She looked at the hair one last time. The candles were lit and the wine was still. Melanie’s green eyes grew wide, flaring up in excitement as she unpinched her two fingers. Softly, just like a feather, the brown hair fell. It touched the surface of the wine, stood there, and then slowly sank into the red-black depth. It was gone.

“... Will it work?” Melanie spoke out of turn, burdened by this question. The next step in the ritual was to recite a chant from the tome, the very one that sat next to her on the bedroom floor. Underneath her hunched pose was a bowl of wine and a set of candles, all situated above a chalk-drawn sigil. This elaborate setup was for one express purpose, and that was to shrink another human being.

Do it, she told herself, avoiding the eyes reflected in the wine. Get it over with. Just… try it. Just try, Melanie.

Melanie brought both hands together. Her eyes slowly closed, her lip curled inwards. She hesitated, again asking herself if this could work. Then, a word whispered out of her lips. It became a string of some magical language, complicated yet eloquent. Her energy picked up, only halfway through the chant, and then it slowly died again. The grip of each finger overlapping the other began to weaken until they separated entirely, just at the end of Melanie’s prayer.

There were no chills, certainly no sweeping wind to billow around her like she predicted. Her heart was once fluttering, but now it was stone. The book was a well of gravity in the bedroom, and Melanie felt insults chiding her from its pages. Pathetic glances went between the bowl of wine and the book that told her all this could be real -- all this power, all this control.

Melanie was in bed, the scene and props of the ritual left out in the open. The light was still on, so Melanie hugged the sheets around herself into a coil. Upon her phone was a bright image of the young woman that inspired this. Adrian, her obsession, seen in a snapshot taken without her permission. Melanie could hear the words from Adrian’s mouth taunting her, her response if she knew Melanie was playing make-believe with books: “You’re a creep.”

“Just like she said,” Melanie whined as she sniffled to sleep. “Fuck her… F-Fuck that slut…!”

Scarlet sneezed. “Fuck all this dust,” she snarled, “shit.” Then, she continued to move a desk to one corner so a space could be cleared. There was still much work to be done to prepare Anders Library for the party scheduled tomorrow, but between the size of the mess and her low work ethic, Scarlet was making little progress. She knew this too, acknowledged with a roll of her eyes as she looked over the library and all its abandoned grime.

“They wanted to throw the party here so fucking bad, then why couldn’t they help?” Scarlet groaned. She had inspected the old building the other day to survey its ability as a party location. There was enough space and security was loose around the area, but the lack of air conditioning combined with all the dust gave Scarlet doubts, enough to warrant warning her sorority sisters. “It will be fine,” Scarlet quoted in a mocking voice. “Just sweep it up or something, make it work! Bullshit…”

Scarlet held her head, dabbing away beads of sweat. Her skull felt heavier and imbalanced, and her temperature seemed to drop. Scarlet leaned against a chair for support, her eyes drawn to a desk in a corner. The seat there was empty now, but just the other day, it had been occupied with a zombie -- so Scarlet had joked. A creepy girl who definitely lurked the library often; she had to be scared off, something Scarlet remembered with a light chuckle.

But that amusement vanished with a wince of pain. Her spine tingled, sensing something amiss with the air around her. Something sharp was splitting her skull, a migraine like no other. Still she tried to ignore it, even as it caused her to almost stumble onto a chair that she needed to move. It had to be the heat, she figured.

“Ugh… Fuck this library, man,” Scarlet complained. She had been hoisting the chair to carry it across the floor, but fatigue had her dragging it instead. “We need… s-some fans or something… Open a window, maybe…”

The sharp sensation in her head continued to plummet until even her stomach was turning. She blamed it now on something she ate, collapsing into the chair while both arms hugged her stomach. She scanned the library, seeing all the work she still had to get done, but her legs wouldn’t let her stand. I just need a moment, she thought.

A moment disappeared in the blink of an eye, so it felt like for Scarlet. She dozed off easily and awoke almost a minute later with a jitter. She wanted to stretch out of her discomfort and to also get back on her feet so she could return to her job. However, when she hopped off the chair, it became apparent immediately that this was beyond any normal sickness. The chair behind had grown, just as the desk had, and everything else as well.

Dizziness overcame Scarlet as she recognized that she was shrinking -- of all things, she was truly shrinking. Babbled noises escaped her in attempts to reason with reality, but there was no answer or clue as to why this was happening, or why it was still happening.

Only then did Scarlet’s panic swell enough to erupt; “What the fuck?!” The chair was pushed away and she backed into a leg of the desk behind her. She jumped in fright, panting, until she could stand no longer. She fell onto her rear roughly, watching as the dim ceiling became more distant.

