of her tiny Parisian world. How was she supposed to get her messy little thoughts straight, as he said the exact words a book character would say?

She put her book into her shoulder bag and ran up to his hand with a sudden hurried sprint, lost in his infectious panic, her confusion, her fantasies. She climbed on, and Caleb lifted her out of her small world, into his.

Elena was in his hand; one of the broad hands of Caleb Harm, structured with a roughness that made them seem destined for hard labor, built like those of a construction worker, yet honed to care, kept softer than they had any right to be, not a sign of any calluses, not even a hint of any rough, thickening pads.

It was soft, it was warm, it would’ve been magical if the seriousness of Harm’s claim didn’t ram through her imagination, “What’s going on?”

Caleb turned his head toward Wr8, as the drawbridge blocking her rose up slowly, her horrid, tilted smile looking at the tiny girl in his hand as she waited. Elena had followed his eyes and saw her, this creepy looking stranger.

The deep rumble of her caretaker’s voice sounded above her, “If that’s a friend or family member I don’t know about, you tell me right now.”

Elena shook her head and stuttered, “I-I don’t know who that is.”

“I’m getting you the hell out of here.”

“Wait, what?” Elena said, as the giant turned heel and walked away with a quick pace, heading for the exit doors. “Who is that? What does she want?”

“I think that woman is here to hurt you.”

“What? Why?”

“To get at Rot.”

“Who the fuck is Rot?!” Elena shouted

Caleb rushed through the doors into the entrance hall, “You’re not safe here anymore.”

The man walked in full view of every camera in the building. What he was doing was without a shadow of a doubt kidnapping a resident in his care, he could only hope that her consent after the fact would resolve any issues, once he’d fully had the chance to explain to her what was going on.

“Harm, stop, I’m scared,” Elena squeaked.

Caleb cussed under his breath at the slide doors to the outside, which could not open quick enough. In the corner of his eye, he could catch a glimpse of Wr8 pacing towards them.

The creepy woman was a head shorter than Caleb. He knew if it came to blows, he could easily overpower her, but any altercation with someone as small as Elena in his hand could end tragically, no matter the opponent. It couldn’t come to that.

Caleb shouldered through the gap between the slide doors as soon as they began to open. They were walking across the open plaza in front of the facility. The parking lot was only thirty feet away. He considered breaking into a sprint, rushing to his car. But running with a tiny came with too many risks, risks he couldn’t control.

Wr8 didn’t suffer the same limitations, she was making a dash for him. All he could do was tell her off.

“Stay back!”

Wr8 stopped and raised her hands, catching her breath, “What is your problem B, just visitin’ my gurrfren.”

Harm slowly backed up towards the parking lot, “I’m not gonna let you hurt her, Wr8.”

“Oh, please, call me Eve. And don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt your little patient,” the black-haired witch said. “You are.”

“What?”

“Come on Harm,” Wr8 started with a coy, playful voice. “Do you really think I need another packaged bug corpse to send Rot a message? One is more than enough, don’t you agree. I’m not here to pester Robin. I’m here to get across the same message I send her, to another one of my dear, beloved friends.”

Her smirk widened, “I’m here for you.”

Harm continued to step away, locking eyes with her in disgust.

“Taking a frail and vulnerable tiny girl out of the safety of a care facility,” Wr8 said, clicking her tongue and shaking her head in disapproval. “What naughty little plans does a sanctimonious pervert like you have for that poor little girl.”

“I’m taking her where a freak like you can’t touch her,” Caleb growled.

“But Harm,” the villainess said, meeting his piercing gaze. “There is a freak like me touching her right now. Tell me, honestly, what is it you really want to do?”

Caleb heard the world around him fall silent, felt his breath caress the inside of his lungs with excited tickles. He looked down, at the confused frightened tiny in his hand. How adorable of a sight, how pathetic the heaving motions of her little chest. She was such pretty little thing; her brown hair, wrapped in a cute bun, her little librarian-esque outfit in colors of autumn, embracing a theme of dark academia.

He knew he could ruin it all, paint this pretty girl into unsightly reds, an affront to the god that had made her, as he became her new diety, her end, her destruction.

A smile of childlike wonder crept across the caretaker’s lips. His eyes grew hungry, as he brought the fingers of his other hand over to the palm that held her. The palm that was meant to be her carriage out of danger.

