Maria pulled out her phone to check the time. It has been 5 hours since she first found the prison in its current state, and it has taken her exactly that long to gather every last inmate, guard, social worker, doctor, prison psychologist, and janitor that had the misfortune of being in the prison at whatever time it shrunk.

               It helped that entire portions of the prison surrendered freely and consigned themselves to the boxes, but even still it has taken her the entire day to cover her mistake. She even dismantled each individual building, and boxed every last scrap of debris.

               Maria let out a heavy sigh as she began to walk back to her car, which was now completely crammed with people filled boxes. She had absolutely no idea what to do with them, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to turn them over to the authorities.

               She looked over at a small pile of dirt under a tree. There she buried what was left of the man who she accidentally crushed; it was the least she could do for him.

               I’m way too deep into this. If I back out now I’ll probably end up in prison as well, she thought to herself as she grasped the wheel of her car and looked beyond the mountain of boxes.

               “Oh my god the irony.” She said as she made a U-turn, took the long road back to the highway, and inconspicuously merged back into normal traffic.

               About halfway through the drive back to her sorority house she began to notice the screaming. It was subtle at first, but as she neared the interior of Los Angeles she was forced to make more and more stops. These stops probably scared the hell out of the people inside.

               “What have I gotten myself into.” She said gripping her hair out of frustration, and finally turning up the radio to drown out the thousands of howling voices in the background.

               The rest of the drive back to the sorority house was fairly uneventful, and Maria was simply thankful that it was 8:00 PM on a Sunday night; otherwise it’d be a lot harder to sneak the boxes inside the sorority house.

               ****

               Gerome had been covered in darkness for more than six and a half hours, when the sound of Maria’s car engine cutting finally snapped him from his catatonic state.

               There was now dead silence, other than the distant noise of Maria’s sandals slapping the pavement, and acting as a constant reminder that he was nothing but an insect to her; a pathetic object that can be completely destroyed without even conscious thought. Just like the two guards on the tower.

               Then he felt his tired body shift. Maria was now at where she lived, no doubt some kind of college dorm, and based on the sensation he could tell that he was now being moved inside. He shuttered at the thought of being in such a place at his height. The thought of not one, but 50, 60, or even 100 horny immature adolescents and young adults just waiting to inflict their own unique brand of cruelty on him and the others.

               As Maria walked up what he could only assume to be stairs, he began hearing the distant voices of multiple young girls; some playing, some watching television, others just sitting around discussing classes or personal matters. It was an unusual sensation; he felt like he was on a boat adrift at sea, but instead of deadly waves he was surrounded by deadly women.

               Finally his metaphorical boat ride ended, and a sudden stillness befell the entire box.

               ****

               It had taken Maria yet another hour, but she managed to finally empty her car of every last box. Thankfully she was an upperclassmen and a notoriously hard studier, so when her sisters saw her entering the house with boxes that she had cleverly labeled ‘School Supplies: Do not touch’, they didn’t even question it. For them it was just Maria being Maria.

               She was still at a loss as to what to actually DO with them. She didn’t have the heart to kill them, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to sell them either. Of course the biggest issue is that she has tons of ‘school supplies’ in the basement of her sorority house, and eventually people are going to get suspicious. This is LA after all, and all mysterious packages are immediately presumed to be drugs.

               She had to face facts. If she didn’t want to be charged with murder, and now also kidnapping, she had to tell someone.

               And so, Maria went looking for the only other girl she could trust with a secret this heavy; her friend Cynthia Baranski.

               Maria first checked the lounge, which was her usual hangout, and much to her relief she was there as expected, sitting and watching some fashion show with a few of the pledges. 

               “Maaarrriiiiaaaa.” Shouted Cynthia from the couch, “What’s going on? Did you hear the news, that prison you were going to visit just vanished right off the face of the earth.”

               “I did… hear the news, I mean.” Said Maria trying to sound casual, but failing.

               “OH MY GOD! You were supposed to go there today!” shouted the jittery blonde from the couch, apparently not noticing the distress Maria was in, “What the hell happened?”

               “I decided not to go. I had… other things to do.” Said Maria as the almost comically short blonde leaped from the couch, ran over to Maria, and embraced her in a warm hug.

