Out of their Element

[littlest-lily]

@miss-lillipants You ask the right questions! haha

And thank you so much!! I hope I don’t disappoint~ (Especially when things take a bit of a turn…)

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 3
Aiden

I’m not usually one to panic about things. In fact I tend to pride myself on being able to stay calm in stressful situations. But the way this day is going, that’s starting to be put to the test.

I’ve worked with Dr. Little before, just once, a few days ago. He gave me the rundown of the machinery I’d be operating and let me assist in a couple of trial runs. It was amazing, getting to see the shrinking technology in person. At this point I’ve watched a chair, an apple, and even a rat become miniaturized, and quickly I was realizing that this wouldn’t just be me getting simple credits for a college class. I was getting to witness history in the making.

I’d found it pretty insane that I would not only get to be his assistant for some of the human trials, this one apparently being the fourth, but that it would literally just be me and him running the show today. Could something this monumental really be happening on my own university campus? Well, technically across the street from campus, but still. I’m just a grad student. A Geology major at that, I’m not even a physicist or biologist or engineer. I’m not sure how I qualified for this. But I was just excited to be a part of it.

And then… and then everything got weird.

Dr. Little hadn’t come across as a particularly easy-going person on the first day, but he was nice enough and seemed to enjoy my excitement as he showed me how everything worked. But ever since Evie stepped into this room he’s been a little more tense. More concentrated. That makes sense to a certain extent - this is a huge deal. Pun very much intended. But the more time is passing the more my superior is starting to come off as… sketchy.

Up until now, I’ve been distracted from it. Watching a person shrinking down in front of me was nothing short of mind-blowing. I tend to keep it to myself, but I’ve always been fascinated by this kind of thing, and now I got to watch this young woman - this cute classmate of mine, no less - dwindling down like an ice cube melting in a time-lapse.

The only thing dampening my enthusiasm was how scared Evie looked when I approached her. Her long chestnut hair was completely disheveled, her tiny limbs trembling, her shining brown doe-like eyes giving me an almost pleading look as tears ran down her face. Like I was telling her, it would make sense that she’d be so freaked out, no matter how much preparation she went through. I’m sure it really didn’t help that she was still affected by all the anesthetics that were necessary for the shrinking process.

But… I’m starting to realize that there may be more to her fear. Her little voice was hard to make out, but I know what I heard. The suspicions swirling inside of me are becoming impossible to ignore. I scan the counter to my left, finding the micrometer that Dr. Little requested, and as I cross the lab again to hand it to him, I muster the determination to pose the rather horrifying question.

“I have to ask,” I begin hesitantly, gesturing towards the frightened shrunken girl that my boss is currently holding aloft. “Was she not… informed of what was going to happen?”

Dr. Little, who’s been clearing off the counter with his free hand, pauses, giving me a hard look. “Of course she was. What gave you that idea?”

I shift uncomfortably but push forward. “Did you not hear what she said earlier?”

“I think you’re the one who might have misheard.” He’s not looking at me anymore, setting things up for the next phase of testing. “Her voice doesn’t exactly carry very well. I can assure you she’s well aware of what the experiment entails.”

Evie lets out a tiny whimper. Her voice is weak but she manages to push out a scream as she throws her head back, and to me what she says is as clear as day.

“He’s lying–!”

She’s cut off as Dr. Little shifts his thumb just then, pushing it up against her face and covering her mouth. She looks so small in his fingers, so fragile, and I wince at how casually he just did that. My temper flares.

“Hey,” I snap, dropping any pretense of being deferential, “Come on, don’t you think you’re being a little rough?”

Noticing my shift in tone, Dr. Little turns towards me with a haughty air. My heart rate speeds up as my eyes are still fixed on my classmate that he’s handling so carelessly. From the way he jerks her around I worry her neck might snap from the whiplash alone.

“I’m starting to think I made a mistake with you,” he snarls. “You know, the only reason I’m even needing an assistant is because I can’t operate the machinery on my own. I’m not paying you to share your opinions on how I conduct my work. She’s fine.”

“I… Sir, listen, clearly there’s been a mistake here,” I growl back, feigning diplomacy to try to give him an out, “Some kind of miscommunication. I’m sure it was an accident, but we shouldn’t keep going until it’s cleared up.”

“I can assure you, there’s no mistake. The girl’s still recovering from the drugs and isn’t thinking straight. That’s all.” His eyes narrow and there’s a heaviness to his tone, almost like he’s trying to give me an out this time. “And here I thought we were kindred spirits. I thought you might have appreciated this… particular study.”

He’s gotten agitated. I want to reach for Evie, to try and take her away from this man who’s one step away from actually injuring her, but any struggle that might follow could result in disaster. Even now his grip on her looks too tight. I pause, feeling tense and helpless, and put my open hands up in an attempt to pacify him.

“Okay… okay, just… Take it easy," I say, as calmly as I can.

Dr. Little gives me one last, long glare before returning his attention to his work space. I can tell he’s keeping an eye on me, though. My mind’s racing. How do I stop this?

And… did he just say kindred spirits? I suddenly feel exposed, wondering if he’s somehow gotten access to my internet search history. I’m starting to think that maybe there really was a reason I was selected to be his assistant. I’ve always been interested in things like fairies and shrink rays as far back as I can remember, and I’d fantasized about having my own tiny friend more times than I can count. As I got older, my interests matured right along with me. But regardless of what my personal… tastes may be, this is different. This is real life. This is a real girl who’s in real trouble right now. If he truly thought I’d be okay with him shrinking someone and running tests on them without consent, then he has me read completely wrong.

I try to mentally run through my options. My phone’s in a different room, with most of the rest of my stuff in a locker. There’s a landline here for emergencies, but it’s on the other side of the counter and very visible. Is there some kind of panic button or something in this room that can call security? Probably not. What about the tablet I’ve been working on, can I use it to contact someone? Might be worth a shot. But even if I call for help, if this guy literally has a hostage in the palm of his hand, how the hell can anyone do anything without risking her getting hurt?