“Th-This has to be a heatstroke,” Scarlet told herself. “I’m totally having a heatstroke right now. Holy shit. Holy shit! Wh-What do I…?! What do I do?!” Her hand rapidly fanned at her sweating temples, but the whole world continued to spiral away from her. Even the seat of her chair, which had just been level with her head a moment before, was now out of reach and only rising further away.

Scarlet closed her eyes and held her breath. If this was a dream, she’d force herself awake, but she was still in her unreal predicament when she opened them again. The library was now a vast land of mountainous shelves and mile-long aisles, a dusty desert that stretched out to impossibly high walls. Despite all this space, the sensation of being trapped couldn’t be shaken off.

And then, emptiness. Scarlet gazed at the expanded library until it no longer stretched away from her. She was hesitant to stand, and only made it as far as her knees. Only her breathing could be heard while everything else, immense as it was, remained still and purely silent.

“... Hello?” Scarlet spoke not very loud. “A-Anyone? Is anyone here?!” She grunted, “What the fuck! Is this a joke?! A-Am I sick or, or, or what?!” She yelled louder, “Hello?! Anyone! Hello?! I-I need help!”

No assistance arrived. She had come to the library by herself and that’s how it had been. She regretted it all now, promising Charlie to clean up Anders Library all alone. She just wanted a break from Omega Kappa, she wanted Charlie to have one less thing to complain about, but that decision was now punishing her. She smacked her hands into her face, frustrated; Why the hell did I tell that creep to leave?! she asked herself. At least if that other student had been around, she could have asked her for help, but there was no sight of her.

Quickly, she reached to her side, feeling all around her shorts. “Fucking dammit, fuck me,” Scarlet hissed. Her anger turned towards the desk above her, as tall as a building. She needed her phone, but it was still in her purse on top of the desk. It seemed impossible to reach at first, but she noticed then that on the opposite end of the table, the strap to her purse hung low off the edge. Perhaps, Scarlet calculated, she’d be able to climb up the strap and get to the table.

It was worth more than just an attempt, it was her only chance at this rate. Even the doors would be too huge to open -- she needed aid. Under the table she went, ignoring all other aches and ailments as they plagued her. A greater despair was settling in as she grew nearer, and that was the realization that the strap, as low as it might have been, was still beyond reach.

“No! Oh, come on!” Scarlet gritted her teeth, then jumped straight. Her arm shot high, the tip of her finger extended as far as it could -- nothing. She missed, swiping at air. “Ughhh,” she tried again, another hop with all her strength concentrated into it. Still not enough, the strap didn’t even sway at her attempts.

Scarlet stomped in a tantrum. She was out of breath, the darkness of the evening was approaching, and so painfully close were her attempts at grabbing the purse. She whined loudly, “What am I supposed to do?!”

“Hey, Scarlet? Where’re you at?” someone called out from the library’s entrance. “We got everything you asked for. You still cleaning up?”

Scarlet lifted her head, pulled out of her exhaustion immediately like a dog on the hunt. Someone had arrived, beckoning specifically for her. Despite how distant the voice was, Scarlet recognized it with great relief; it was Camille, a young newcomer to the sorority. Scarlet forgot all about her during her distress, but she was everything on her mind now.

“Camille?! Th-That’s you, right?!” Scarlet yelled, unaware of how far her voice could even reach. She heard the doors of the library creak open wide, and she began jumping with excitement. “Camille! I’m on the floor! Please!”

Scarlet anxiously awaited to see Camille. She had been hopeful for her arrival, as if her prayers were answered personally by an angel. Those feelings of rescue and security, however, were washed away the instant that Scarlet felt the first vibration of a footstep. The smile that had only just dawned on her had vanished, crumbled by the quake. Another footstep, a heavier vibration. Scarlet held herself, then bunkered against the leg of the desk before another footstep slammed to the ground.

From around a shelf of books, a giantess appeared. Camille unknowingly strolled into Scarlet’s view, her flip-flops smacking the floor to create a cracking sound akin to a whip. Scarlet raced to comprehend how this was a human, a normal person and that it was her that was weird in this world. She stared at the huge person, barely able to recognize her as a younger sister. It was still Camille, but her legs stretched higher than street lights, her skirt billowed in the air like a flag, and the duffel bag in her grasp was larger than a tugboat.

Camille had slowed to a stop, curiously looking around the dim room in search of Scarlet. She hummed idly as she did so, not in the same rush as Scarlet’s racing heart. It wasn’t long before she noticed the lone purse atop the desk, its bright colors contrasting the dry and dark atmosphere of the library. She recognized it as Scarlet’s right away and started to approach, but it didn’t answer her where Scarlet actually was.