               “Well I for one am happy you didn’t go. The FBI says they had absolutely no idea what happened. People are already calling it the greatest mystery of the 21st century.” Said Cynthia with an amused cock-eyed smile that would normally seem unladylike, but in Cynthia’s case it was just downright adorable.

               “Listen Cinni we have to talk.”

               “Ok then,” replied Cynthia, “Attention Pledges. You clean up the mess; we big sisters have… stuff to discuss.”

               “So what’s up?” Said Cynthia in her normal high pitched sugary voice.

               Maria looked around the house. Besides being in desperate need of a cleaning, there was now no chance of them being overheard or followed. “It’s about the prison.” Whispered Maria while motioning towards the basement.

               ****

               Gerome slammed his hands into the cardboard, desperate for some kind of sensation. It has been at least 7 hours since he has seen the light of day, and his sanity was slowly slipping. Many of the others had already gone insane; one man believed they were all in hell.

               You know I actually kind of miss the screaming! This silence is unbearable, he thought sarcastically to himself as he waited for something, anything to happen.

               Suddenly the room was filled with the sounds of two pairs of feet, one pair of which he knew for sure belonged to Maria.

               “I don’t understand what our getting at.” Said a thundering yet incredibly sweet voice.

               “That’s the truth Cinni, you have to believe Me.” said a distressed voice which he instantly recognized as Maria’s.

               The second Maria’s voice was heard, everyone in the box began to squirm and crawl around, no doubt so frightened that they couldn’t even realize that there was nowhere to go.

               The two pairs of feet grew closer until they were directly upon the boxes. Everyone grew silent and the only noise he could hear was the panicked breathes of his fellow captives.

               A scratching sound was heard and then the light brown cover was lifted from the container, revealing the entire interior and temporarily blinding the light depraved inhabitants inside.

               “Oh my god Maria! What the hell have you done.” squealed a high-pitched feminine voice from high above.

               Gerome covered his eyes and looked up into the heavens, and was once again flabbergasted by what he saw. It was Maria, as tall and voluptuous as ever; only this time she was accompanied by an equally attractive, but significantly shorter blonde.

               This was the first time he had the opportunity to truly take a good look at his captor, and he was not disappointed. Maria and her friend’s enormous bodies took up the entire skyline, to the point where they appeared almost distorted due to the limitations of human vision.

               Every breath taken by each girl was accompanied by a sudden swell in their chest, which stretched the now visible fibers of their clothing. For him every facial movement, every muscle twitch became as obvious as a fireworks show.

               Their enormous bodies, particularly Maria’s face, seemed to shine from the normally unnoticeable layer of sweat that covers most people bodies. Even their humble hands, which in any other circumstance would go unappreciated, now stood tall over Gerome as monuments to the infinite power they now held over his life.

               “Cynthia I need your help, I don’t know what to do with them.” Asked Maria while clasping herself for support, apparently so shaken up by her accidental killing that she could barely stand herself.

               Cynthia sighed and stared down into the container with cold unaffectionate blue eyes, “Maria, do you even know how many people you have here?”

               “Last time I checked the prison’s population was a little over 6,000 with at least another 2,000 guards.” Shuttered Maria who looked as if she was beginning to realize the scale of her mistake.

               “And that’s not even counting the janitors, staff, social workers, and families living in the prison.” added Cynthia with a childish smirk that caused a chill to crawl up Gerome’s spine, “Look Maria, I’ll help you, just not for free.”

               “What!” exclaimed Maria.

               “I want half of all these… people.” Said Cynthia while pointing to the open box.

               Maria was confused, but in no position to argue, “Ok I accept, but why?”

               Cynthia’s face turned to one of lust, and before any of the poor souls inside the box could react; she had already bent over and was now no more than 10 meters from the shivering cowering mass of people. “Because. I have unfinished business with them.” cooed Cynthia in a sweet playful voice that was a disturbing mix of childlike wonder and psychopathic maliciousness.

               Then without even consulting Maria, Cynthia reached in with her hand and grabbed several people at random, stuffing their fidgeting bodies into the front pocket of her hoodie.

               Maria looked once again as she was in no position to argue. She was clearly concerned for their lives, but she was far more concerned with herself, “Just take the entire box.” Said Maria dismissively before walking away.

