Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Trying my hands at my first sequel! Which will also be the middle portion of a trilogy. Hope you enjoy!
Last edited by Bloodthirstybutcher on Tue May 14, 2024 9:43 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
- Shrink Master
- Posts: 834
- Joined: Tue Nov 10, 2020 10:36 pm
- Location: Nebraska
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- Contact:
Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 1-"Adaptation"
Endless light... white and soft, but never fading.
If not for the clock and calendar feature on the phone provided, she'd have lost all sense of time. Even then, the lack of a daily cycle could duck with a person in ways they never imagined.
The light was always there, day or night. Sleep rarely came easy.
Scratches she'd gouged into the wooden armrest of the sofa had worn deep enough that her fingers could now rest in the divots left behind. A compulsion this woman was barely aware of by this point. If she didn't at least claw at the furniture then she'd pick away at her cuticles until her fingers stung and bled. The isolation and boredom had just that kind of hold on her.
Where so many others had gone mad with fear in the same predicament, Alexandra Clark had managed to keep her head about her.... but just barely. After all, this wasn't her first rodeo. She'd spent time behind bars before, well... in this case... thick, impenetrable glass.
Four walls. A ceiling. A floor. If anything, her current accommodations were rather spacious considering what the average American prison cell had to offer. Most of the furnishings were over-scaled, given she stood quite a bit smaller than that which the Barbie Dreamhouse collection could necessitate. If she really felt like deceiving herself, she could even imagine the rustic looking sofa she sat upon was constructed from actual logs, and not those of the Lincoln variety.
The cube she'd called home over the last pair of birthdays was sparse. A bed. A sofa. The aforementioned cell phone, though not scaled down for her convenience. To her, it was as large as flat screen television. Limited internet access was provided, but streaming apps were about all that were allowed. Just enough of a distraction to fill the endless hours of empty time with empty content. Even after her sixth lap through Game of Thrones, the way the final season was handled still pissed her off.
There was a small kitchenette, though most meals were served in a communal cafeteria setting near the common, a courtyard-like area at the center of the complex. Private restroom facilities were built into each individual cell... if nothing else, Alexandra was thankful for this. God knows the lingering dread she felt at first for a litter box and a hamster bottle. Her warden at least allowed his prisoners that dignity. A prisoner she was, at least that's how she saw herself, serving out a sentence of indefinite time In reality... Alexandra Clark wasn't considered to be much more than a neglected pet.
The same went for the others trapped there. They were few, consisting of three men and one other woman. Each had their own private cell, all of which connected into the previously mentioned common area to socialize and keep fit. While exercise was considered mandatory, the inmates rarely felt obligated to interact with one another. Everyone's day was exactly the same as the day that came before. The next day wouldn't be any different. There was nothing to talk about. Not unless someone was chosen...
Their warden couldn't stress the importance of physical fitness enough, especially after what Alex had overheard of the mysterious man's "work release program" (as the others sarcastically referred to it). In her two years of captivity, Alexandra had not yet been forced to engage in one of these missions, but from what she'd heard, she knew she wanted no part in one. That she thought she still had a say in the matter was a testament to how detached she had become. When your name was called, you were expected to engage, and more importantly, not to fail.
While not outright shunning the other inmates, Alexandra kept to herself even more than they. The more she interacted with them, the more real her extraordinary misfortune felt. Their stories, their horrors... it was all too fantastic, and far too real. If she could just keep pretending that her surroundings were like any other prison, she could keep the soul-crushing reality of it all from breaking her. And it was working… sort of. The dent in the sofa might beg to differ. But she was getting through her incarceration one day at a time. All things considered, it was a piece of cake compared to actual hard time. The others weren't violent. There was no threat if being raped in the shower. This was a luxury condo compared to her cell in Mount Pleasant.
Alexandra could almost convince herself of it... then one of them would come.
Giants.
Actual fucking giants.
Real life titans, well... from Alex and the others' perspectives anyway.
In actuality just normal men, but to their miniaturized detainees these jailers were nothing short of gargantuan. These five unfortunates had become the victims of an unimaginable poison, one that left each a fraction of their original size. Alex herself could stand next to a ruler and still have to look up at the five inch mark... easily the smallest among the group. Another victim she only knew as Ben, the largest of them all, only stood at around eight inches tall, yet still dwarfed Alexandra by twice her own height. She'd often amuse herself by imagining the guy crammed into his own cell, since each was built to the same specs.