And then suddenly he makes a mistake. He needs both hands to adjust the micrometer and puts Evie down on the counter for a second, dumping her unceremoniously into a heap. I can see her little body shaking as she valiantly tries to get up again, and it gives me the courage I need to surge forward, to take action, to throw my hands around the threat–

“What are you doing?” Dr. Little yells angrily as I grab him around the chest from behind, pinning his arms against his torso. I wrench him sideways, just trying to pull him away from the counter, away from Evie, and I’m attempting to twist myself around and put my body between him and her.

I don’t answer him, not having had time to really come up with a plan, and just try to hold my own as my boss is fighting back now. I’m only slightly taller than he is and it doesn’t really offer an advantage, nor do I actually know how to fight. But the struggle doesn’t last more than a few seconds… and then a lot more happens in a very short period of time.

He wrenches an arm free and grabs at me - there’s the sound of ripping fabric as buttons pop off my lab coat and he gets a good grip on my clothes, breaking my hold as he throws me off him. I stagger back, and he loses balance from his own shove, tripping and falling and his back rams into a counter. The counter that happens to be housing the power generator for the shrinking machine.

The power generator he had told me to stay far away from.

There’s a loud crash of metal and plastic, a flash of a spark, and just like that, without so much as a yell, Dr. Little’s body convulses, goes stiff, and crumples to the floor. I feel like I watch it in slow motion, my breath getting caught in my chest. The slow motion continues as the power generator, as big as a suitcase and knocked askew, teeters on the edge of the counter before crashing to the ground as well. Then, on the edge of the fallen scientist’s lab coat, a flame begins to bloom.

The sight of smoke snaps me to my senses and I dart for the nearest fire extinguisher. But while my instincts were correct, I’ve never used one of these before. It takes me a second to find the pin, giving the fire an opportunity to flare up and envelop the generator, and as I squeeze the handle, I realize too late that I’ve aimed for the flames and not for the source. The extinguisher empties and I’ve failed to take care of the problem.

I hesitate for a second longer, wondering if I should continue to fight the fire. But the flames are moving fast and have already jumped to two other pieces of machinery, causing them to spark and pop. The blaze is growing as smoke quickly fills the room.

I have to get out of here. And, I realize, I have to get Evie out of here too.

Hurrying over to the counter, I make eye contact with the tiny, terrified girl who’s just watched all of this unfold in massive proportions. She’s frozen in place, paralyzed by the cocktail of fear and anesthetics. Without saying anything I gather her into my hands, trying to be as careful as I can in my haste, and instinctively I hold her up to my chest, cupping her body against me with one hand so that I can keep the other one free. As I look back up towards the exit, Dr. Little’s briefcase somehow catches my attention, right next to us on the counter. I grab it. And bolt towards the door.

The blaze has spread so quickly in the room and I hear yells and alarm bells as I run through the building and smoke fills the air. People are rushing out, some of them panicking - a chemical lab is a terrible place for a fire to break out. I’m starting to cough before I reach the front door, breaching it and joining the group of people that has gathered just outside. I take a deep breath of clear air. My head is spinning as I remember my little passenger, and even as I try to put space between me and the burning building, I take a moment to look down, to tilt my hand back just a bit so that I can check on Evie.

Her miniscule fingers are clutching at the fabric of my half-torn lab coat, her eyes momentarily squinting against the sudden influx of light before they widen again. She looks like she’s wheezing and when she tries to say something she’s instead overtaken by a fit of coughs.

“Are you–” I start to say before someone bumps into me, a large crowd continuing to form. My voice would have been drowned out anyway as the sound of sirens fills the street from an approaching fire truck.

I can’t think straight. I can’t process what just happened. There’s too much chaos. I make a desperate decision in my panic. I live just off campus, a few minutes’ walk from here, and mechanically my legs start taking me in that direction. In just a couple of blocks things are quieter, and soon I’m hurrying into my apartment building and running up half a flight of stairs. Thankfully my keys are in my pocket, unlike my wallet and phone which are probably already burnt to a crisp in the lab’s locker.

Letting out a shaky exhale, my throat still itching from the smoke, I shut the door to my place and lean against it for a second. I hear the siren of a police car zooming by outside, and I just stand there, breathing hard.

But the trials aren’t over. I pull my hand away from my chest and my stomach sinks at the sight of Evie’s body lying limp in my palm. She’s unconscious.

“No no no no no no,” I mutter, dropping Dr. Little’s briefcase to the floor and hurrying over to the closest surface, the kitchen counter. I gently set the shrunken girl down on it as I try to take in the state of her. She’s still breathing, her little chest rising and sinking, but clearly the smoke must have affected her more than it did me as her breath comes out hoarse. And her face is too tiny for me to be completely sure… but I swear her lips have started to turn blue.

I hover over her for a moment, tenderly pushing against her shoulder and repeating her name, trying to get her to wake up. I want to call for an ambulance, but I don’t have a phone. I curse myself then for having headed back to my apartment instead of staying with the emergency vehicles. Despite her size, surely they’d be better equipped to help her than I am. Do I go back? Is there time? Would carrying her around just make things worse?

I almost decide to run out into the hall and start yelling for help in the hopes of finding a phone when I suddenly remember something. I leave my classmate on the counter, darting into my bedroom and beelining for the closet. In the back corner I find what I’m looking for. My dad has a lung condition and he keeps a ventilator kit here for whenever he comes to visit. It’s bulky and rather annoying to hold onto, but it may be the stroke of dumb luck that I need.

Fully aware that the clock is ticking, I hurry back to the kitchen, untangling the tubes coming out of the machine. Unlike the fire extinguisher, I’ve used this thing before - never in an emergency situation like this, but I know how to get oxygen flowing. I place the device next to Evie and set the transparent cup of the face mask over her entire body. A few button presses later the machine whirrs to life and I crouch down next to the counter, observing the tiny girl with bated breath.

Her chest continues to rise and fall weakly. As oxygen is pumped onto her, slowly – agonizingly slowly – her breathing starts to smooth out again and her skin gradually regains a healthier color. She’s still out cold but, from what I can tell, she’s stabilizing. I slouch against the counter with relief.