Little did she realize how close Scarlet was, nor did she realize how Scarlet cowered and squeaked as a pair of feet barreled around the corner of the table. So much chaos filled the air when those feet were in motion, and all at once would it end once Camille stopped. Scarlet was awestruck with how close this giant was, gawking up the long legs to where they disappeared behind the skirt. Anything above that was out of sight behind the desk.

Snatching Scarlet out of her trance was the strap of her purse flying up to the air, lifted away as Camille took the purse into her hands. “This is her’s, so…” Camille whispered to herself, her mouth agape as she slowly put together a conclusion. “... Maybe she bought a new one?”

Scarlet felt the want to bicker with Camille’s thought process, but she didn’t dare speak as she faced off with two beasts. Camille’s feet had only stomped closer to the leg of the desk Scarlet clung to and their presence imposed upon her. It was an odd sight, akin to something from a theme park. Two bare feet bigger than a bus and their flip-flops, footwear that had clearly been impressed into over the time they’ve been worn by this mammoth person. Atop these terrifying toes, however, was something cute. A fake flower of orange pedals decorated the strap of the flip-flop, as though they had bloomed from between her toes. But the way those very toes curled and grinded against one another, Scarlet had no delusions that something could grow there.

And it struck her then, I’m supposed to contact this thing…? All the shivers came to a standstill across Scarlet’s skin. The fear wasn’t depleted from her at all, but rather so intense that it froze her where she stood. Even if it was still Camille, a decent-enough person that Scarlet knew, the fact remained that it was like contacting an elephant for help. All of her nerves would need to be gathered just to reach out to Camille, and before she ends up leaving.

Scarlet huffed and then dashed forward. As she did, Camille’s right foot flung back several yards, resting on its point idly. The motion, so casual for the giant, put a sudden halt into Scarlet’s speed. She stumbled over herself, tripping over her own feet and collapsing forward. It wasn’t the hard floor she would land on; what caught her instead was a couch of toes that curled away from her in surprise.

Scarlet yelped, “Camille!” As she pushed herself up to get back onto her feet, hurriedly doing so to avoid embarrassment, so too was Camille reacting to the same situation. The touch didn’t go unnoticed, of course, and so the left foot jumped in response. Scarlet was carried away with it, her lower-half dangling off the flip-flop while she grappled with the strap to avoid being kicked off -- a true challenge.

Camille’s grimace was not the expression Scarlet hoped to see. The foul expression accurately represented her surprise and disgust to something clawing at her exposed foot, though she didn’t register what it was that touched her. She imagined it had to be a cockroach and responded appropriately, a gasp followed up with a startled squeal. “Get off me!” she yelled, a noise so loud that it shook Scarlet when she was already quite shaken enough.

“C-Calm down, Camille, it’s me! It’s Scarlet!” Scarlet shouted, her screams a pale contest to the volume the giantess beckoned with. She wanted Camille to notice her as the person she was, but already her nightmare of being mistaken for a bug was coming true. Despite pleading with Camille to remain calm, she was eventually rocked off the foot, left to fall back down harshly onto the floor.

The air had been knocked out of her, but adrenaline pushed Scarlet to squirm and twist to show signs of life. A dry gasp to call out for Camille was overpowered not by sound, but by a visual. A shadow fell over her, cast from above where the flat sole of a sandal was suspended. Before it could do anything to her, the reality was already crushing her heart; she was going to be stomped like an insect.

“Camille, no, Camille!” Scarlet cried, completely ignoring the jolt in her ribs when she yelled. “It’s me, it’s me…!”

The foot remained where it was, only hovering higher in preparation for a speedier kill. Yet it wasn’t storming down; Camille hesitated, but her shivering form wanted to commit. She bit her lip and looked down again, until finally she muttered the name of her sorority sister, “Scarlet…?”

Indeed it was her, but in no comfortable condition. She trembled on the ground helplessly, holding one hand up into the air as though it could possibly slow the giant foot’s descent. Beyond that, more obviously, was that this was Scarlet. Coiled underneath her foot, Camille was unmistaken that it was Scarlet.

The foot was cast aside, drawn back so that Camille could kneel down. Scarlet still lived in terror that she was to be stepped on, only until she peeked an eye open to notice that Camille was overwhelmingly near her. Perhaps just slightly scarier than the foot hanging above her was Camille having crouched so close to her, the gravity of her weight surrounding Scarlet. But undeniably, this was better. She was noticed, at last, and her heart had a new reason to drum rapidly.

“C-Camille…? I-It’s me…” Scarlet swallowed, still relying on that mantra. It was all her mind, lost in such hecticness, could come up with.