But I digress, back to these giants of men.
It was when these giants arrived, be it for the restocking of supplies... or cleaning... or god forbid, "work release"... that Alexandra thought she could give in to madness. The only people she ever saw were the warden and, more frequently, another man who served as his butler, manservant, personal bodyguard, and all around muscle. He was also their primary caretaker, but his very presence filled the diminutive Alexandra with so much fear. More fear than anything she ever thought herself capable of experiencing.
She was at the mercy of gods... gods who could wipe her measly existence from the face of the earth with the ease of a lowered boot, should they choose to. When they'd arrive, all the illusions Alexandra had manufactured to cope with her predicament crumbled away like ash. It wasn't just their size which scared her, which shouldn't be underestimated. If the warden graced them with his presence, then he wanted something from them.
And those somethings he wanted left the others with scars, both physically as well as emotionally.
Now, to say that this quintet of shrunken people were victims in the most innocent sense would be a disservice to the truth-seeking reader. They'd been caught, breaking into the home of their soon to be warden. A man who's vast riches had become the very things of legend among those within their circle. They were thieves... burglars... criminals each in their own right. Those who played a dangerous game, but had crossed paths with a better player. A man with the means and abilities to manipulate the board to his liking.
A man named Emil DeTorres.
Known better to the criminal underworld as The Broker.
A man somehow living outside of time, unaffected by the deterioration of age. A man possessing the kind of wealth that made billionaires green with envy. A man that offered each and every one of them a choice. Death... or indentured servitude.
Not much of a choice really. Self preservation is a difficult instinct to shake off at the demands of monster looming many stories above you. Each made their decision, though choosing to continue to live made for a life they quickly came to loath. There were few among them that hadn't wondered if they'd made the wrong choice. Captivity offered plenty of time to ponder such things.
Alexandra chose to block out... stick her head in the sand... keep her eyes forward while ignoring the periphery. She kept herself fit, as DeTorres expected, choosing to use her yard time when the others were asleep or otherwise engaged. She ate well and forced herself away from the alluring defeat of the Lincoln-Log-and-sponge couch as often as possible. The sofa usually won that battle of wills. When The Broker, or more likely Mr. Rudolph, the butler, paid a visit, Alex kept her head down. If she didn't look, she didn't have to accept they were real. If she didn't look, then the fear couldn't take her.
The ceaseless, relentless, clinical light made this very... very difficult. Nothing could hide from it. These weren't monsters emerging from the shadows, but flesh and blood men of gargantuan proportions.
Above all else... above her expectations, above preserving her own sanity... Alexandra Clark had a secret to protect. One that could could cost her everything should knowledge of it make its way to The Broker. Protecting this secret drove her onward, giving her the strength to keep going on to the next day... and the next… and the next. This secret was that precious.
Alex kept training, but not to appease the whims of her otherworldly warden. She was going to escape. Mount Pleasant couldn't hold her, and she'd be damned if this glass box was going to do the same.
One day at a time.
Just one day at a time.
Unfortunately, this day would not be like the others.
End Part 1
Endless light... white and soft, but never fading.
If not for the clock and calendar feature on the phone provided, she'd have lost all sense of time. Even then, the lack of a daily cycle could duck with a person in ways they never imagined.
The light was always there, day or night. Sleep rarely came easy.
Scratches she'd gouged into the wooden armrest of the sofa had worn deep enough that her fingers could now rest in the divots left behind. A compulsion this woman was barely aware of by this point. If she didn't at least claw at the furniture then she'd pick away at her cuticles until her fingers stung and bled. The isolation and boredom had just that kind of hold on her.
Where so many others had gone mad with fear in the same predicament, Alexandra Clark had managed to keep her head about her.... but just barely. After all, this wasn't her first rodeo. She'd spent time behind bars before, well... in this case... thick, impenetrable glass.
Four walls. A ceiling. A floor. If anything, her current accommodations were rather spacious considering what the average American prison cell had to offer. Most of the furnishings were over-scaled, given she stood quite a bit smaller than that which the Barbie Dreamhouse collection could necessitate. If she really felt like deceiving herself, she could even imagine the rustic looking sofa she sat upon was constructed from actual logs, and not those of the Lincoln variety.