Minutes pass. Once I’m convinced that she’s alright, I have to step away for a second. Give myself a moment to breathe. I stumble over to the sink, running a hand over my forehead. Feeling the rubbery surface of latex against my face, I frown as I remember I’m still wearing gloves. I rip them off and toss them down forcefully before I lean over the sink, arms taught and letting my head hang loose. Desperately trying not to vomit as the magnitude of everything settles onto me. I take a tremulous breath in and let it out with a tense whisper.

“Fuck.”

[Olo]

@littlest-lily I really like the way you orient the reader to the action, enough detail to see what is going on but not so much as to slow everything down. Aiden’s interior narrative is complex and coherent, and Dr. Little’s reactions are plausible and not conveniently stupid. Aiden barely gets Evie out of there instead of being some sort of perfect action hero. He and Evie have a lot of discoveries ahead of them.

[littlest-lily]

@Olo I’m not very used to writing more action-y scenes but I still enjoy taking a stab at them! Our leads certainly have a lot to figure out…

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 4
Evie

I’m back at the bottom of the ocean. Head swimming. Maybe it’s better like this, in the dark and the calm… but despite myself I’m fighting to get my head above water. Fighting to get back to the surface.

I come to consciousness suddenly, violently. My eyes fly open and my body’s shaking, my teeth rattling together. I realize it’s because I’m freezing.

With a surge of adrenaline I bolt upright. The anesthetics have worn off, but I’m still so disoriented and I can’t remember what happened last. It had all been so horrifying. Not fully in control of myself, I’m scrambling backwards, my back quickly hitting a wall, and I frantically look around. I’m in some kind of transparent room with a domed ceiling, and it only takes me a second to know that everything beyond it, though I’ve never seen it before, is much bigger than it’s supposed to be.

The scream that has been desperate to get out of me is rushing to the surface, but even now it can’t quite escape as my throat sears with pain and I start coughing again instead. I startle as I see movement in the distance in response to the noise I’m making.

I hadn’t even noticed him there, he’d been standing so still, his back facing me. But as he turns around I take in the size of him and my body remembers all too well what it was like to be picked up by one of these titans, whipped around, pinned down, threatened—

The scream comes out in bouts, more like a shrill gasping noise that racks my body as I push back uselessly against the plastic wall, going into a panic.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay!” To my surprise, the giant’s not moving towards me but is retreating, stepping back while holding his hands up in as non-threatening a gesture as he can. I watch him, still taking in gasping breaths, though I manage to stop shouting. A part of my brain is trying to remind myself that Aiden hadn’t been the threat. Not intentionally at least. Aside from him being over a hundred feet tall, I could have woken up to far worse things.

We have a bit of an awkward stare off in the ensuing quiet. I’m still shivering profusely. He notices and finally takes a mindful breath in before speaking.

“You’re probably really cold. I’m going to take the mask off, alright? I’m not going to touch you.”

I don’t say anything and he responds by slowly stepping forward, causing me to tilt my head back as his towering form approaches. He reaches a hand out, and I absently note that it’s no longer in its blue glove, making it look not quite so alien. Still just as monstrously large, though. His arm crosses a vast distance and his fingertips touch down on the top of the plastic dome with a soft but reverberating thump. I cower nervously under the vaguely spider-like shape of his hand above me.

“Please don’t fall off the counter,” he says softly, lifting the dome away.

This helps. Warmer air envelops me and my violent shaking begins to abate, helping me calm down. I can see better without the plastic walls. The sight is sobering, to say the least… The sheer cliff of a refrigerator to my left. The plateaus of a stovetop to my right. A chasm in front of me, with the appropriately titled kitchen island across the gap. The skyscraper of a person.

“Where… is this?” I ask in an effort to make contact with the nearby giant.

Aiden frowns and leans his head forward. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

I clear my sore throat and try to up the volume. “Where are we?”

“Oh. We’re in my apartment. I wasn’t sure what to do, so… I brought you home. Um…” He looks tense and hesitant. “How much do you remember?”

I’m feeling pretty tense myself. Trying to have a conversation with someone a couple dozen times my height is really disorienting. As if I’m watching a movie in IMAX and the character on the screen suddenly starts addressing me.

“Uhh,” I say, trying to focus on what he’s asking me and thinking back. “The last thing I can think of is being outside and hearing some sort of siren? It was so loud…”

“Oh okay,” Aiden says as he nods, “You didn’t miss much then. I think you had taken in smoke and passed out so I tried to give you oxygen. Sorry, for whatever reason the air that comes out of that thing is really cold. How do you feel?”

I let out an incredulous huff. “How do I feel? I… Look at me! What did you do to me?”

I catch his subtle wince in response to this. I had meant a collective “you”, I wasn’t aiming to accuse Aiden directly. But he looks guilt-ridden nonetheless, staring at the floor for a second before his eyes meet mine again.

“Listen, I’m… I’m so sorry. I had no idea, I– I didn’t know…”

“You didn’t know?!”

“I thought that you were fully on board. I had no idea you were being tricked into this. It’s just… it’s all so messed up…”

I believe him, I don’t have any reason not to. But an apology isn’t very useful to me right now as I stand here at three inches tall. “Well now what?” I implore, “What do we do?”

Aiden’s voice is soft. Dejected. “I don’t know, Evie.”

Meanwhile I’m on the verge of screaming at him. “What do you mean? You were part of it, right? Is this going to wear off? How were you going to undo this?”

“He never showed me that part. He said he didn’t need help with it… conveniently.” Aiden leans against the kitchen island, bringing a hand up to his brow as he closes his eyes for a second. “Now I’m starting to see the red flags. I did think it was weird he wasn’t using the on-campus labs. Paying in cash instead of going through the school’s credit system. Insisting I don’t discuss anything involving the experiment with you beforehand. There was so much secrecy in general… I just don’t know why he would…”

He trails off, the unspoken question filling the space between us. I think back to my brief but vivid memory of my time in Dr. Little’s grasp. I remember the implication that he had plans for me tonight.

“I don’t think it was all just for the sake of science,” I say, breaking the quiet. I shudder at the memory of the violating touch. “I… I don’t think he was planning on restoring me.”