“Oh my god,” Camille awed. “It is Scarlet… Uh, am I high?”

“No, no no,” Scarlet shook her head, her brown hair whipped over her cheeks. “Th-This is real, Cammy! I’m-- I dunno, but somehow I just… I got like this! I shrank, a-and-- and I don’t know!”

“Yeah… This sounds weird, yeah,” Camille agreed. Scarlet’s shock was clearly not matched by her sister, who spoke rather calmly with her usual slow pace. This was consistent for her, the type to go with the flow, always late to ask questions. In some regards, this is the kind of mindset Scarlet most wanted when it came to being found; in other regards, Camille was far from ideal.

But it was all Scarlet had, and she was grateful with her life all the same. She scrambled to stand, but her knees cowered in a bend. Despite being back on her feet, Camille certainly felt no less big. “Weird… d-doesn’t even begin,” she said. “This is unreal. I mean, for fucks sake, y-you almost stepped on me!”

Camille winced with a twinge of guilt. “I-I didn’t mean to,” she said meekly. She scoffed, “I-It’s not even my fault! I didn’t think it was you!”

“Ugh, open your eyes, Cammy!” Scarlet motioned over herself. “Or do I seriously look like a bug to you?!”

“No…” Camille giggled, and she leaned forward more. “You look more like a doll, actually.” Two curious fingers then reached forward and pinched at Scarlet’s left arm, thin like a toothpick between them. As light as they were, it was just as easy to move the arm up into the air, even with Scarlet trying to pull out of the grip.

“Stop! Stop, Cammy, th-this isn’t funny!” Scarlet whined, using the other arm in an attempt to tug it out. There was no competition as Camille went on to lift Scarlet by that arm, so captivated with the situation that she didn’t acknowledge how serious of a struggle Scarlet was putting up. “Camille!”

“Eheh, sorry,” Camille giggled, though she still didn’t let go. “You’re right, this is crazy. It feels so real…”

“It is real! I told you!” Scarlet squealed. “Please! My arm hurts!”

“Oh.” Finally did Camille unpinch her fingers, but only after raising Scarlet up higher into the air. Scarlet imagined a deep free-fall, but she immediately collapsed backwards into the palm of another hand. Discomfort affected her immediately; her whole body, she acknowledged, was being touched and held by a single hand.

Scarlet turned to protest, but what greeted her was a personal view of Camille’s chest. She was held inches away from the wide rack, belittled by their immenseness. Among Omega Kappa, it was normal to tease Camille for having such large breasts, a treatment that she always endured. She was an underclassman, the newest recruit to the sorority, and so the harassment always got shrugged aside as orientation. But such hierarchy only worked against Scarlet now. It humiliated her more to not only be tiny in front of a giant underclassman, but to be adjacent to her breasts, each one large enough to blanket over a car.

“... Scarlet?” Camille tilted her head. She adjusted her top so that her breasts bounced into a more comfortable position, an idle action that was a performance for Scarlet. It was, at least, enough to snap Scarlet out of her trance, though her eyes still would dart to the exposed cleavage tall enough to swallow her.

“Okay, n-now… without moving too quickly… take me back to Omega Kappa.” Scarlet spoke stern and seriously, but she couldn’t meet Camille’s eyes with her own. “Give me to Charlie, and she can take me to… a doctor, or maybe a therapist. I don’t know, but she can--”

“But what about… the party?” Camille stood back up -- not taking Scarlet’s advice -- and shrugged a gesture to the duffel bag over her shoulder. “That’s what we came here for…”

Scarlet was on her hands and knees, a better position for balance but not without the feeling of submission. Her patience wore thin, “Camille! I told you what to do! Just do it!” Scarlet huffed, “I’m your senior! You do what I say!”

“Hmmm…” Camille thought about the situation, which concerned Scarlet. The last thing she wanted was for Camille to realize how irrelevant the hierarchy of the sorority was. She shivered in suspense, until eventually Camille nodded. “You’re right,” she said, “but you’re the one to blame if Charlie gets pissed…”

“Whatever! She can be pissed all she wants!” Scarlet laughed, but it was truthfully a worry of hers. Charlie had a temper, something all of Omega Kappa had to look out for. “This is a little more important than some shitty Halloween party, righ-- Ack!!” Two fingers hugged Scarlet at her waist and lifted her from the platform of a hand. There was no time to say anything else before she was deposited into a mesh pocket at the duffel bag’s side, put away like a thing.