The cube she'd called home over the last pair of birthdays was sparse. A bed. A sofa. The aforementioned cell phone, though not scaled down for her convenience. To her, it was as large as flat screen television. Limited internet access was provided, but streaming apps were about all that were allowed. Just enough of a distraction to fill the endless hours of empty time with empty content. Even after her sixth lap through Game of Thrones, the way the final season was handled still pissed her off.
There was a small kitchenette, though most meals were served in a communal cafeteria setting near the common, a courtyard-like area at the center of the complex. Private restroom facilities were built into each individual cell... if nothing else, Alexandra was thankful for this. God knows the lingering dread she felt at first for a litter box and a hamster bottle. Her warden at least allowed his prisoners that dignity. A prisoner she was, at least that's how she saw herself, serving out a sentence of indefinite time In reality... Alexandra Clark wasn't considered to be much more than a neglected pet.
The same went for the others trapped there. They were few, consisting of three men and one other woman. Each had their own private cell, all of which connected into the previously mentioned common area to socialize and keep fit. While exercise was considered mandatory, the inmates rarely felt obligated to interact with one another. Everyone's day was exactly the same as the day that came before. The next day wouldn't be any different. There was nothing to talk about. Not unless someone was chosen...
Their warden couldn't stress the importance of physical fitness enough, especially after what Alex had overheard of the mysterious man's "work release program" (as the others sarcastically referred to it). In her two years of captivity, Alexandra had not yet been forced to engage in one of these missions, but from what she'd heard, she knew she wanted no part in one. That she thought she still had a say in the matter was a testament to how detached she had become. When your name was called, you were expected to engage, and more importantly, not to fail.
While not outright shunning the other inmates, Alexandra kept to herself even more than they. The more she interacted with them, the more real her extraordinary misfortune felt. Their stories, their horrors... it was all too fantastic, and far too real. If she could just keep pretending that her surroundings were like any other prison, she could keep the soul-crushing reality of it all from breaking her. And it was working… sort of. The dent in the sofa might beg to differ. But she was getting through her incarceration one day at a time. All things considered, it was a piece of cake compared to actual hard time. The others weren't violent. There was no threat if being raped in the shower. This was a luxury condo compared to her cell in Mount Pleasant.
Alexandra could almost convince herself of it... then one of them would come.
Giants.
Actual fucking giants.
Real life titans, well... from Alex and the others' perspectives anyway.
In actuality just normal men, but to their miniaturized detainees these jailers were nothing short of gargantuan. These five unfortunates had become the victims of an unimaginable poison, one that left each a fraction of their original size. Alex herself could stand next to a ruler and still have to look up at the five inch mark... easily the smallest among the group. Another victim she only knew as Ben, the largest of them all, only stood at around eight inches tall, yet still dwarfed Alexandra by twice her own height. She'd often amuse herself by imagining the guy crammed into his own cell, since each was built to the same specs.
But I digress, back to these giants of men.
It was when these giants arrived, be it for the restocking of supplies... or cleaning... or god forbid, "work release"... that Alexandra thought she could give in to madness. The only people she ever saw were the warden and, more frequently, another man who served as his butler, manservant, personal bodyguard, and all around muscle. He was also their primary caretaker, but his very presence filled the diminutive Alexandra with so much fear. More fear than anything she ever thought herself capable of experiencing.
She was at the mercy of gods... gods who could wipe her measly existence from the face of the earth with the ease of a lowered boot, should they choose to. When they'd arrive, all the illusions Alexandra had manufactured to cope with her predicament crumbled away like ash. It wasn't just their size which scared her, which shouldn't be underestimated. If the warden graced them with his presence, then he wanted something from them.
And those somethings he wanted left the others with scars, both physically as well as emotionally.
Now, to say that this quintet of shrunken people were victims in the most innocent sense would be a disservice to the truth-seeking reader. They'd been caught, breaking into the home of their soon to be warden. A man who's vast riches had become the very things of legend among those within their circle. They were thieves... burglars... criminals each in their own right. Those who played a dangerous game, but had crossed paths with a better player. A man with the means and abilities to manipulate the board to his liking.
A man named Emil DeTorres.