There’s another moment of silence as we both process this realization.

“Oh my god…” My voice is breaking. “Am I stuck like this?”

Maybe it’s because I’m on the verge of tears but Aiden’s sounding a little desperate as he tries to reassure me, taking a small step towards me. “I’m sure there’s a way. We’re going to figure this out.”

“How?? All that stuff burned down right? Dr. Little’s gone?” Suddenly I’m on my feet, still staring upwards at the giant and gesturing manically. “I’m screwed. Because of this stupid science experiment I’m royally fucked. How the hell are you planning to fix this?”

No answer comes. Aiden’s demeanor shifts, his eyes unfocusing as they drift to the floor and he starts to shut down. I’m having trouble reading his expression and suddenly feel a spark of anxiety.

What am I doing? Why am I antagonizing the one guy who’s on my side right now?

I have a desperate realization. I’m completely helpless. This smaller size has an infinite amount of implications. Everything I need to survive is so inaccessible. The world is full of dangers - I’ve already experienced that firsthand. Hell, if it wasn’t for this gigantic yet gracious man before me I would have been kidnapped or crushed or suffocated or burned to death.

I need him.

My heart is racing as I feel horrified with how I’ve just been yelling at him. Does that blank look on his face mean that he’s getting tired of my shit? I need to put myself in check. Now.

“Aiden…” I call out to him with a tremulous voice. "I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.’

With a blink his eyes flick back up to focus on me, and he frowns with confusion. “What? No, you have every right to be upset right now.”

He moves closer and slowly crouches down to be eye level with me. I shy away, taking a timid step back. My nerves feel raw, every little thing overwhelming me. But some of my growing fears are assuaged by his expression - he looks so concerned and sympathetic as he continues to speak softly.

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. I really am sorry, Evie.” He pauses as he contemplates. “I guess… the next step is to take you to a hospital. Or to the police. I’ll tell them what I know. We’ll find a way to help.”

The anxiety comes right back. “Wait,” I say reflexively, “I don’t… know about that.” Aiden all but cocks his head to the side, puzzled with my immediate reaction. I scramble to find an explanation, stumbling over my words. “Sorry, I just, I’m scared… Just like, the idea of this going public or anything… Maybe I… need a little… time.”

He frowns and I fidget nervously at the way he’s examining my face, but he doesn’t press the matter. “Okay. Sure, that’s fine.” He goes quite still, looking rather anxious himself. “To be perfectly honest, the idea of contacting the cops kinda freaks me out. Dr. Little, he… he’s dead… because of me…”

I’d almost forgotten about that. It hadn’t really seemed real, not to mention I’ve been so focused on my own problems. I feel a twinge of guilt. Aiden’s been so supportive when in reality he’s been having a rough day too. “It wasn’t your fault,” I say, “It was an accident… And you were just trying to help me.”

He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Right. I’ve done such a great job at that…” Then he sighs and shakes his head. “All of that should be the least of your worries, though. How about we contact your family at least?”

“I um… I don’t really have any, to speak of.” I’m starting to feel very self-conscious as I continue shutting down his suggestions.

He looks perplexed again but continues to not pry. “A friend then?”

And now I’m the one gazing towards the floor - or in my case, the counter. “This is my first semester… I just moved here a few weeks ago, I don’t really know anyone yet…”

Realization hits me like a lightning bolt.

“That’s why.” I stare at my feet a moment longer. Then I look up at Aiden, my eyes wide as I meet his gaze. “That’s why he picked me. He picked someone that… that no one would miss if they disappeared.”

We stare at each other, neither one of us knowing what to say. Eventually the giant’s figure goes blurry from my own tears and I wipe them away, covering my face, trying to suppress the sobs that are threatening to break out. It’s all too much to handle. I’d finally been able to set out on my own for a better life, for a new beginning. But the universe had other plans for me… This change in perspective isn’t exactly the fresh start that I had in mind.

“Would you be okay staying with me then?”

I need to stop startling so easily every time he talks. His suggestion takes me by surprise too. I lower my arms as I look back up at him and dare to hope.

“Just for a little bit,” he adds, looking rather embarrassed.

“I-Is that alright?” I ask breathlessly.

Aiden smiles. “I warn you, I have no idea what I’m doing. But you’re more than welcome to stay here while we figure this out.”

I nod, taking a deep breath in. I don’t have a choice. “Yes. I’ll take you up on that… Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He starts standing back up again and I manage not to jump at the movement this time - I’m beginning to notice subtle cues from the way his oversized body moves. I have a long, long way to go to getting accustomed to my stature, but it seems I’m slowly making progress.

Aiden looks out towards the rest of his apartment, scanning the area while he contemplates. Meanwhile I continue to observe him, becoming more fascinated as the fear begins to recede. He looks like he should be made of stone and metal, not flesh and blood. It feels so humbling, staring up the length of him like this.

“First things first,” he says, turning back my way, “I don’t know if the kitchen counter’s the safest place for you to hang out. If you’re okay with it, let’s find a better base of operations… Can I, uh, offer you a ride?”

It’s just like before, his hand appearing from over the horizon to lay on the counter in front of me. Except I’m in control of my own body this time. I spend a moment taking in the sight of it and letting my nerves settle while Aiden waits patiently. To the point that I start feeling awkward about how long I stand there staring.

“Sorry,” I say, “I just need a second.”

“I understand, take your time. I can find a different way maybe… Like get a tray or something and carry you on that?”

“No, it’s okay, I can do this,” I say, conscious of the warmth in my cheeks as I’m embarrassed to be struggling with something so simple. If I’m going to be stuck like this for any length of time I will probably need to get used to being carried. I force myself to reach out and just touch the damn thing, settling my hands onto his skin.

I’m still feeling really cold from my time under the mask, and the giant’s warmth is unexpectedly pleasant. I suddenly feel the urge to huddle against the side of his hand and use it as a space heater. There’s also something about touching him like this that just really hammers in the fact that this building of a man is actually alive. So weird.