               Cynthia’s baby blue eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and before Gerome could react he, along with most of the remaining people were swept up by Cynthia’s hand and thrown into her front pocket.

               Then she began to walk up the stairs, towards her room where Gerome was confident that many of the people he was currently crammed up against would not be making it out alive.

               “Hey Cynthia” said what sounded like a younger girls voice, perhaps a freshmen.

               Cynthia sighed, “You’re an Alpha Beta Omega now, Amanda.” She said to the nervous sounding girl as she walked towards her room, “So remember that until you’re a junior, you gotta call me ‘big sis’, kay?”

               “Yeah, ok.” Said the now dejected sounding girl before Cynthia shut the door in her face and locked it.

               “Typical pledge girls, I remember when I was that age.” She said to no one in particular, “Now! Onto more important things.”

               Light entered the pocket, blocked only by 5 thick branches reaching for them. It’s not like they could do anything and so Gerome along with everyone in her hoodie pockets was dumped unceremoniously on the cold hardwood floor.

               Gerome leapt to his feet instantly, adrenaline surging through him due to excessive stress. He looked around; it was the room of a college girl, presumably Cynthia’s. He could tell from the disorganized papers and discarded clothing that she was by no means a neat or organized girl.

               Looking up and into the distance he saw Cynthia roaming like Godzilla through a skyline of super-sized furniture, occasionally stepping on and altering the shape of little hills that turned out to just be articles of clothing.

               She looked directly at the frightened crowd, and then turned to face them. Then with the finesse of a dancer she spun around in a cutesy twirl while removing both her hoodie and shirt.

               Her pink socked foot landed with a dull thud right in front of them. Then, as if she didn’t even consider them a threat to her modesty she removed and tossed her parachute sized pants into the distance.

               Cynthia got on all fours, and wrapped her arms around the crowd, as if she was herding cattle, “Ok. I want all of the guards in this group to step aside please.” She commanded with a smile and pointed to an alcove created by a pile of clothing.

               There were only 3 guards who were still alive in this group; No doubt due to the prison riot. Upon closer inspection Gerome could see that one of them was the younger guard from the prison.

                Cynthia’s hand moved at them like a shifting wall of flesh. Gerome, who was busy inspecting his surroundings was unprepared and the hand hit him at full force, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him sprawling to the ground when he landed in a small pile of men.

               “I can only assume the rest of you are prisoners.” Said Cynthia’s judgmental voice from high above, “and let me tell you, I don’t like criminals.” She continued while pointing to a large scar across the left side of her ribcage.

               “It was one of YOUR kind that gave me this little reminder. So that every time I look in a mirror, I am constantly aware that there are men like you out there who want only to hurt, and kill, and… fuck everything in your sight.” yelled Cynthia in a venomous yet distressed sounding voice.

               She pulled out several objects from a small bag. A lighter, a condom, dental floss, a clay pot, a battery, a bottle of water, and a very over sharpened pencil. “Look how the tables have turned. Before I was too weak… too small, to do anything about it, but now…”

               The men in the crowd scattered as Cynthia’s hand moved towards them, with the exception of one man, Gerome; who was just too tired to move. Her hand grabbed Gerome along with several other men. Then she slapped the rest back into a neat little pile in front of her.

               “Tell me your name.” she demanded towards one of the prisoners.

               “Houston, bitch. Now put me down, Yo!” Said Houston, who Gerome recognized as a serial arsonist and kidnapper from the San Francisco area.

               Cynthia’s face lit up. It was as if he had said exactly what she wanted to hear, “Ok.” She said simply before pinching his head between two of her fingers.

               Houston screamed as the pressure from Cynthia’s nimble digits increased, and he was lifted by his head and neck into the air; his body twitching from the extreme pain of having one’s spine stretched. Then without hesitation she released her grip, dropping the hardened criminal to the ground where he landed with a hard slap.

               Next she put them all on the ground, and placed the blown up items in a circle equidistant from the group of men. “Pick something,” She commanded to the frightened and confused group of delinquents.

               The men looked at each other, as if to measure up their opponents. Then one man began to walk towards the lighter, followed by another towards the pencil; finally everyone was moving. Gerome was afraid, tired, and injured, but he had to keep going if he wanted to live.

               Gerome picked the water bottle, he was thirsty after all and maybe she’d let him drink. Of course he highly doubted that.