The Omega Kappa house was only minutes from Anders Library, but the walk back was plenty of time for the night to completely settle in. Camille returned home when the porch was already lit aglow by its patio light. There had been no distractions or delays, but Scarlet squirmed as though she had been trapped for ages. She could hardly wait another second, even as the door creaked open and the sounds of blaring pop music could be heard. They were familiar sounds, but Scarlet didn’t feel at home.

The entry corridor lead to the lounge, the source of the music. The room served its purpose as a place for the sorority to relax, perhaps too well. The interior was once established and proud, the semi-circular room centered around a fireplace and wide enough for a variety of leisurely activities. Over the years, that pristine had dulled, and the messy lifestyle of the girls had taken over. Leftover trash lined the staircase up to the second floor, abandoned clothes were vaguely tossed towards one corner, and an arrangement for beer pong had dominated the billiard’s table. The scent of this waste was browbeaten by air freshener and perfumes, creating a smell that truly captured the identity of Omega Kappa. More than ever before, Scarlet detested that stench.

An extra long couch pushed against the wall had most of its length occupied by one of the sisters laying on her stomach. Her legs kicked idly behind her, bringing attention to the long socks and lack of pants. An oversized sleep shirt blanketed the freckled body so that nothing unsavory was exposed, a lazy choice of attire that was in theme with the frazzled black hair. Her interest never went to the opening of the front door, for she was addicted to her phone, tapping away at a game while bobbing her head to the music.

She would only be drawn out of her phone when the coffee table was slammed upon. Camille stood over it, having laid down the duffel bag in the one space free of trash. “I’m sick of lugging this thing around,” Camille entered with a complaint. She was glad to rid herself of the bag’s strap from her shoulder. “Vivian, can you watch Scarlet for me?”

“Huh?” Vivian only glanced over her back to see Camille. It was with a groan that she realized she was being spoken to, and so she reached for the stereo’s remote from off the floor. All at once, the music booming from the sound system was muted, as though all had fallen deaf. “What about Scarlet?”

“Can you watch her?” Camille was already walking to the staircase, so she pointed to the duffel bag’s pocket. “I need to go get Charlie…”

“Watch her?” Vivian rose a brow. “... Watch her do what?” She sat up and turned towards the duffel bag, realizing that Camille wasn’t going to elaborate. Her hand moved to the coffee table to set down the stereo remote, but instead of being placed gently, it dropped from hands in a shiver. Vivian’s eyes widened -- Scarlet was there, a tiny version of herself strapped into a mesh pocket.

Scarlet’s heart sank into the swirling pool that was her stomach. The trip back had been simple enough for Camille, but the rocking and swinging of the duffel bag had been sickening for Scarlet’s shrunken self. She had begged for Camille to move more consciously, but it had fallen on deaf ears. Now she lay weak in the mesh pocket, barely enough strength to remain hanging over its edge. The disease that plagued her would have to take a backseat, however, to the huge person sitting in front of her, whose eyes were flaring up with wonder and excitement.

“Scarlet?” Vivian giggled the name, covering her mouth too late to hide it. “Is this a prank? You look ridiculous, dude!”

“Yeah fuck you too,” Scarlet grunted, forcefully swallowing down the sickness still aching her. She had to if she wanted to claw her way out of the web of string that was the pocket, a task she accomplished without much grace. “Seriously, cut it with the jokes. I’m not in the mood, th-this is… this is serious.”

“Seriously fucking funny,” Vivian laughed unabashedly. It annoyed Scarlet to know that her typical attitude wasn’t going to change, even under such dire and abnormal circumstances. “Look at you! You look so weird! Can I touch you?”

“No! You cannot!” Scarlet growled, but her reply didn’t weigh anything to Vivian. An interested finger neared the shrunken student all the same, which she rejected with a firm push. “Get. Off.” But Vivian persisted, and the finger escaped Scarlet’s grip to start ruffling her hair. “Fucking stop!” Scarlet swiped at the hand and pulled away from her, backing up until she stepped into a soda can. It pushed back against her with a slosh.

“You’re not even bigger than my drink, dude!” Vivian chuckled, her finger inflicting shame with how it pointed down at Scarlet. Before Scarlet could retaliate, Vivian had retrieved her beverage, taking away the support the tiny woman leaned on. With its sudden absence, Scarlet stumbled backwards and onto her rear. Vivian laughed so hard that she couldn’t even sip her drink. “Whoops~”

Scarlet couldn’t even growl, her anger beyond mere frustration. Her body turned red; how could she be humiliated like this so callously, and by one of the girls that vowed to watch over one another? Of course, with a mental spat, Scarlet remembered that this was Omega Kappa, where the standards for a sorority couldn’t get lower. She breathed in an attempt to calm herself, but the loud crunch of a can disrupted that meditation. The next second, what looked like a totalled car was dropped right next to her -- that same soda can, post-Vivian.