Having taken this first step I find it easier to follow the momentum, leaning forward to put one knee up on his palm and then the other. All of my limbs are a little shaky as I can’t help but feel nervous about the upcoming ride with no harness or safety rails. I’m not particularly afraid of heights, but I think anyone would be afraid of this.

Aiden’s been nothing but kind to me, but… God, please don’t let him be clumsy.

[Olo]

@littlest-lily I simply love hearing Evie’s inner monologue as she grapples with her new circumstances. That moment just before she puts herself in his hand, I want it to last forever.

[littlest-lily]

@Olo Poor girl’s just a wee bit overstimulated

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 5
Aiden

This. Is. Crazy.

I hope Evie can’t tell just how freaked out I actually am. I’ve probably had more adrenaline pumped into me in the last hour than in the entire past year combined. I can’t even begin to unpack Dr. Little’s death and the part I played in it. Not to mention the predicament of my shrunken classmate who I’m holding in my hand like she’s a goddamn hamster. But I know that all pales in comparison to what this poor girl just went through. She looks so lost and afraid and I feel a sense of responsibility to keep it together in her stead.

But then again. The experience of having her willingly climb onto my hand is… something else.

I’m not wearing gloves this time so I can feel the tiny tickle of her fingers as she hesitantly reaches her arms out and touches me. I can sense the weight and temperature of her body as she clambers aboard. I can tell she’s trembling as she crawls away from the edges and kneels in the middle of my palm. Despite a part of me feeling incredibly stressed about the whole thing, another part of me is just as enchanted now as I was the first time I picked her up.

I gently lift her off the counter and it’s like holding a little bird, she’s so light and delicate and… and adorable. I feel a wave of guilt at having any kind of positive emotion from this when Evie still seems so freaked out. I slip my other hand under the first, cupping my fingers around her protectively.

“Is this okay?” I ask, trying to keep my hands as steady as I can. “You good?”

She’s looking a bit pale and is clearly trying to not look down. But after a moment of pause she glances up at me, tilting her neck back. “I’m good… Don’t drop me please.” And she actually manages a weak smile.

Maybe that was some feeble attempt at joking around, but I think it might be best to respond with sincerity right now. “I won’t. I’ve got you. So uh… I’ll give you a tour? You’ve already seen the kitchen. Right past here’s the living room…”

Holding Evie up near chest level, I begin slowly making my way around the apartment. The kitchen and living make up one big open area, with a couch and ottoman to one side, a desk near the window, a small bookshelf beside it. Coming off to the right side of the room is a nook containing a washer-dryer unit, with a door to my bedroom on one side and one to the bathroom on the other. My place isn’t particularly huge, but for her I’m sure it’s a very different story.

I keep glancing down at the tiny girl in my hands, trying really hard not to stare excessively. Thankfully she’s too busy looking around wide-eyed at everything to seemingly notice. It’s all feeling so surreal, like a very bizarre dream. I try to remember seeing her in class, back when she was just average human height.

She always sat by herself towards the back, though that didn’t keep her from looking attentive. I’d thought before of sitting next to her, not sure if she was shy or just preferred being on her own. Every once in a while I’d notice someone else talk to her, and she always seemed really friendly despite keeping to herself. But I already had a friend in the class and never got around to approaching her. She’d rarely linger after the lesson either, just pick up her things and march out of the classroom with a confident stride.

It’s so difficult to accept that this tiny person I’m holding is the same young woman I’d see in class… All the details just as I remember them but in miniature…

“You might wonder why I even have a desk in the other room since I clearly do all my homework in here,” I say as lightheartedly as I can when we get to the bedroom that’s littered with papers and textbooks. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

That’s how I end my very short tour of the place. Evie hasn’t said a word during the entire thing and honestly things are feeling pretty awkward. Neither one of us knows how to handle the situation.

I’m having a hard time imagining what the coming days are going to look like. Even though she seemed so hesitant to get outside help - and I can understand why facing all of that might be intimidating - we’re going to need to do it eventually if we want to try and restore her, right? Assuming I don’t have a police officer show up at my door first because it was on record that I was in the room that caught fire.

I don’t know how long it’ll be until we face the outside world. But I figure at the very least we should take the rest of the afternoon to try to settle our nerves and form some kind of plan.

“So… I’m trying to think through how we want to do this,” I say as I step back into the living room, “I don’t want to just leave you stranded up somewhere, but I also don’t want to put you on the floor, that doesn’t seem safe. Or sanitary.” I should really give this place a good clean.

Evie says something quietly, too quiet for me to make out. Without thinking, I reflexively lift her up higher to hear her better, causing her to recoil and give me a fearful look. “Sorry,” I wince, pulling her back farther from my face again.

Good going, Aiden. Let’s just continue to traumatize her why don’t we.

“It’s hard to hear you sometimes,” I try to explain.

“N-no, it’s okay,” she says, projecting a little more. “Um, I was just agreeing… on maybe not the floor… But I mean, anywhere’s fine.”

“Okay, well… How about I set you on the ottoman for now? I’m just nervous putting you anywhere too high up.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I make my way over to the nearby couch and begin to lower myself to the floor, which should be a simple maneuver and yet I feel a wave of anxiety as I do it… I’m so conscious of every little movement I’m making at this point. Once I’m kneeling down I shift both hands up to rest on the gray, rectangular ottoman in question. It’s not very big, maybe one by two feet, but again for Evie I’m sure it’s a very different experience. She crawls back off my hand, the tickling of it making my heart skip a beat, and I actually feel a little sad about how relieved she looks to be off of me and on more stable ground.

She gets to her feet and has to hold her arms out to maintain her balance on the plush fabric, making me second guess myself at the choice of furniture to put her on. Although her trying not to fall over like this is also really cute…

Stop. Staring. I tell myself, looking off to the side for a second. I really need to focus.

“C-can I get you anything?” I finally say, turning back to her. “Some water maybe?”

Evie has given up on trying to walk at this point and just sits on the ottoman cross-legged. “Actually, yeah. That would be great,” she says, remembering to speak up this time.