Known better to the criminal underworld as The Broker.
A man somehow living outside of time, unaffected by the deterioration of age. A man possessing the kind of wealth that made billionaires green with envy. A man that offered each and every one of them a choice. Death... or indentured servitude.
Not much of a choice really. Self preservation is a difficult instinct to shake off at the demands of monster looming many stories above you. Each made their decision, though choosing to continue to live made for a life they quickly came to loath. There were few among them that hadn't wondered if they'd made the wrong choice. Captivity offered plenty of time to ponder such things.
Alexandra chose to block out... stick her head in the sand... keep her eyes forward while ignoring the periphery. She kept herself fit, as DeTorres expected, choosing to use her yard time when the others were asleep or otherwise engaged. She ate well and forced herself away from the alluring defeat of the Lincoln-Log-and-sponge couch as often as possible. The sofa usually won that battle of wills. When The Broker, or more likely Mr. Rudolph, the butler, paid a visit, Alex kept her head down. If she didn't look, she didn't have to accept they were real. If she didn't look, then the fear couldn't take her.
The ceaseless, relentless, clinical light made this very... very difficult. Nothing could hide from it. These weren't monsters emerging from the shadows, but flesh and blood men of gargantuan proportions.
Above all else... above her expectations, above preserving her own sanity... Alexandra Clark had a secret to protect. One that could could cost her everything should knowledge of it make its way to The Broker. Protecting this secret drove her onward, giving her the strength to keep going on to the next day... and the next… and the next. This secret was that precious.
Alex kept training, but not to appease the whims of her otherworldly warden. She was going to escape. Mount Pleasant couldn't hold her, and she'd be damned if this glass box was going to do the same.
One day at a time.
Just one day at a time.
Unfortunately, this day would not be like the others.
End Part 1
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
- Shrink Master
- Posts: 834
- Joined: Tue Nov 10, 2020 10:36 pm
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 2-"The Secrets We Keep..."
"Come now, Ms. Clark... you look as though you've seen a ghost!" DeTorres remarked. While her fellow prisoners had been quick to get in line, doing as he'd instructed without hesitation, Alexandra Clark had been a much tougher nut to crack. "Have I said something that's upset you?"
Alexandra stared back at the enormous face addressing her from the free side of the glass wall. Under normal circumstances the clever thief would have prided herself on her emotionless poker face, but DeTorres's mere presence filled her with so much dread that she found it difficult to hide her tells, so to speak. His muscle-brained butler was one thing, but that man barely spoke to the shrunken people he was charged with caring for. As always, if The Broker himself made an appearance, it was because he wanted something from them.
The usual, day to day unease of her captivity would have been welcome compared to the anxiety twisting her insides in a knot. The Broker had mentioned her former boss, not by name, but in such a way that made it clear he already knew. One thing any contracted burglar worth their salt knew was not to give up their employer when caught. Especially when that work came from the mob. Not unless you welcomed a price on your head.
Alexandra had been tested by DeTorres before, with certain information remaining of particular importance to him. She'd never said a word to him about Fulci. As she glared back at him, she hoped he was only bluffing. Not just for the sake of her own head, but the greater connotations. If he knew who her former employer was, the man responsible for landing her in this purgatory in the first place, then what else did he know?
Alexandra kept her mouth shut.
"Now now, Ms. Clark...," Emil continued, "after all this time you still blame me for your own indiscretions. In this country, a homeowner holds the right to protect what's his. If you so choose to point your animosity anywhere, might I suggest your own reflection?”
His tiny prisoner didn't budge. She just kept staring back at him, obviously trying to suppress her nerves. Her bouncing knees and the sweat trickling down the side of her face were a dead giveaway.
"But... if misplaced revenge is what remains fixed in your mind, I couldn't imagine a better person to direct your sour feelings towards than this Fulci character."
He wasn't bluffing.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Alexandra replied, though the delivery was less than convincing.
Emil picked at his nails for a moment, but side-eyed her just in time to catch Alexandra swallowing hard. "Do not fret, Ms. Clark. This is not a test. I've known of this Fulci gentleman for quite some time. You are not the first individual the fellow has used to invade my home."
Alex was physically shaking. Her knees bouncing uncontrollably. So much for a convincing poker face.
