When I phased back into reality, I was laying in a heap on a carpet floor. I fought to not pass right back out as my current position was straining my crushed ribs. I let out a pained scream and rolled over on to my back. The pain lowered only a notch but it WAS better so that is where I stayed for the next 4 hours, with my eyes closed, just contemplating my life.


I was presumably still 3 inches tall. I was being held by an organization capable of not only orchestrating kidnappings, but also shrinking people and who knew what else. The last and biggest problem was, I hadn't told anyone where I was going, so there would be no where to start looking. As professional as these people were, I imagine they already scrapped my car, so there would be no lead for anyone. I was royally fucked.



As I layed there, nursing my battered body, I heard a noise above me. I wasn't about to get up and look to see what was going on, but for the first time I looked up and noticed that the ceiling wasn't a ceiling at all. It was a clear cover, and far far above, I could see the white ceiling of the actual room. Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, the giant face of an African American woman appeared above me. I flinched, sending a twinge of pain through my chest.

I expected she was there to grab me, but I didn't expect was what happened next. I heard things all around the room, before a loud hissing sound began. Immediately I noticed a light blue smoke begin to fill the room.

"Fuck!" I yelled, when I realized I was being poisoned.

Finding the strength to stand, I took in my surroundings for the first time. I was in a clean looking, hyper modern apartment, only I could tell it was made to the scale of 6 inch people. I really didn't have time to marvel it at all though, as the smoke was closing in on me. Thinking fast, I tried to limp down the hall to my left, and opened the first door on my right. To my surprise, the room was already clouded, and opening the door, depressurized it into my face. Before I could turn away, I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The last thing I saw was the smoke clear, and the glass cover being lifted.




Pain. More pain than I had felt thus far. I was getting used to screaming at the top of my lungs by now. I opened my eyes and was blinded by a white light. My hands shot to whatever was actively pressing on my ribs and hit something solid. I lifted my head and looked to see that first of all, I was completely naked. My body was completely covered in some type of green gel. The shock of that alone was enough, but to top it off, giant gloved fingers were prodding and rubbing the gel into my skin.


Instantly, I tried to roll over and get away from the pain. A voice from above stopped me.

"That wouldn't be wise, little man. . ." The feminine voice said. The light was dimmed by the giant head of the woman I saw before. Her head seemed impossibly huge, before I realized I was seeing the outline of her loose curled afro.

Her fingers pushed me back on to the table and I allowed it for the moment.

"Claire really did a number on you." She Commented, and I heard genuine pity in her voice, something I hadn't heard since I started this whole adventure.

"As if you couldn't feel it already, but every one of your ribs are either broken or fractured. You're honestly lucky they didn't piece any organs.

"Can. . . Can you get me out of here?" I stammered, just cutting right to the chase. I honestly thought I had a chance for a split second as she looked me over, but she immediately squashed my hope.

"Uhh. . As much as I would love to. . . It isn't possible. Not only is what we're doing here for the greater good, I'm afraid if I helped you I would likely find myself in the same situation as you." She answered honestly. I really couldn't blame her. We were dealing with people who had seemingly unlimited resources and apparently no conscious. It was literally no stretch at all to believe they would turn on one of their own in a heartbeat.

"Well can you at least answer my questions?" I asked calmly, setting her up.

"To the best of my authority, yes" she answered robotically. I could tell she was going to turn out to be just another corporate asshole.

"Where the fuck am i?"

"The head compound" she answered immediately as she reached for a tool that looked like a stylus but connected with a thick cord, leading to a machine in the distance. I watched the tip of it light up, and she brought it to my chest. Instantly, all the gel began to heat up. I had to admit that it felt pretty good and it soothed a very minute amount of pain from my body.

"The head compound? What the fuck does that even mean? What city? What country?" I asked rudely.

She began to move the stylus over my body, and everywhere it went, the pain or soreness began to ease.

"That is all you need to know Marcus."

"No! That's bullshit! I think you owe me a little more than that." I argued back.

"You would be wise to watch your tone. It would have been easier and cheaper just to put a bullet in your brain, or even save the bullet and just stomp you out. You are a prisoner, not a guest. Don't forget that." She said, with not a change of tone in her voice. She continued working on my body.


"Well can you at least tell me what this shit is that you covered me in? "



"Yes. . . It's a special compound. It has healing properties when applied with heat. Given enough time it has the potential to heal your ribs." She explained.


"How much time?" I spat at her. "You fucking people have the technology to shrink and grow people at will, and you can't instantly fix a broken bone?"


I could tell this got under her skin.


"Look, I don't actually even need to be helping you. Claire just requested you patched up for your next meeting. I'm going above and beyond just because I have pride in my job. Yes, there is a new experimental compound that can change the body so that it heals faster and increases strength and durability, but the scientist working on it, hasn't tested it on humans. So until then, you're just going to have to deal with it."