I head back to the kitchen, feeling admittedly nervous about leaving her by herself even if she’s still within my sights. Without even thinking I grab a glass from one of the cabinets and am about to fill it before it hits me that she can’t use it. Right. Smaller cup.

I start looking through the other cabinets and drawers for something I can use and instead I’m realizing just how many other things are no longer going to work either - forks, knives, plates… And it’s going to go beyond that. If she stays with me past today, where will she sleep? What will she wear? How will she bathe or brush her teeth or go to the bathroom? What about her belongings, wherever she was living before? What about her classes? Or the thousand other concerns I’m not even thinking about right now? My head is already spinning and I haven’t even been able to get her a simple glass of water.

I take a deep, steadying breath. My brain is scattered and keeps trying to take on too much at once. I need to focus on what’s right in front of me. Like… this measuring spoon. Yeah, this could work, actually.

I fill the teaspoon with a few drops of water and start heading back when I notice something else right in front of me. I’d forgotten about Dr. Little’s bag, laying on the floor by the front door. Hold on. What if there’s an antidote or something in here?!

Suddenly a man on a mission, I grab the briefcase and come back into the living room where Evie’s waiting patiently right where I left her. She notices the intent look on my face and seems a bit unnerved by it.

“Is everything okay?” she asks as I kneel on the floor and put the bag down.

I carefully set the measuring spoon onto the ottoman as I explain, “I just remembered, I grabbed this on the way out of the lab, it’s some of Dr. Little’s stuff…”

I zip open the briefcase, laying it out on the ground and taking in the array of stuff inside. Evie’s interest is piqued and she forgets about the water, scooting over to the edge of the ottoman to watch.

Trying not to rush, I go through everything in turn. There’s an unsettling amount of syringes, filled with what’s clearly labeled to be a variety of sedatives. There’s a small contraption of some kind, a metal box that looks to be the right size for Evie to fit inside. A carrying case maybe? Though when I pick it up there’s a slight sloshing sound that seems to be coming from its walls - I’m not sure what to make of it and just set it on the ottoman near my little classmate. There are a few tiny outfits that look more like hospital gowns. There’s also a ziplock bag with a huge variety of miniature items, too small and too numerous for me to make sense of right away, and I put these on the ottoman too.

I don’t see anything that is an obvious cure for being shrunk. I really shouldn’t be surprised, especially with all the machinery it took to reduce things down in the first place, but it’s disappointing nonetheless. There is a journal, though, and I pick this up last. Evie’s watching me intently as I take a quick glance through.

“Looks like it’s some of his notes,” I tell her as I flip the pages, “I’ll see if I can find any clues in here…”

“Alright. I’ll look through some of this other stuff.” She’s already struggling to access the ziplock bag, and I’m about to reach over to help when she finally pries it open.

“Is that a toothbrush?” I ask, leaning in to squint at the first thing she pulls out.

“Looks like he was really prepared for… something,” she adds with a grim tone.

“Well, at least some of this might help us in the short run,” I say as I get up to sit on the couch, notebook in hand. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

And this is how we spend the next part of the afternoon. At first there’s lingering tension in the air, the both of us still recovering from all of the previous excitement. But as the minutes eventually become hours in the relative quiet, we’re finally beginning to relax somewhat.

These notes were definitely not anything official, and they’re really hard to decipher. Some pages he just used as scratch paper, littering them with equations and nonsensical thoughts. At some point the focus switches to the experiments he ran, just offhanded observations on the large variety of items that he shrank down. I’m thinking most of the items that Evie is going through are the results of said experiments.

I still can’t help occasionally glancing at the shrunken girl before me. I tell myself that I’m just watching over her, making sure she’s safe up on her perch. But I can’t deny the fluttering in my stomach whenever I look over. I just want to observe every detail… Her industrious mannerisms as she parses through the miniatures. The way she has to scoop water into her hands to take a drink from the measuring spoon. The expressions on her little face, overwhelmed but also quite focused on the task at hand. Everything about her is just so tiny and cute and… enticing.

Focus, I tell myself, every time.

At one point, I come across something in the journal that at least looks familiar - a sketch of a schematic with some notes on how it works. I realize it matches the little metal box that had been in the bag too.

“So…” I interrupt the silence as quietly as I can but still manage to make Evie flinch. “Apparently this thing’s supposed to be a miniature bathroom,” I say, pointing at the box that’s still on the ottoman.

She stands to approach the chamber curiously and I lean in as well. There’s a door in the front that she pulls open, cautiously taking a step to peer inside. I don’t quite see what she’s doing as she carefully explores the apparatus, but suddenly there’s a whooshing sound from within. It only lasts a second or two and it’s not very loud, to me at least, but it makes her yell and suddenly pull her arm back, taking several fearful steps in reverse.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Y-yes. That’ll take some getting used to,” she answers, staring at her new bathroom. “Still…” she adds with a weak attempt at laughter, “Better than trying to use a normal toilet I guess.”

That’s true. One less item on our very, very long list of things to worry about. The fact that this device even exists is a little disconcerting, though. Hammering in the fact that Evie would not have been restored to her normal stature anytime soon.

I take a second to glance at what she’s been working on, sorting all of these tiny items into sections, lined up neatly in each group. I’m recognizing things from what I’ve been seeing in the notebook - plastic bottles, various fruit, a towel, a basketball, I even notice the chair that I had personally seen shrink down. They’re not all tailored to her size, a strange amalgamation of items at all different scales.

Evie notices where I’m looking and addresses me, “I do think there’s some stuff here that might come in handy, but most of it’s so random. I’m guessing this was all of the earlier experiments? Not sure if this is any kind of clue, but it looks like most of it’s made of wood or cloth or plastic.”

“Right, so I do know a little bit on how the machine worked…” I say, at this point looking for any excuse to talk to her and escape the cramped handwriting of Dr. Little’s pen. “It used some sort of solution that he vaporized into a gas. That’s what would alter the size of the subject topically.”

“Topically?” She looks up at me with a furrowed brow. “I figured it was whatever I was breathing in there, but it worked by touch?”

“Yeah, that’s how your clothes got smaller too. It doesn’t affect metal or glass, though, which is what the testing chamber was made of.”

