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Story Notes:

This takes place between Kali Corp. 2 and 3. It's just a bit of side story for fun.

        Eric tumbles out of the air vent onto the hard pavement below. He doesn’t get up for a while. Maybe he will kill himself soon.
        He had come back to Haven from his scouting trip to find his home in ruins. There was nobody left, and man-traps had been lain everywhere. One of the rooms had had it’s door broken off and inside were two dead men, one with his back and throat mutilated, and the other with his guts and genitals strewn across the floor. There was a large sewing needle on the floor. Eric has no idea what exactly happened in there. He has been gone for too long.
        He wanders the back alley of the restaurant, eyes downcast. He tries to weigh in his mind whether he should give it all up or not.
        He notices he is still holding the now blunt needle that he used to mark arrows into the walls. After a few moments he drops it.
        At the mouth of the alley there is a giantess. Her eyes are deep blue and her features are sharp. She is in a black chauffeur uniform with purple trim, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, holding a lit cigarette. She has a low-button jacket and short skirt, and a chauffeur hat from which her chin-length straight blonde hair falls. Her thin legs are in shear leggings and she wears simple but elegant leather pumps with two-inch heels. She’s apparently on her smoke break and hasn’t noticed him.
        This is it. His blood runs cold and he feels lightheaded yet extremely focused. There is nothing left in this world but fear and loss and pain. The last few years of his tiny existence had been at great risk and all for naught. All the people he had looked out for were probably dead now.
        He finds himself running, running towards the giantess’ feet as she takes a drag. He can time this just right.
        Eric reaches her shoes, leans on one black heel as he catches his breath. His senses are alert. He is used to this feeling, living outside, but there is an exhilarating difference here as he is ensuring his own doom, not preserving it.
        From above he hears the faint crackling of the short cigarette as it is inhaled, and he instinctively knows it is time. Moments later the butt lands on the ground a few yards in front of him with a soft crash, bouncing and sending sparks everywhere. He sprints from the shadow of the shoe, running free into the open as he hasn’t done since before the shrinking.
        It was only a brief moment. He dives onto the giant cigarette, and it’s over.
        His heart beats in his chest.
        He waits.
        He becomes aware of the lingering heat and choking smell of the of the cigarette.
        This is taking too long.
        Eric cranes his neck up. The giantess is looking down on him with a slight smile, still leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. She cocks an eyebrow.
        “TRYING TO GET KILLED?” she says.
        He is shocked. He has never been addressed by a giantess, let a alone a woman since before he had shrunk.
        “IS IT REALLY THAT BAD FOR YOU RIGHT NOW?”
        Eric has no idea what is going on.
        “COME ON GUY, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING OUT THERE BETTER THAN THIS,” she says, lifting the purple sole of her pump over the man and her cigarette.
        The shoe fills his field of vision as it swivels over him on it’s heel. His heart starts racing again, but this time it’s more panic than exultation. On the sole are the letters KC.
        “YOU REALLY WANT TO DIE LIKE THIS, SQUASHED UNDER A WOMAN’S FOOT, RATHER THAN ANYTHING ELSE?”
        The massive shoe lowers, plunging him into darkness. He couldn’t escape now if he wanted to, the world outside of the shoe now just a narrow strip. He gasps as he feels the first hard touch of the sole on his back.
        “ISN’T THERE ANYONE ELSE OUT THERE?”
        His mind fills with images of people, grateful refugees from all over, entering Haven. He remembers their gratitude, their pure relief. Yes, it had failed in the end, but he had done his best. He had granted some happiness. And maybe they had survived, maybe they were still out there, searching for another home. Who better to help them than himself? It’s his own responsibility to help other people.
        Eric remembers his wife and his two little daughters from before the shrinking. He hasn’t thought of them in a long time. He can’t look after them anymore. It pains him to remember them. But he has a new purpose now.
        Then he remembers he is about to die.
        He groans as the pressure on his back increases, as he is forced down into the giant cigarette. He feels the intense heat still inside of it as his face quickly starts to warm up. He struggles but there is nothing he can do in this awkward position except try to push up against the ground, but it’s hopeless.
        No no no no no no, not now. Fuck.
        The pressure is enormous. The relative softness of the cigarette keeps his ribs from breaking but for how much longer he doesn’t know. He feels like throwing up, probably his guts being squashed up inside of him. He screams as the skin on his face starts to smolder. His arms and legs start flailing in a last hopeless fight of his life.
        Suddenly he is rolling across the ground. He looks up and sees the woman smirking.
        “DON’T TELL ME YOU STILL WANT ME TO SQUISH YOU.”
        He painfully shakes his head and lifts his hands up.
        “DIDN’T THINK SO,” she says.
        Eric groans and starts to stand up. He feels his face where the skin has started to flake off. He smells burnt hair.
        “PETRA!” Another woman calls from the main street.
        Petra quickly steps on the cigarette butt and grinds it out, sending Eric sprawling in alarm.
        “HAVE A NICE LIFE,” she says as she steps over him and walks away towards her waiting limo.
        Eric stands up again and looks around. He takes a deep breath. He needs to get back under cover.
        Jogging stiffly back down the alley, he wonders where to start now. He should look for survivors. He’ll need to mark a path though.
        Wasn’t there a nice sharp needle back in Haven?

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