My arms and legs were bound tightly enough to a metal folding chair that I could not move.  Aside from me the concrete room was empty, with a single bare bulb dangling from the ceiling providing a spot of light.  I had been stuck like this for hours with no sign of my captors, my last memory of freedom the strong smell of chloroform.  The rope had rubbed my bare skin raw, and my muscles ached from being forced to hold the same position for so long.

I heard a metal door open, though I could not see who was coming.  The door clanged shut, and the slow, menacing click of high heels on pavement grew louder and closer.  My captor stepped into the light, and I recognized her as someone known as the Fox.  Her long black hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and her brown eyes were narrow and hard, complemented by a scar over a temple and through an eyebrow.  A leather duster was draped over her shoulders, showing just a little of her white blouse and tight blue jeans, went with her black high-heeled boots that came up to her knees.

“If you say you know why you’re here, it’ll save you a lot of trouble,” the Fox said, her voice as cold as her demeanor.  “Though I might be annoyed at you for taking away my fun.”

“I didn’t make that call!” I protested.  My voice was hoarse from lack of moisture, and I had sweat out most of the water in my system already.

“Of course you didn’t,” she replied.  “It was just someone calling from your phone, with your same voice, who identified themselves by your name.”  I stared up at her in shock and she chuckled.  “Cops aren’t the only ones who can tap phones, you know.  I hope it displeases you to know that your fit of squealing pushed a 20 million dollar deal back by two weeks.”

“My brother died from your shit,” I said, “it was the least I could do.”

“That really does break my heart,” she said, stepping closer to me.  “If that was you getting revenge for your brother, he must be quite disappointed with you.”  She put her hands on her knees and leaned in until our noses were almost touching.  “You did nothing, and soon you’ll be nothing.”

I knew she was going to kill me; it was just a matter of how long.  “Go ahead then, do it.  I know I’m not leaving here alive.”

The Fox laughed and stood, glareing down at me.  “How can you be so wrong so often?” she asked and reached into her pocket.  “I’m not going to kill you, though I doubt you’ll survive long.  Thanks to a happy accident at our refining facility I’ve got a much more appropriate way of dealing with people who want to be little rats like you.”  She withdrew her hand, and light gleamed off the tip of a large syringe filled with a light blue liquid.

She placed her free hand on my forehead, shoving my chin up.  There was a sharp, jabbing pain in my neck, then I felt liquid flowing into it.  When she finally withdrew the syringe from my neck and released me, I saw the plunger was completely depressed.  The Fox placed the empty syringe back in her pocket and produced a corked, half-filled vial of cocaine half the size of her pinky.  “You’ll be leaving in this.”

I was going to ask how, but the question was answered before I could open my mouth.  The ropes around me loosened, and the Fox began to grow before my eyes.  Though I could now move freely, I suspected I would not be going anywhere.  The ropes obscured my vision when my eyes slipped into my restraints, and my shirt fell inward and covered me.  Only a very narrow column of light reached me through the pile of ropes, filtered heavily through my shirt’s fabric until it was almost nothing.  In the darkness I could feel myself still getting smaller, though I had no idea what size I was now, nor how small I would get.

A loud thud, like an elephant hitting the ground, came from the side, and I wondered what could have caused that.  Several moments passed while my trepidation grew, then my shirt was yanked from on top of me with a great woosh and rush of air.  Wind battered me as my shirt was lifted away, knocking me to the ground, but thankfully did not push me around too much.  When it finally stopped, I was able to focus on the world again.

The chair looked like it was thousands of feet wide now, to the point where I could not see the edge because of the butt groove.  I did not need to see the front edge, however, since the Fox loomed enormously over it.  Her thighs looked wider than any building in existence, and I had to look up to even see her waist.  She seemed to keep going as I craned my neck back, looking for any end to her.  At last, I looked all the way up, and found that it was like trying to look at the peak of a mountain from the ground.

A low, guttural rumble came from her, making my insides tremble when it hit me.  It took a few moments for my brain to piece all the sensory input together and tell me that this was her laughing.  Another series of booms made the chair rattle and turned my stomach from its sheer force, and I realized that was human speech.  “Like the insignificant rat you are,” she said, then started laughing again.  There was nowhere I could run to escape it, and the sonic barrage came from all around.  My body was getting fatigued merely by the power of her voice.