“That explains why I couldn’t wear jewelry or anything metal…”

“Yup,” I say with a nod. It somehow feels productive to tell her the little that I know about the technology behind this. But it’s not. I’m not really doing anything to solve the problem, since it’s not like I actually understand how any of this works.

We return to our tasks - I dog-ear the page about the mini bathroom so that I can refer back to how it works later, and then I go back to squinting at the messy handwriting. Time continues to drag and I’m not finding anything else that’s particularly relevant in the notebook.

That is, until I reach the end of it. Then I find way more than I had bargained for.

[Olo]

@littlest-lily Aiden is properly freaked out (and enchanted). I like how neither of them has a ready plan of action for this absurdly unforeseeable circumstance, but they are both mature enough to allow each other and themselves to have inconvenient and unhelpful emotions.

As someone who has had to improvise toilet facilities for hamster-sized women on multiple occasions, I am very intrigued by Dr. Little’s contraption, not least because I have no firm idea of what kind of life he anticipated for Evie (or whomever ended up being his test subject).

[littlest-lily]

@Olo As much as we’re all into this fantasy, I think we can agree that if it actually happened we’d all be a little freaked out (And did I decide to write in a super convenient and discreet way for her to go the bathroom because I didn’t want to deal with that challenge? Yes. Yes I did lol.)

[subasubaski]

I love your writing you’ve got a really well developed voice and a great imagination when it comes to SW stuff.

[littlest-lily]

@subasubaski Ahhh thank you so much, that warms my heart! Writing feels like therapy for me sometimes, it’s just such a nice creative outlet.

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 6
Aiden

I stare at the next page in the journal, the title at the top immediately catching my attention: “Human Trials.” Something about seeing that on paper gives me a horrible sinking sensation in my stomach.

There are a few separate entries, each of them quite lengthy. It looks like Dr. Little wasn’t lying about the fact that Evie was the fourth test subject. There are paragraphs of notes about the other three, detailing not so much measurements and data but qualitative information - how they behaved and reacted. I notice that all of them were women. As I continue to read… I really start to feel sick.

He would take them back to his home for “extended study.” But I’m not even sure he cared so much about actually studying much of anything; the types of experiments he documented didn’t seem to be about scientific research. Things like seeing how they’d react to extreme hot or cold, or being tied up for hours at a time. He doesn’t go into all of the details in his notes, but the further I delve the more it sounds like the experiments were actually more like… punishments. As if he was training them, somehow, like they were animals to domesticate. He’d go on about their beauty and… my brain starts to fill in the gaps. I don’t think the fact that Evie’s really pretty is a coincidence.

I try not to linger too long on any one sentence, just pushing through as I desperately hope to find some indication of him restoring these girls. But what I find instead is far more horrifying.

The first of them didn’t make it through a “stress test.”

The second ended up jumping off a table while his back was turned.

The third had never stopped shrinking.

My hands are trembling as I keep reading. All of the test trials had gone through some sort of issue where the machinery didn’t work quite right, resulting in each of the subjects not reaching the target size for the test, particularly so for the third. Dr. Little rants about this for a couple of paragraphs, venting his frustration in stilted lines on the page, about the complexities of the shrinking process for humans being too much to juggle on his own in the lab. At the bottom, in capital letters, underlined twice, he wrote “NEED ASSISTANT.”

I worry I might actually throw up. With shaky fingers I shut the book quietly and try to take a deep breath. After more than two hours of sitting here, the sun starting to set outside, I’ve reached the end of the notes with nothing to show for it. I’m shocked at the horrors that I was unknowingly going to be complicit to, and I’m completely losing hope.

It’s at this point that I look back towards the ottoman, expecting to see my classmate meticulously working as usual. But instead I see hundreds of miniscule items, fully categorized into rows and groups, a perfectly organized display… but the girl who’s sorted them is off to the side, sitting with her back to me. Head in her hands. Her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs that are too quiet for me to hear.

It’s been a long, stressful, life-changing kind of day. I think about the other victims of the shrinking process. What could have potentially happened if Dr. Little got his way with Evie today. And then, even though I hardly know this girl, I feel a sudden surge of emotion. A desperate desire to protect her from all harm.

I move instinctively, sliding off of the couch to the floor while trying not to make any sudden or frightening motions. She hears me and her shoulders tense - I think she tries to stop herself from crying as she continues to hide her face. But try as she might, her breathing is still coming in shallow. She just can’t keep her emotions at bay anymore.

“Hey…” I say softly, my chest tight, “You’re not alone, okay? I’m here to help however I can.”

I wish I could tell her how. I wish I could fix this, or at least take her hand or give her a hug or… or something. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this helpless in my life. I do the only thing I can think of and reach a hand over to gently brush a finger against her back.

For a moment she stiffens at my touch and I worry that I’m making things worse yet again. But then she turns, still keeping her gaze away from mine, and presses up against me, burying her face into my fingers, and she begins to sob in earnest. This sets my heart racing. I’m not sure what else to do so I just let her cry it out, using my thumb now to carefully rub up and down her back.

After a couple of minutes, Evie starts calming down, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She finally looks up at me and musters a smile. “Thanks,” she says, and she’s still so quiet, but my ears are getting better at honing in on her little voice.

“Don’t mention it,” I say, weakly smiling back. “Maybe we should call it a night soon… Are you hungry?”

“Not really. I’m just so tired…” She rubs at her eyes and lets out a sigh. “But I should probably eat something. Any luck with the notebook?"

“Um… not yet,” I say, evading the question. Now doesn’t seem like the best time to give her the details I’ve found. “I’ll go grab some food for you. Is cheese and deli meat okay?”

“Sounds good. I’m not picky.”

I go back to the kitchen to make a simple sandwich - ham, cheese, avocado. I pinch a tiny piece of it off for her, though it’s probably still bigger than her entire head. I stare at it and don’t love how rough it looks, like I just ripped off some leftovers to feed to a dog, so I take a few extra seconds to lay the mini-sandwich on a cutting board and use a knife to trim off the jagged edges. It doesn’t exactly look beautiful in the end but it’s a bit neater at least. I lay the food on a spoon in lieu of a plate and get some more water for her while I’m at it.