DeTorres brought his massive face so close to the glass that fog would spread across its surface with each exhaled breath, "you cannot convince me that with all the time you have had to sit here and stew that you have not considered it. Evening scores with Fulci for putting you here, that is. Especially given the knowledge of just how many others have preceded you. He set you up, Ms. Clark. The man is sitting peacefully at home, plotting his next hopeless, lazy scheme to pilfer what's taken me a millennia to acquire... and you're stuck here, alone and forgotten. Do you not think he's owed a little retribution?"
Alexandra's fear had grown so intense that it actually gave way to anger. Her shaking ceased. Her mind cleared. A drop of blood fell from the tip of one of her gnawed-upon fingers. As the little red dot splashed down on the floor, the moment froze for Alex. It was like a trigger. Her face contorted into the very vision of of rage. Fed up with DeTorres's prodding and deceit, she threw herself against the glass. "I'M IN HERE BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD! FUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOU!" She punched the glass as hard as she could, managing to break nothing but the skin across her knuckles.
DeTorres didn't even flinch. In his thousands of years having walked this earth, the last thing that was gong to shake him was the outburst of a four inch tall woman. Ms. Clark was far from the first to explode in such a way, everyone did eventually. It was a sign that they were cracking, ready to fall apart so he could put them back together into a version of themselves that served his purposes. In truth, for a man of unlimited time, Emil was amazed it had taken this long. No other prisoner he'd taken had shown the willpower of Mrs. Alexandra Clark.
"Tsk tsk," he voiced, shaking his head in feigned concern. "Just look what you’ve done to your little hand! Best to treat such a nasty wound at risk of infection."
"Fuck you." Alex punched the glass again to punctuate her curse, smearing blood across the transparent pane. DeTorres didn't even bat an eye.
"Shall I put this another way, Ms. Clark? It would seem appealing to your more… primitive… human instincts is an exercise in futility." Emil stepped away from the glass, crossing his arms in front of him as he considered his headstrong prisoner.
“You ARE going to execute this man. While I've tolerated his incessant obsession with me for long periods than I probably should have, I've grown quite weary of his troublesome shenanigans. Other than yourself, the quality of those he has employed as of late has been severely lacking. Any general would scoff at the idea of sending their best and brightest into the lion's den before the lower level grunts. Mr. Fulci would make for a terrible general. It's only by some force of luck, for his part, that no one else has put this fool into an early grave before now."
More blood dripped from Alexandra's fists as she stood before the glass wall, listening to The Broker's usual long-winded bullshit. While he still terrified her to no end, at that moment the fires of rage were burning. Her hate flamed with such intensity that she would have loved nothing more than gouge his gigantic eyes out with her bare fists.
"The reason for your rage escapes me, Ms. Clark. This man never cared about you, nor any of the others he doomed by pointing them in my direction. Excuse the crassness of the analogy, but you were nothing but mud to be thrown at the proverbial wall. Mr. Fulci was only interested to see if you'd stick. You are a casualty, Ms. Clark, a nameless… forgotten… fallen soldier to a general who has betrayed your trust and led you to your very downfall. Nothing more. So why not show him that you are more?”
Emil stepped even further away from the glass to offer his emotional captive some space. "So... as I've already stated, you WILL kill this man. Either it is done because I ordered you to, or for your own mental wellness. It matters very little to me. I only offer a viewpoint from which you may grasp the way things are... and perhaps the opportunity for much needed catharsis."
"Fuck your catharsis, Emil!" Alex snapped back. The lack of formality she used with DeTorres always got under his skin... and she damn well knew it. No yes, sirs or no, sirs. She refused to address him as Mr. DeTorres as the others did.
"I won't do it! Not for you... not for me... not for the fucking Queen of England! I may be a thief, but I'm not a killer!"
In response, Emil flicked the glass hard enough to shake her entire cell. This startled Alexandra enough that she stumbled backward into the miniature makeshift sofa, nearly toppling it over onto its back. Emil smirked. Just a friendly reminder of who was in charge. He shook his head disapprovingly at her, then looked down at his cell phone. "It gives me no pleasure to have to play this card, but you have forced my hand, Ms. Clark... or should I say... Mrs. Clark..."