               Cynthia inspected her macabre pick and choose game and appeared satisfied with the results.

               “I want you to all know that every last one of you deserves this. You all made the decision to become who you are, and now… at last, there’s going to be REAL consequences for all the lives you’ve ruined.” She said with passion unlike anything Gerome had heard before.

               “Let’s start with you,” said Cynthia picking up the man and the lighter; her hand firmly on the flint and the lighter pointed directly at his body.

               Gerome watched as the man squirmed desperately against the petite blondes now elephant sized hands to no avail. He was basically just a toy to her, and the look on her face confirmed that. There was no malice or excitement in her eyes; that would imply that she even considered them human. Rather, the look on her face was one of preoccupation. It’s the same look one would have while making coffee or stacking papers; it was a face of total disregard.

               If Gerome didn’t know any better he’d think that she was lost in her own memories.

               “I promise I’ll be good, I swear! I won’t hurt anyone ever again. Have mercy.” Sputtered the mentally broken man restrained by her fingers as she jerked her thumb down and sparked the lighter.

               “Please!” he screamed, his voice cracking with pain as Cynthia jammed one of her now thick blade sized fingernails deep into his shoulder to silence him.

               Then with a click, the lighter was lit.

               Gerome almost vomited as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air, and the sound of a full grown man crying in agony overwhelmed his senses. There was nothing he could do, but watch as the man clawed and bit her brawny finger in desperation, all the while his legs, torso, and finally arms were slowly burned to a crisp.

               Cynthia’s eyes widened and Gerome had seen enough killers to tell that she was extremely satisfied with what she just did. She put the phone booth sized lighter down and immediately reached for another man; her lust for vengeance or perhaps just blood not yet satisfied.

               Her hand easily found the man and the pencil. Then without any buildup she grabbed him by his tiny legs, effortlessly twisted her wrist and slapped him on the ground, then jammed the enormous yellow streetlamp sized pillar hard up into his abdomen; the brittle graphite snapping upon impact and acting as shrapnel imbedded in his wound which was now black from the lead and red from the blood.

               Her face became crazed, filled with anger and pain. She hated them, every last one of them. To her they were insects on her floor just begging to be killed. The other prisoners realized this and ran as fast as they could in all directions. All except for Gerome, who still was too tired to run.

               Cynthia smiled. This was everything she expected it to be, and everything she wanted it to be.

               She grabbed the condom and the floss and stood up to her full magnificent height. Her shimmering blonde hair and beautiful face shinned radiantly from the sweat and heat released by what must have been a tremendous level of emotional and psychological satisfaction.

               The behemoth college girl looked down and grinned with pleasure. As it turns out there was a man hiding behind the clay bowl.

               There was no hesitation, and immediately after she found him Cynthia brought her socked foot down hard onto his legs. The musky scent of her well-worn socks filled the air as the man’s legs were methodically ripped from his body by her powerful toe muscles and ground into her thick damp socks, turning a select area beneath her first and second toes from light pink to dark red.

                She scanned the room and found two more. One a Hispanic gangster, the other a deranged biker; both murderers. Cynthia was panting like a dog at this point, high on the feelings of power and vengeance that overtook her every time she killed another prisoner.

                Vengeance is one hell of an aphrodisiac, thought Gerome as he watched from a distance.

               Cynthia’s face twisted into a dark inspired smile, and with one hand she gripped the two men, and with the other she rubbed the scar across her side. “Let’s go someplace private, hmm?” she teased before stomping off to the bathroom across the room, her mighty explosive footfalls causing Gerome’s heart to leap with every ambitious vengeance driven step.

               The bathroom door slammed, and when it did Gerome took off running towards the 3 guards, who were motioning for him and the other prisoners to come over.

               A few moments later Cynthia returned, with a condom covered dildo and the biker now tightly tied up with dental floss and dangling from her hand.

               She placed the dildo on her bed and removed the Hispanic man from elastic waistband of her panties, which she then promptly discarded along with her bra.

               Despite feeling somewhat ashamed with himself, Gerome couldn’t help but get slightly aroused. She was beyond gorgeous, and her passion, even if it was driven by a lust for blood was admirable in its own way.