Evie thanks me as I set these down in front of her, and she’s stifling a yawn. She appears less upset now, at least, but definitely super fatigued.

“Yeah, you look tuckered out,” I observe with a sympathetic smile. “Want to go ahead and turn in early?”

She’s reaching past the lip of the spoon to pull off some bread and nibble at it as she stares off into space. “I don’t think my body’s going to give me much of a choice. I feel like I could pass out at any minute… again.”

“Um, let’s try to avoid you fainting this time, please.”

I watch her for a moment, a little amused at how she’s eating - instead of attempting to bite into the oversized sandwich she’s just picking off tiny bits of ham and cheese and bread as separate components, holding a crumb in both hands as she takes small bites. Like a mouse with a millet seed. She has to be actively trying to be this cute, right?

Trying to reel myself in and avoid gawking at her again, I turn my mind to next steps. It’s not even 7pm yet, but clearly we need to get this girl some sleep.

"I’ll go change out the bed sheets real quick and I can bring you over there whenever you’re ready,” I suggest.

Evie lifts her head and cocks it to the side at me, slowly processing. “…You’re offering me your bed.”

"Yeah, I can sleep here on the couch. No big deal.”

"Aiden, no, you don’t have to do that. That seems a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? With me like this?”

"Just because you’re little doesn’t mean you’re not a guest.”

She actually lets out a laugh now and okay, true, the mental image of her in a vastly oversized bed is pretty silly. It does feel good to see her smile, though.

“No, really, it’s okay,” she insists, “I think part of the reason I’m so tired is because this kind of already feels like a giant mattress… I’ll be fine here. Honestly anything bigger would probably be too overwhelming.”

“Oh. Yeah okay, I could see that.” I ponder for a second and add, “Well, I’ll at least find you something to use as a blanket… I’ll be right back."

That insistent part of me that I keep trying to push away feels a little disappointed that I don’t get to pick her up again. But I’m determined to at least do what I can to make her comfortable. I go to my bedroom and look around in the closet for anything that can work. Blankets, pillow cases, shirts - everything’s way too big. I start going through my dresser drawers, and for a moment I consider a sock since it’s at least a somewhat more appropriate size. But even though they’re clean there’s something about it that just seems gross.

I come across a well-worn T-shirt that I haven’t used in a while since it has a couple of holes in it. It’s pretty soft, though… I should probably be getting rid of it anyway, maybe now I can salvage something.

On top of the dresser are some of my office supplies that have congregated, including a pair of scissors, and I set to work cutting into the shirt. I got this from some kind of volunteer event and there’s a little logo on it in the shape of a dog… I let that adorn the bottom of this makeshift blanket, making me smile as I imagine her snuggling underneath.

I cut another strip of the fabric to fold a couple of times into a small rectangle to offer as a rudimentary pillow. I’m finding myself wishing I could sew and wonder what other little things I could make for her… assuming she’ll be staying here for any length of time, that is.

When I come back to the living room, I worry for a second that Evie really has passed out. She’s slumped onto the side of the spoon, and it looks like she’s hardly made a dent in the sandwich before giving up. She twitches at the sound of my footsteps coming in, sleepily lifting her head back up to watch me, her body tensing at my approach.

I crouch down beside her for the last time that night, setting her makeshift pillow down next to where she’s sitting, and she immediately turns to collapse onto it. I smile and get the sweet moment I’d been secretly hoping for, carefully draping the blanket I’d made over her tiny frame. I refrain from trying to tuck her in, though, too afraid of squishing her.

“I’ll leave a light on in case you need to get up at night,” I mutter, and then I see I’m losing her fast so I quickly add, “If you need anything, let me know with this.”

I set down something I’d picked up from my bedroom, a visual countdown timer that I use for studying. It’s about as tall as she is and the knob in the center should be small enough for her to maneuver without issue.

“Just turn the timer on and off and it’ll beep. I’m a light sleeper, it’ll definitely wake me up.”

Evie gazes up at me and for a second I worry she’s about to start crying again. Am I overwhelming her with too much stuff? I really need to just leave and let her sleep. But she pulls it together and forces a smile my way.

“Thank you.”

I nod and start backing off. “No problem. Good night, Evie.”

I turn on the desk lamp and turn off the overhead light, walking away as quietly as I can. Just before going into my room, I pause. I stare at the ottoman, the minuscule figure laying on it, already curled up on her side and visibly unconscious. I really don’t like leaving her by herself.

An image pops into my brain, unbidden. Her little form curled up on me instead, snoozing away on my chest as I drift off to sleep– And I’m so mortified by the thought that I immediately turn on my heel and march straight into my room.

I spend the rest of the evening on my laptop, trying to find any scrap of information that I can about the scientist responsible for all this. Google gives me nothing. I dig into all of the school records and he never actually had an association with the university, all of that was faked. So was the sponsor company he said he’d worked with. When searching the room reservations for the chemical lab we were at, I’m shocked to find his name but literally no other information. There’s no record of me being there, nor Evie, nor any of the other victims for that matter. The secrecy behind this whole thing is far more extensive than I’d realized. I feel like all I’m doing is running into dead ends.

And even when I eventually try to sleep, it doesn’t come easily. Images keep flashing in my brain. Evie writhing in Dr. Little’s grip. Fire overtaking a corpse. Evie unconscious under an oxygen mask. Notebook pages reeking of terror and death. Evie crying her heart out. Evie trembling with fear in my hand. Evie so, so small… so vulnerable…

So beautiful…

I feel like my head might split in two as a battle rages within it. Hours pass before I finally drift into a dark, uncomfortable, fitful sleep.

[Olo]

@littlest-lily The industry and creativity required to improvise accommodations for tinies are distinct pleasures unto themselves. I bet that old shirt smells lovely.

[littlest-lily]

@Olo Well put! I completely agree, there’s something about the adventure of it. On my end it’s the idea of having to figure out how to use and navigate all of the now-enormous items. A giant friend to help with that would be lovely as well heh