"What do you mean "patched up for my next meeting?" I demanded.

This time, she didn't answer and only let out an annoyed sigh as she kept working. I didn't push my luck and just layed back and enjoyed the mild heat she was putting into my body. Ever so often, she would look at a thermal and x-ray image of my body and make adjustments to the machine. I decided to just let it ride, and closed my eyes. In spite of how many times I had been knocked out in the last day, I was still tired, so I took this opportunity to get some sleep.

The female scientist, whose name I learned was Nea, placed me back in the holding cell/apartment when she was finished with me. I was thankful that she placed me on the couch instead of just dumping me on the floor like Claire. Without the threat of the blue gas knocking me out, and my body almost fully repaired, I was able to take in my surroundings. There was a t.v. in front of me, and a good sized kitchen to my left. I walked through it, and was surprised to see that it was full of actual miniaturized silverware. My eyes got big as I saw it on the counter top. . . A butcher block full of knives. Overall, the place really didn't look like it was designed for prisoners.

Walking down the hall, I again entered the room from before. It turned out to be a gender neutral bedroom with a queen size bed and decent sized closet. I opened the closet door and noticed that there were both men and women's clothes. Unfortunately for me, there were designed for someone twice my scale, so I was stuck wearing the white hospital style pants and shirt that Nea had given me after my healing.

I continued to explore the other 4 rooms. 3 more bedrooms and one for laundry. Not a bad little set up under better circumstances. I roamed back into the main room and decided to try the t.v.

To my surprise, it actually turned on. A random sports channel appeared on the scream. Soccer with teams I didn't recognize were playing and I quickly changed the channel. Finally I found what I was looking for.

[The Seattle news]

Fuck yeah. . . . .I knew where I was.



It wasn't much of an advantage but I had to take what I could get. The good news was, it was only 2 days after I had been taken. It meant nobody was probably looking for me yet, but it made me feel a little better.


I left the t.v. on in the background as I began to look closer at my surroundings. I noticed the walls had good sized square panels in every room. I imagine that's where that blue knock out gas came from. I wasn't sure if I could use that to my advantage, but it was good to know. A half hour later, I finished my search for a way out. Having found nothing, I climbed up on the oversized couch and began to watch t.v.


I had just gotten comfortable, when I hear the sound of tapping on the dome cover above me. My head snapped up just in time to see another giant face I didn't recognize. This time, it wasn't a scientist or some sadistic milf, but instead, a young blonde haired girl was smiling down on me.


The thing was, it wasn't an innocent, cute smile. I couldn't explain it but there was something fucked up about the look in her eye. A second later, the glass dome was lifted and set aside. I began to panic and stood up. Unconsciously, I retreated from her gaze, easing away towards the kitchen.


I went into full stress mode as I saw the girls hand enter the room. She had chipped orange finger nails and her 3rd finger had a bandaid on it. I bailed behind the counter in the kitchen, crouching so that she didn't have a direct line of sight on me.


Whatever this holding cell was located on, was too big to have an easy access view from directly above. She would have to walk all the way around to actually see what I was doing.


"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" She called in unsettling sing song voice.


The thing that made it worse, was that I couldn't actually see her either. My heart skipped a beat as I heard a creaking on the floorboards in the living room. A moment later, I nearly shit my pants as I saw her first two fingers come walking into the kitchen.


She was fucking with me.


I readied myself, gripping the comically large butcher knife I had grabbed from the block. Holding my breath, I prepared to strike.



"OOWWW! WHAT THE HECK!" the girl screeched, withdrawing her hand.


There were massive droplets of blood on the kitchen floor where I had slashed at her pointer finger. I could hear her making a scene somewhere outside of my confines, but I used the time to make a move.



Peeking over the counter, I didn't see her immediately. Taking a chance, I dashed out from behind, and sprinted around the living room corner to the hallway. Thinking fast, I ran into the first bedroom on the left. I flung the closet door open and jumped inside. Clutching the knife to my chest, I waited for her to do something.


I felt the tremors as the girl stomped angrily around the cell to where she could see the kitchen.


"Ughh! Where'd you go!" She demanded, loud enough that I could hear her through the walls.


That was the last I heard from her, but I still remained in the closet for what seemed like hours. Finally, long after I couldn't feel my legs, I opened the door and peered out. The coast seemed clear. I crawled to my sleeping legs, and limped out into the hallway, knife drawn. I didn't see her above me and the glass cover had been replaced so I decided the coast was clear.

I made my way back into the living room, to see that it was completely trashed. The t.v. had distinct finger grooves in its smashed form, and I knew she had squeezed it in her hand. The couch had been snapped in half, and tossed against the far wall. The kitchen was in bigger shambles than I care to describe. Then I noticed him.


Trapped under one of the heavy couch halves, was 3 inch tall Andrew the reporter.