               Cynthia leapt onto her bed, her firm albeit somewhat small breasts jostling upon her body’s impact. She stretched her cute sculpted frame across the bed, scrunching her dainty toes as a shiver of satisfaction rushed up her sweat soaked body.

               It appeared as though vengeance and closure had turned to pleasure. And possibly without even realizing it, Cynthia had plunged the Hispanic man as well as two of her man-sized fingers into her hot wet cunt, fingering herself and smiling triumphantly as she used her other hand to hold the floss bound biker over her open mouth like some kind of living puppet.

               Her tongue folded out from her mouth like a beast, and began playing with the bound terrified criminal hovering just above her lips. The sticky flesh colored mass flicking him back and forth before flattening out to allow her hand to place him inside. The man cursed as loud as he could, but before he could finish, Cynthia had already brought her smooth thin lips down over him and was starting to suck  on his body like a piece of hard candy dangling from a string.

               Gerome looked on at the hedonistic display with fascination, as the deranged victimized college girl continued her half revenge half sex driven romp. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as he watched a girl whose height is measured in stories, and whose smallest body parts were larger than his entire body use two men like objects to satisfy both her need for sexual satisfaction and emotional closure.

               Cynthia was beginning to cry, never before had she felt this much contentment from life itself. Vengeance was hers, pleasure was hers, and the lives of these disgusting criminals were now also hers. This was what ran through her head as she finally deposited the bewildered shivering Hispanic man directly on her clit, before slamming the head of her dildo hard into his body, and up into hers.

               She could feel him moving around inside her, panicking and desperately punching the inner walls of her vagina as he choked on her viscous ejaculate; his ability to resist fading with every bone-crushing thrust of her dildo. This time it was the man who was the powerless one, not her.

               Cynthia closed her eyes, allowing herself to become lost in the moment. She bit down on the man inside her mouth, and imagined that she was biting the man who violated her. His blood began to fill her mouth and she found herself drooling at the thought of killing the bastard who raped her and gave her that scar those many years ago.

               Gerome meanwhile swore there was a demon at work as Cynthia’s hips bucked hard back and forth on her bed; her cute cheeks and lips stained by crimson ribbons of blood mixed with saliva, and her eyes red and puffy from tears.

                He watched her powerful thigh muscles convulse as she neared climax and her jaw shift back and forth as she gnawed on the poor man inside her mouth.

               At last it was done. Cynthia arched her spine high into the air, and began pleasuring herself faster than ever before. Her bulging voluminous musculature pulsing as she strained herself for every last ounce of pleasure, before finally collapsing onto her bed, exhausted, but satisfied at having finally gotten the closure she needed to end a very dark period in her life.

               The men huddled together in fear when she rose back to her feet, spat out the bikers now unrecognizable body from her mouth, and removed the limp man from between the moist folds of her twat and tossing his disfigured corpse what seemed like hundreds of feet to the garbage can.

               Cynthia wiped the tears from her eyes and then walked over the group of awe struck men, “I really needed that.” She said panting as she stood directly over them stretching her spine, and causing the caustic fluids of her sexual escapades to drip from in-between her thighs and down onto the petrified cluster of guards and prisoners that had gathered in a group for protection.

               Cynthia yawned and looked down at her gaggle of terrified men, completely indifferent to her nudeness; after all, it’s not like they’re going to tell anyone. She raised her foot over the crowd which immediately dispersed, much to her amusement. They were sort of adorable, in a pitiable kind of way.

               “Yeah… I’m keeping some of you.” She declared with a cock-eyed smile before reaching for a shoebox on the other side of the room.

               “These are Maria’s shoes anyways so I may as well send some of her other belongings back with them.” She reasoned and opened the box which contained a pair of old running shoes.

               Gerome felt warm flesh touch his once again as he was lifted and deposited in the shoebox along with about half of the prisoners, and the 3 guards who were positioned away from the prisoners by Cynthia for their own safety.

               Uniforms don’t really matter since we’re all prisoners now, thought Gerome as she placed the shoebox in the corner, texted Maria to come pick it up later, and then returned to her bed with 5 of the most dangerous looking criminals of the group in her hand.

               Gerome looked around the container. Four walls and no way out, “From one cell to another,” He whispered before lying on the tough scratchy ground, and closing his eyes to sleep. His peaceful slumber only occasionally interrupted by Cynthia’s distant moans of pleasure.