Scarlet ticked her head in Vivian’s direction, a snide smile under her glare. “Real classy, Vivian,” she said. Vivian only responded with a half-muffled burp and another laugh. Scarlet rolled her eyes and proceeded to stand up. “Don’t act too concerned or anything! Keep trashing the place up, as if I’m not right here! Kick your feet up, shoot the shit, who gives a fuck!”

The tantrum amused Vivian and she didn’t disguise it at all. When given the opportunity, her smugness inspired her to follow Scarlet’s advice. “Sure~!”

A beast of black fabric rose up from beneath the table, startling Scarlet with its surprise entrance. The heel slammed hard into the wood, a boom accompanied by an uneasy rattling of all other things on the table being shaken. It was Vivian’s foot, demanding so much attention with just its presence. Before Scarlet could recover from a severe flinch, the other foot was kicked up as well, the same as the other, but swung over the previous foot for a less surprising impact.

“Ew! Ugh!” Scarlet gagged, reacting too late to cover her mouth before the scent of the socks reached her. She twisted away, only keeping her head turned back so she could burn a gaze into Vivian. “No one wants to see your nasty feet, Vivian! People eat off this table, dipshit!”

“Just doing what you said,” Vivian shrugged. She went the entire nine-yards in posing herself as totally relaxed; arms behind her head, leaned back in her seat, and of course, curling and uncurling her toes in exaggerated stretches. The fabric of her socks strained under these gestures, a sight only Scarlet could observe from her unique perspective.

“You’re such a bitch,” Scarlet said, her nose plugged.

“It’s just feet, dude!” Vivian laughed out loud. “You’re really this mad over a couple feet!”

“Of course I’m mad! L-Look at me, I could get fucking stepped on! And between you, Camille, and the one brain cell you share, that’s a fucking real possibility! Just… ugh!” With just one arm to spare from covering her face, she shoved into Vivian’s sole, despite how imposing the wall was. She hoped to at least nudge the foot or get a tickle out of Vivian, but her palm only pressed into the fabric and into the foot to no avail. She was nearly bounced back, but it would be the foot repositioning into the air that would make her quiver away.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t try to piss me off,” Vivian said, her voice having a stark lack of its past playfulness without forfeiting its edge. Her feet hugged Scarlet, clapping around her before she had time to retreat any further. Scarlet squeaked in pain, her body thriving about in a panic. “A lot worse could happen to you then just being stepped on!”

“I-I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry!” Scarlet begged between coughs. She could no longer ignore the scent of feet now that it literally enwrapped her. “Let me go! Please!”

But Vivian only pulled her off the table and into the air, where her struggling could be more closely appreciated. “You can’t even tell Camille what to do anymore, let alone me! Let me tell ya’, I could get used to you being like this.”

“Well don’t! You fuckin-- mmff!” Before a counter could be completed, Scarlet found herself strangled by an oppressive toe. By itself was it able to muzzle her entirely, and no amount of squirming could break free. Even when she begged, Scarlet couldn’t be heard, not past the sock and certainly not past the laughter raining down on her.

“Where is she?! Scarlet!!” A voice shot from upstairs with a tone that couldn’t be questioned. A voice that ended the game Vivian was playing immediately, and thus did Scarlet find herself dropped from the undone trap. She fell to the floor, fortunately from a height that did little damage other than imbalancing her. She found herself in a canyon between the table and the sofa, and the legs above her recoiled away as footsteps hammered down the stairs.

Scarlet knew who to expect, and that sent a shiver coursing across her body. Charlie was making her entrance from the second floor down to the lounge, and each step hit the ground heavier than the last. Unlike the slaps of Camille’s flip-flops, these footfalls were accentuated with the girth of boots, a reflection of the no-nonsense attitude of the woman that wore them. It was merciful only to an extent that the carpet absorbed much of the shock of these giant steps, but hardly did that quench any of Scarlet’s fears as the pair of feet pointed towards the sofa.

“Well, Camille?” Charlie asked. “Where is she?”

“I told you, she was in the bag,” Camille replied, following Charlie downstairs. She pointed to the table, “Over there.”

“I told you to quit fucking with me,” Charlie sighed. “You said she shrunk, but what the hell does that even mean?”

Vivian snorted, and Charlie’s gaze snapped right to her. Despite this, Vivian couldn’t stop herself. “You don’t know what shrunk means, Charlie?”

“I know what it means, smartass, but what does Camille mean? Jesus Christ, is everyone just out to piss me off today?” Charlie pinched the arc of her nose as she stepped closer to the table, unaware that who she was searching for was there at her feet.