“Harm?” Elena shuddered. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Caleb spread the middle- and ring finger of the hand that held her, so wide that they almost pressed against his pinky and index finger, creating a gap large enough for Elena’s tiny body to pass through. He let the fingers of his other hand push her little body across his palm, head-fists towards the gap.

Elena squirmed, pinned on her back, fearing what would happen if she were to fall between those fingers and drop to the ground below. He was pushing her over a cliffside, to her doom.

“Harm, what are you doing, stop!”

As she tried to look behind her at the gap between Harm’s clawed fingers, she could catch a glimpse of that creepy woman smile at her, enjoying the show Harm was putting on.

Elena felt the solid ground of warm skin beneath her head give way. Her head was now right between the dreamy man’s fingers, with nothing to rest on.

“H-Harm?”

The nurse’s smile held, with careless curiosity as the fingers began to warp inward, closing into a fist on the rest of Elena’s body, the joints of the fingers beside her tightening on her head, the only part of her body left exposed to the open air.

She felt his fist heat up her body, squeezing every inch of her. The entirety of her was held within that caring hand, which had tightened into a prison. Her head pinned between the joints of his fingers.

“Help!” She screamed. “Someone help me!”

Caleb let her, gave her some time to scream her little lungs out. No one would hear. No one would notice in time to do anything to help. None but God could hear her now, and he was having too much fun to stop.

The giant squeezed. Elena felt his soft skin harden with pressure. She screamed as her bones began to give way, her knees bent back to a breaking point, her upper leg popping out of a collapsing hip, until her ribs snapped and bore into her lungs silencing her, as all she could let out of her windpipe was blood.

Tears flooded her face, the last thing she saw was the sadistic smile of that handsome caretaker who always knew when to say something cocky or clever, and when to keep mysteriously quiet, teasing his adoring victims, as he left them wondering; what was he thinking behind that adorable smug little stare of his?

Caleb’s fingers tightened on her head, causing Elena’s skull to collapse. Her jaw popped loose, while her eyes bulged out of their sockets. With a delighted boyish giggle, he rubbed the joints of his fingers together until what was left no longer resembled a head. All those thoughts, all those fantasies were now nothing but paste between Caleb’s fingers.

The sound of the world around him returned, cars, people talking in the distance, the fuzzy feeling in his lungs was gone, all he felt now was the warm and wet of blood inside his hand.

Caleb held his breath and fell to his knees. His fist loosened. His fingers spread, revealing the gore and ruin he had wrought upon the innocent girl’s body.

With a deep voice, he let out a pathetic sound. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs to get out a full word, just an agonized wail collapsing into a voice crack, as he attempted to scream the word no.

He gasped for air, as he let his hand tilt, until the gory, headless remains slipped off his palm and fell to the ground.

“What did I do?!” he howled. “What did you make me do?!”

Wr8 answered with a sing-song voice, “Nothing you didn’t want to.”

Caleb whimpered, “I-I didn’t! I didn’t want to-”

“Oh, you self-righteous repressing fuck-stains can’t lie to me anymore.”

“How did you?!”

“How did I what? Force you to show me who you really are?” Wr8 stepped closer, and brushed aside the locks of hair in front of his eye. “Just a little gift I picked up during the games. I’ll get you an invite. I used to have my doubts, but you’re clearly one of us.”

“G’h- ha- fucking kill you!” Caleb screamed as he lunged at her face.

Wr8 stepped back just in time to avoid his hands grabbing onto her, causing him to topple forward onto his elbows. Caleb scrambled to get up.

“Help!” Wr8 shouted, echoing the desperate calls of Elena like a forest mimic. “Someone, help me!”

Caleb got to his feet and jumped her like a madman, riding her to the ground, as he clenched his bloodied hands around her throat.

“You made me-” Caleb shouted, spitting from his frothing mouth. “You killed- Made me kill- You killed me!”

There was a moment of genuine panic in Wr8’s eyes, before Caleb could feel the hands of bystanders pull him off her.

“Hell’s wrong with you!” A man’s voice shouted, as it took three of them to drag him away from Wr8.

Wr8 gasped for air, before pointing at Caleb in horror, “He killed her! He stole that girl from the center and killed her!”

Slowly the eyes of every bystander fell upon the sight of a tiny woman’s mangled body, the contents of the little shoulder bag scattered, her book full of dark passions lay beside her, bloodied by one of the real-life barbarians she had come to fear; the ones who could never be anything like the beautiful myths Elena would seek in her escapism.

“Someone call the police! Call 911!”