She raised a foot, and I was in temporary awe that something so large could move that quickly.  It crashed down remarkably close to me, and nothing could have prepared me for the impact.  The most powerful tremor I had ever felt emanated from where her shoe hit metal, making every bone in my body shake.  My vision blurred as the force of it passed through me, and my knees went weak.  Next the sound hit, and the most tremendous bang imaginable rushed into my ears.  There was enough power that my whole body was overwhelmed, and I temporarily lost control of my body and fell forward.

I could not get up, but at my size I could not get far anyway.  The sole of her boot alone towered far overhead, surpassing the height of some skyscrapers, and that was even without counting the stiletto at the back.  She rotated her foot slightly, grinding it against the metal, and the toe of her shoe pushed my helpless body forward.  When I got too far for her to keep pushing, she pulled it over the metal seat until I was at the forward edge.  Several times I worried I would get dragged under and squished, but her foot was moving just slow enough to keep me from ending up beneath it.

When she had me where she wanted, she dropped her shoe from the chair and squatted.  Having her this close was somehow even more terrifying.  Her face was the only thing I could see, and every feature of it, no matter how minute, was imminently visible.  Every pore was the size of a foxhole, and each crack in her lips was a crevasse.  Her pupils, dilated by the darkness, seemed like they could swallow me whole, and her eyelashes were the length of city buses.

Fortunately she did not say anything, since I doubted I could withstand another barrage from her voice.  She simply lifted an atomizer to me, and with a single, quick pump discharged a cloud of particles.  The familiar smell of chloroform overwhelmed me, and a cloud overtook my mind.  The last thing I saw before passing out again was her finger soar over me, the ridges and trenches of her fingerprint like a landscape on their own, and gently push me toward an open glass vial.

Something was pressed against the glass from the outside, and once the cubes stopped tumbling I got a good look at it.  The enormous, peach-colored object had hundreds of minute lines running along it, with large, elliptical areas containing layered whorl patterns.  Despite rigidly pressing against the glass they looked soft, and the slight amount of pressure was flattening them.  It dawned on me that, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, these were fingers holding the glass vial I was trapped inside.

A loud pop echoed through the glass when the cork was yanked out, causing an audible rush of air into the vessel.  The fingers turned it a little past sideways, and I slid along the curved glass with a wave of white behind me.  I dropped from the ledge and fell from the vial’s neck onto a gigantic reflective surface.  An avalanche of white cubes followed me, crashing into each other hard enough that some of them cracked to pieces upon landing.  They rumbled over each other, finally settling in a large pile behind me.

Something horrific appeared in the reflection, and I looked up to see the full picture.  A gargantuan face had replaced the sky, looking down at the pile beside me.  Large glasses with black, round frames magnified dark brown eyes, and long brown hair was secured by something in the back.  It was hard to tell with such an intense size difference, but it looked feminine, with an oval shape, glistening pink lips, and a bulbous nose in the middle.

She sliced into the pile with an enormous thin wall clutched in her hand, just missing crushing me with it.  Her wrist moved the wall from side to side, separating the pile of cubes into two smaller ones.  They tumbled from the top while others were pushed up to replace them, and a loud scrape grated against my damaged ears each time it touched the surface.  It kept scraping, pushing cubes that got left behind into one of the two piles and pressing them together until only two narrow ridges remained.

The titaness brought a tube of rolled-up paper to one nostril and blocked the other with a finger, then leaned forward.  When the tube was at the edge of the other ridge she began inhaling, and the cubes rose from the mirror and into the tube, where they got sucked into her nose.  Her already-huge pupils dilated further and she took a moment to vigorously shake her head, making the few loose hairs she had swing wildly.  As I had feared, the white cubes that nearly smashed me were cocaine, and I had been mixed in with them.

She came back for another run, placing the paper tube at the base of my ridge, and I started running the other way.  A strong breeze worked against me as I tried to escape, and the wind got more powerful as its howl increased in volume.  It quickly reached a point where I could no longer resist it, and suction yanked me into the air from behind.  I was dragged into the dark, tightly-rolled paper tube, moving so fast there was not even time for me to deviate from the straight line path.

I was lighter than each grain of cocaine, and as we were sucked into her nose I smashed into them.  The cubes spun in the air, threatening to shred me if I got too close to their edges, and rebounded off the walls.  Fortunately, I only hit their flat surfaces, just enough to daze me with each collision.  It really was lucky: by the time I rammed into her mucous membrane I was barely conscious, and that was enough to put me back under.  Whether it was from suffocation or crossing her blood-brain barrier, I did not wake up.