Emil raised phone to meet the exterior glass wall with dull clunk. Alexandra needed to see the screen for herself. For a threat like the one he was about to make, nothing short of visual proof would be sufficient. And sure enough, the desired effect was achieved.
No.
It couldn't be.
How could he possibly have known?
She'd taken so many precautions. She had been so careful...
Glowing back at her, courtesy of the microscopic pixels making up the smartphone's screen, was the image of... a family. A husband... wife... and most shockingly... a then eight year old girl. Alexandra remembered the very day it had been taken. A quick weekend trip to Yellowstone National Park. Her husband was usually missing from photographs, always the photographer, rarely the model. In this case, he’d asked a passerby to take the photo so they could have at least one nice shot of the whole family together for a change. It was framed beautifully, with the towering Lower Falls cascading down through the yellow, sulfuric volcanic rocks in the background. It was a good day, but that was nearly three years ago. Good days had been few and far between since then.
Danielle, her daughter, would be ten now. Two birthdays... two entire years of her daughter's life... wasted in this living purgatory. Missing out on the young girl's formative years to serve as an object of amusement to an eccentric villain.
And then there was her handsome, loving husband, Brad. What had her absence done to him? Left with a child who was not his own, but whom he loved like she was. Did he think Alex had just up and left him? And her own daughter as well?!
Tears clouded Alexandra's vision. Her throat felt so dry she could not swallow. She dropped to her knees from her seated position and crawled across the floor of her suffocating cage in the very act of submission DeTorres had been hoping to elicit. She pressed herself against the glass in a mother's need to touch her child, even if it was only a photograph.
Two years.
Two years since she'd last seen her daughter. Seeing the child's sweet, innocent face emblazoned across DeTorres's expensive hand-held device broke her heart. For the briefest of moments, Alex imagined how big her little Danielle had gotten since...
God, how big she’d be in her current condition!
As quickly as it had arrived, the image of her family disappeared. Fading to black as Emil's phone timed out from inactivity. The device fell away from view and disappeared back into The Broker's interior jacket pocket. Alex stared back at her captor in disbelief, tears streaming down her face like the falls at Yellowstone. "You goddamn bastard... you goddamn fucking bastard... how?"
"It never ceases to amaze me what the human mind is capable of. Facial recognition software, truly incredible technology," Emil taunted. His Cheshire Cat-like smile had faded from his face. "Do I have your utmost attention now, Mrs. Clark?"
End Part 2
"Come now, Ms. Clark... you look as though you've seen a ghost!" DeTorres remarked. While her fellow prisoners had been quick to get in line, doing as he'd instructed without hesitation, Alexandra Clark had been a much tougher nut to crack. "Have I said something that's upset you?"
Alexandra stared back at the enormous face addressing her from the free side of the glass wall. Under normal circumstances the clever thief would have prided herself on her emotionless poker face, but DeTorres's mere presence filled her with so much dread that she found it difficult to hide her tells, so to speak. His muscle-brained butler was one thing, but that man barely spoke to the shrunken people he was charged with caring for. As always, if The Broker himself made an appearance, it was because he wanted something from them.
The usual, day to day unease of her captivity would have been welcome compared to the anxiety twisting her insides in a knot. The Broker had mentioned her former boss, not by name, but in such a way that made it clear he already knew. One thing any contracted burglar worth their salt knew was not to give up their employer when caught. Especially when that work came from the mob. Not unless you welcomed a price on your head.
Alexandra had been tested by DeTorres before, with certain information remaining of particular importance to him. She'd never said a word to him about Fulci. As she glared back at him, she hoped he was only bluffing. Not just for the sake of her own head, but the greater connotations. If he knew who her former employer was, the man responsible for landing her in this purgatory in the first place, then what else did he know?
Alexandra kept her mouth shut.
"Now now, Ms. Clark...," Emil continued, "after all this time you still blame me for your own indiscretions. In this country, a homeowner holds the right to protect what's his. If you so choose to point your animosity anywhere, might I suggest your own reflection?”
His tiny prisoner didn't budge. She just kept staring back at him, obviously trying to suppress her nerves. Her bouncing knees and the sweat trickling down the side of her face were a dead giveaway.
"But... if misplaced revenge is what remains fixed in your mind, I couldn't imagine a better person to direct your sour feelings towards than this Fulci character."