“Yo, look out,” Vivian warned. A hand gesture to stop Charlie’s approach turned into a point, down at the floor between them. “Your stompers might end up crushing her if you’re not watching your step.”

Charlie’s fury no longer rose when she was pointed down. If this was a dumb joke, it was worth humoring just so she could unleash on Vivian. But it was no trick, for standing pitifully from the carpet was a tiny woman, gawking up at her like an onlooker would a god -- a chilling feeling that seemed to cool Charlie’s head if only for a moment.

Just as much as Charlie looked down upon Scarlet did Scarlet awe at the bolt of lightning that was in front of her. Two boots capable of flattening garbage trucks stared her down, leading up to a pair of skinny jeans tucked into them. On and on did Charlie’s body continue, not only in height, but in intimidation. She wore an open red jacket which exposed a gray shirt, and framing it together were long locks of jet black hair, not a style to them other than being straightened and parted. Truly Charlie didn’t look like the average sorority type, nor did she try, considering one ear was decorated with steel piercings.

The two were at a standoff, leaving Camille and Vivian tense where they were. Charlie was frozen stiff until a smile thawed from her lips, and then to the rest of her body. The rough posture she exhibited began to relax to a slight slouch, but as comfortable as she was, Scarlet only felt worse.

“Ch-Charlie… S-Something happened, at the library,” Scarlet explained. She had to be the one to break the silence. “And yes, this is real.”

“No shit… Camille wasn’t kidding…” Charlie’s voice was much quieter now, almost out of respect for the tiny being beneath her. “You really did shrink.”

“Yeah. I noticed,” Scarlet grumbled, hoping her size would keep her sarcasm on the downlow. “I need help, Charlie, a-and I don’t know what to do! Do you know anything about this?!”

Charlie crouched so that she sat on her haunches. The pose this struck wasn’t graceful, definitely not so from Scarlet’s angle. The tiny woman could practically feel the weight of the giantess on top of her, and Charlie was already a heavy person. The boots, the jacket, the musculature; “Man, I’d hate to be you,” she chortled. True to what she said, Charlie despised ever feeling small or looked down upon, and inversely, she loved to feel large, powerful, respected.

“I-I hate being me, too,” Scarlet nervously laughed, hoping her tone could sway Charlie more positively. “Right now, anyway. I j-just want to get back to normal, and h-honestly? I’m kinda freaking out, because this is… legit terrifying.”

Charlie smirked brighter, leaning her head into a palm. She was enjoying just having a conversation like this. “Huh? You scared of me? Are you scared of your sisters?” She giggled. “Sorority is all about trust. Shouldn’t you feel safe with us?”

Hell no, Scarlet kept to herself. “That’s… not exactly why I’m scared,” she said. “I-I feel better with you guys! F-For sure! But, can’t you or someone just take me to the hospital?”

“Mmm… I don’t know,” Charlie said, her words drawn out at Scarlet’s expense. “I’m starting to doubt that you really trust Omega Kappa… How about you just prove to me that you’re not actually scared?”

Scarlet shivered, a series of curses spiking her tongue. Her arms dropped to her side in dismay and she swallowed, “What do you want me to do?”

Charlie snickered. “Climb on my boot.” She tapped the right toe, highlighting how sturdy the leather was. With that same finger, she made a trail up the laces, showing off how much taller her footwear was compared to Scarlet’s entire being. “That’s not hard, right?”

“... Why?” Scarlet whined. “Why do I have to do this?”

“Probably best you just do it, dude,” Vivian chipped in. Scarlet looked straight up where Vivian’s face hung with an anticipating grin. Her feet slid over the couch’s edge and sat onto the carpet across from Charlie’s, effectively surrounding Scarlet. “Personally, I could think of way worse things to have you do…”

“That’s true,” Charlie reclaimed Scarlet’s attention, “I could be more creative--”

“Fine! You win! I’ll get on it, that’s all I have to do? I’ll get fucking on it.” Scarlet vented both her stresses and her worries. Confidence took over in the absence of both, and she boldly approached the toe of the boot. She touched it with one hand, then the other, mentally remarking on just how cold the material was. It forced her to hesitate, She really could do anything she wanted to me…

“It won’t bite,” Charlie joked. “I thought you were going to get on?”

“I-I am! Shut up…” Scarlet inhaled to gather herself, but doing so meant huffing in that leather smell. It was too late to not move, so Scarlet hopped up and swung her leg over the toe of the boot. The surface was slick, but the laces proved easy to latch onto, helping her climb up. She only situated herself so far, ending in a position where she was mounted backwards on the toe.

