I rushed to his side, finding enough strength to lift the couch clumsily to the side. I was happy to see that he was still breathing, but that was about the only good news. He looked in worse condition than I imagine I did when I was dumped in here.


His whole body was one big bruise, and the same clothes he was wearing when we got taken, were in tatters. I couldn't explain it, but his whole body seemed flatter than it should have.


I tried my best to wake him, but he was unresponsive. I couldn't tell the extent of the damage, but that girl had done some serious work on him. I didn't know if Nea had orders to help him too, so I decided I would have to help him until she did.


Putting his arm over my shoulder, I hoisted him awkwardly to a standing position. I made our way slowly to the first bedroom in the hallway, and though it was a struggle, I eventually got him up on the bed. I walked back out to the kitchen, and opened the now dented freezer door. It was seriously blowing my mind how equipt this place really was, as there were multiple ice packs waiting in there. Taking 3, I re-entered the bedroom.


To access the situation, I stripped Andrew down to his boxers. His chest was dark blue and green and his legs seemed slightly swollen. He was covered in blood, but it looked to be mostly the girls. He did have a huge knot and cut above his left eye that was leaking on to the pillow.


I made a trip to the closet, and grabbed the first soft shirt I found. I wrapped it around his head, with the ice pack inside. I took the other two, and put them on his legs. After doing all I could do, I left him be, and walked back into the living room.

I felt compelled to clean up the mess in there, but decided against it. Why should I have to do anything other than just sit here. What I did do, is take the opportunity to set up a bit of an offensive. As far as I could tell, there weren't any cameras in here, so I could make moves freely.


Grabbing every knife and big fork from the kitchen, I went from room to room, leaving a few in every closet and under every bed. Not that I would have time to run and hide again if that girl decided to come back for me, but if I did, I would at least have the element of surprise on my side and might be able to ruin her day.



After that, I did end up shoving the couch back into relative position. Not for any reason other than I didn't want to stand.


"Fucking bitch." I said to myself as I looked over all the damage the girl had done to the place.


The television would have at least made this bearable but now I was stuck in silence with nothing to do but think about what terrible things awaited me in this next "meeting." I was 100% sure that it would with Bridgette. That was my luck to a T. Flashbacks of her trampling me like garbage and using my body like a fucking window squeegy pissed me off to no end. I didn't know how, but I knew I needed to take a chunk out of her.



About an hour and a half later, my heart almost stopped, when out of nowhere, the lights in the room outside of the cell turned off. I guess the lights I side the cell were on the same circuit, because they all dimmed just enough so I could make my way back to a bedroom.


I Decided to call it a night, but not before I grabbed all of Andrew's ice packs and replaced them with fresh ones. He was still unresponsive, which worried me, but I would try again to wake him in the morning.


I climbed into the bed across the hall from him. I noticed immediately that it was incredibly comfortable. I didn't know exactly who these people were, but I did know that they seemed to spare no expense. Again I figured that holding us prisoners wasn't probably what this cell was for. I didn't think that I would ever be the recipient of that hospitality though. I really had a sneaking suspicion that there was more pain, and more confrontations in my future. Ever seeing the outside world again almost seemed an impossibility.


. . . . .



"Marcus. . . "


"MARCUS!"


I was getting tapped on my shoulder.

I immediately rolled away like a kid who wanted five more minutes of sleep.


"Marcus, wake the fuck up!"


I finally obliged, and found Andrew standing above me. He still appeared in rough shape but at least he was awake. He had wiped some of that giant girls blood off of his face and had thrown on one of the 6 inch tall shirts that fit him like a full length robe.

"Wh-what's up, What's wrong man?" I asked, sleepily.

"Haha, that's a fucked up question and answer isn't it!" He said. Though he did laugh, I could tell he was dead serious.

Waking up a little bit, thoughts of his body's condition came to mind.

"You. . . Should probably lay back down Andrew. You're in pretty rough shape." I offered, sitting up in my bed.

"I will. . . But, who is that big girl crying in the living room?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Big girl crying in the living room?" I repeated, thinking. "Oh fuck! Is that girl that had you back here!?" I asked him, whipping the covers back and grabbing for my butcher knife on the night stand.

"No, no! Thank God! She is still small, just bigger than us." He explained.

"What the fuck? I thought to myself.

"Uhh, stay here man. . . I'll go check it out." I said, holding up the knife.

He only nodded.


I slowly stuck my head out and looked. I couldn't immediately see anyone but I could hear somebody crying in the living room. Cautiously with my knife in front of me, I made my way out of my room and down the hall. I took one deep breath, then stepped out into the living room.



"Oh what the fuck! Samantha!?" I regarded her.


She was huddled in the corner of the room, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. Her head snapped up when she heard my voice. What happened next wasn't anything like the reaction I thought she would have.


The sad, pitiful, mascara smeared face went from crying to bitchy in about one second.


"Oh my fucking god!" She spat, her distaste for me was evident as all hell.


"Samantha. . . Are. . Are you alright?" I asked, genuinely worried.