When Scarlet looked up for approval, all she saw in front of her was Charlie’s crotch, a wall of jeans that was just past the pair of boots. Instead, she looked back down at the black leather. “I-I trust you. See? Happy now?”

Charlie stood up to her full height. That motion alone spooked Scarlet, but the movement of the toes within the boot unsettled her even more, feeling the bump of them stretching. “Hm, not quite,” Charlie replied. “Maybe this will make me happier, though.”

Scarlet felt the air above her push her tight against the boot. She was moving, upwards and fast, and in the blur of all this happening, it didn’t register to her that this was a footstep. After rising quickly, just as fast did she feel herself plummeting. She screamed, her grip almost lost from the boot until she scrambled her arms into the laces. The boot landed with a quake-causing thud, and Scarlet’s body was thrown into the toe, a ripple of the shockwave traveling quickly up her frame.

“Ugh! Ch-Charlie! Let me off!” Scarlet cried, but then she was up in the air again, screaming anew. She begged to be put down safely, but her wish came as brutally as it did before; another slam, the boot hitting the floor even faster than before. Scarlet collapsed over the boot, but it wouldn’t be more than a second before she was tense once again, launched up into the air for another step.

All Charlie was doing was pacing around the lounge, yet she was having the most fun she had ever had. She giggled the entire time that Scarlet struggled to hold on, always on the verge of being kicked away -- something Charlie could decide to do at any moment, if she chose. So too did Vivian watch from the couch, leaning off of it so she could peer over the coffee table and better observe the show. Camille stood more passively than the others, but without a doubt did she have some interest in Scarlet’s predicament.

“She’s freaking out so bad,” Charlie teased. “Better keep holding on, Scarlet. You wouldn’t want to end up under one of these.”

“It looks like she’s riding a mechanical bull!” Vivian laughed. “We should be recording this!”

Charlie hummed in tune to that suggestion, but the thought wouldn’t go far. Scarlet could manage no longer, and after one more step, her body rolled off the toe of the boot. Charlie noticed and came to a stop, watching how Scarlet twisted and groaned. Her little body was exhausted from just those few steps, one whole circle around the lounge. Her legs twitched but couldn’t move. Not only were they sore from gripping the boot, but her thighs had developed a horrible chafe from grinding against the leather. If there was any relief to being off of Charlie’s boot, it wasn’t able to be cherished fully.

But she could still speak, and she had much to gripe about. While Charlie and Vivian laughed at her submission, an anger boiled over the top inside Scarlet. “Why the fuck are you doing this?!” she shouted, her breaths plenty and heavy. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Aw, are you gonna cry now, Scarlet?” Charlie snickered, kneeling closer to the shrunken woman. “We’re just playing with you, bitch. Settle down.”

“Yeah, you’d do the same shit to us,” Vivian added. “Probably.”

“See, Scarlet,” Charlie began, “it all comes back to trust. You trusted me to have you on my boot, you got on my boot, and nothin’ happened to you. Yesterday, I trusted you to get Anders Library prepared for us, you procrastinated, and somethin’ happened to you.”

“Oh, oh fuck off,” Scarlet sighed. She grew weary, and a tired arm was flung across her head. “Th-That isn’t fair! None of this is fair!”

“You’re right, it isn’t fair that Camille and Vivian have to set up for the party alone,” Charlie replied. “And it isn’t fair that we have to babysit you, either. But that’s what a sorority is all about, taking care of your sisters.”

Charlie reached down slowly for Scarlet, well aware of how her claw of a hand must look to her. Her nails were long and colored black and red, and they caged around Scarlet without even a fight. She was lifting off again, this time in the palm of her sorority president. In her grasp, Scarlet felt even tinier than usual.

“Wait,” Vivian interrupted, “were you serious about that part with me and Camille…?”

“Yes, I was serious!” Charlie snapped. “The party’s tomorrow, and Omega Kappa is not going to disappoint like we normally do. We’re not going to cancel our plans just because Scarlet here… shrunk or whatever.”

“... Lame.” Vivian rolled back into the couch.

“You’re really… thinking about that stupid party…?” Scarlet shook her head. She had wrangled her arms through Charlie’s fingers, pulling herself up as best as she could on the unsteady platform. “Please, Charlie… Just take me to a hospital. I-I’m sick! I need help!”

“Easy, runt. I will, I will.” But Charlie’s grin told another story. “Later,” she admitted with a giggle, “but you could be useful like this. I’m sure you can stay like this for, you know…a day.”

Scarlet blinked. “A day?!”

“Well, after tomorrow night. I’d hate if you had to miss the party because of this, after all.”