"Shut the fuck up Marcus! What do you even care?! You are the reason I'm here!" She shouted, wiping tears from her eyes.


"Hey, I was just trying to make the work space a better place!" I argued in my defense.


"Oh, I bet! Nothing you do is genuine! You're a scheming little weasel at work and in the outside world. Now it's just finally catching up with you. I hope they break you in here Marcus, I really do." She said quietly, turning her face away from me and just going quiet.


Without thinking, I ran off at the mouth in the moment.

"Why don't you shut up and do something about it! Instead of being all talk and no action like always! How long exactly did you try for the last supervisor position before Bridgette gave it to Greta just to piss me off? That must mean I outrank you for importance doesn't it?" I shouted, laughing a malicious fake laugh.

That did it. . . . Any self-pity Samantha had been feeling up to this point had just been obliterated. The scowl on her face told me I was in for it now as she stood up and up and up to her full 6 inch height.

Shit. . . . I forgot that Andrew had told me that. Whoever had been dealing with Samantha, had seen fit to shrink her only to the standard 6 inch mark, not 3 like myself and Andrew. At the same height, I SHOULD have had more strength than her. . . . I mean. . .I AM scrawny by any measure of the word, but she's a woman and I'm a man! But at half the scale. . . I say scale because shrinking isn't just about height. Our build stays proportionate, so now I was just a weedy little man in front of this mousy little assistant who happened to be twice my size.

Samantha turned to me, her face was a bright shade of red and her hair was mess. I I instincually took a step back as she took one toward me. I hadn't noticed, but I was unconsciously brandishing the knife shakily in my hands in front of me.


"See Marcus, this is why nobody anywhere can fucking stand you for more than 2 minutes. It's like you physically cannot resist doing underhanded shit." She spat at me, referencing the cold silver butcher knife looking comically large in my hands.

She took another step forward and again I went back. This made her chuckle.

"Even WITH that knife, you're too much of a little chicken shit to face me!" She took another step closer, slowly hunting me down. Leading me into her trap.

With my eyes glued on her, I didn't see the crumpled up television behind me, and as I took another step back, my foot caught and I fell back over it and landed hard on my back, jaring the blade from my hands. It clanged to the floor and slid out of reach. Literally as soon as it fell Samantha was after me. I didn't have time to think, so I just bolted away from her.

I Felt like such a little wimp as Samantha chased me around the living room, jumping the t.v. and following me down the hall like a pissed off big sister chasing her annoying little brother. The mental picture was driven home as I ran into what was now officially my bedroom, and tried to slam the door, but as luck would have it, Samantha made it there just in time to keep the door from closing.

For a moment it looked like I might be able to hold her off and get the door closed, but those hopes were shattered when she repositioned her feet to better push.

"Help me push!" I screamed at Andrew, who had a terrified look on his face from the commotion.

He immediately moved to back me up, putting his shoulder into it, and slowly but surely we began to gain back real estate. We had the door to within an inch of closing, and one more big push would successfully seal off the angry amazon outside.

"Ok!" I shouted. "One. . . . . Two. . . . . "Thr-"

As soon as I got to three, Samantha gave her biggest push, catching us both off guard. We were thrown back on to the floor as the giantess pushed her way in.

Andrew was on the ground, clutching his chest and he chose to stay down. I foolishly chose to stand and Samantha immediately grabbed my face in her big hand. She pushed me back and bent me on to the bed, pinning me down and smothering me with her palm.

I struggled against her, trying to pry her hand from my head with my smaller hands but she was too strong. I did manage to kick her in her boob, which only made her more mad. She pinned my legs with her free hand, climbing over them to straddle me. The rest of my air was squashed out of me as she sat heavily on me, her butt covering me from stomach to ankle.

Samantha moved her hands from my face, to my throat, her fingers encircling my whole neck. I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't about to stop, at least until I was unconscious. I was helpless as my former co-worker squeezed the life out of me, the corners of my vision going dark.

By this time, Andrew had gathered himself up. Seeing me about to expire, he jumped into action, climbing onto the bed. He lunged at Samantha, swinging wildly with his tiny fists. To my relief, she released her grip on my throat to fight off Andrew's attack. She held her arms up, blocking every other blow but some landed, catching her in various places on her upper body. Since I could breath, Andrew decided to try to get her off of me completely.

He put his shoulder into her, hoping to push her to the side but she was too heavy for such a move and he was stopped dead in his tracks. They were deadlocked for a moment, before Samantha got leverage on him and devastated him.

I watched in shock as she grabbed him by his shoulders, and gave him a massive shove. He flew through the air for what seemed like an eternity before he smashed into the closet door, cracking the thin wood. He landed in a crumpled mess on the floor and didn't move again.

With him taken care of, Samantha turned her attention back to me. She immediately picked up where she had left off, strangling the life out of me. With Andrew finished, I had no more options and again my vision went dark. I only stared up into samantha's eyes, finding no pity as she finished me off. Just as I was about to go out, I heard the familiar sound of slots in the walls opening, and saw the blue smoke begin to fill the room.