He wasn't bluffing.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Alexandra replied, though the delivery was less than convincing.
Emil picked at his nails for a moment, but side-eyed her just in time to catch Alexandra swallowing hard. "Do not fret, Ms. Clark. This is not a test. I've known of this Fulci gentleman for quite some time. You are not the first individual the fellow has used to invade my home."
Alex was physically shaking. Her knees bouncing uncontrollably. So much for a convincing poker face.
DeTorres brought his massive face so close to the glass that fog would spread across its surface with each exhaled breath, "you cannot convince me that with all the time you have had to sit here and stew that you have not considered it. Evening scores with Fulci for putting you here, that is. Especially given the knowledge of just how many others have preceded you. He set you up, Ms. Clark. The man is sitting peacefully at home, plotting his next hopeless, lazy scheme to pilfer what's taken me a millennia to acquire... and you're stuck here, alone and forgotten. Do you not think he's owed a little retribution?"
Alexandra's fear had grown so intense that it actually gave way to anger. Her shaking ceased. Her mind cleared. A drop of blood fell from the tip of one of her gnawed-upon fingers. As the little red dot splashed down on the floor, the moment froze for Alex. It was like a trigger. Her face contorted into the very vision of of rage. Fed up with DeTorres's prodding and deceit, she threw herself against the glass. "I'M IN HERE BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD! FUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOU!" She punched the glass as hard as she could, managing to break nothing but the skin across her knuckles.
DeTorres didn't even flinch. In his thousands of years having walked this earth, the last thing that was gong to shake him was the outburst of a four inch tall woman. Ms. Clark was far from the first to explode in such a way, everyone did eventually. It was a sign that they were cracking, ready to fall apart so he could put them back together into a version of themselves that served his purposes. In truth, for a man of unlimited time, Emil was amazed it had taken this long. No other prisoner he'd taken had shown the willpower of Mrs. Alexandra Clark.
"Tsk tsk," he voiced, shaking his head in feigned concern. "Just look what you’ve done to your little hand! Best to treat such a nasty wound at risk of infection."
"Fuck you." Alex punched the glass again to punctuate her curse, smearing blood across the transparent pane. DeTorres didn't even bat an eye.
"Shall I put this another way, Ms. Clark? It would seem appealing to your more… primitive… human instincts is an exercise in futility." Emil stepped away from the glass, crossing his arms in front of him as he considered his headstrong prisoner.
“You ARE going to execute this man. While I've tolerated his incessant obsession with me for long periods than I probably should have, I've grown quite weary of his troublesome shenanigans. Other than yourself, the quality of those he has employed as of late has been severely lacking. Any general would scoff at the idea of sending their best and brightest into the lion's den before the lower level grunts. Mr. Fulci would make for a terrible general. It's only by some force of luck, for his part, that no one else has put this fool into an early grave before now."
More blood dripped from Alexandra's fists as she stood before the glass wall, listening to The Broker's usual long-winded bullshit. While he still terrified her to no end, at that moment the fires of rage were burning. Her hate flamed with such intensity that she would have loved nothing more than gouge his gigantic eyes out with her bare fists.
"The reason for your rage escapes me, Ms. Clark. This man never cared about you, nor any of the others he doomed by pointing them in my direction. Excuse the crassness of the analogy, but you were nothing but mud to be thrown at the proverbial wall. Mr. Fulci was only interested to see if you'd stick. You are a casualty, Ms. Clark, a nameless… forgotten… fallen soldier to a general who has betrayed your trust and led you to your very downfall. Nothing more. So why not show him that you are more?”
Emil stepped even further away from the glass to offer his emotional captive some space. "So... as I've already stated, you WILL kill this man. Either it is done because I ordered you to, or for your own mental wellness. It matters very little to me. I only offer a viewpoint from which you may grasp the way things are... and perhaps the opportunity for much needed catharsis."
"Fuck your catharsis, Emil!" Alex snapped back. The lack of formality she used with DeTorres always got under his skin... and she damn well knew it. No yes, sirs or no, sirs. She refused to address him as Mr. DeTorres as the others did.
"I won't do it! Not for you... not for me... not for the fucking Queen of England! I may be a thief, but I'm not a killer!"
In response, Emil flicked the glass hard enough to shake her entire cell. This startled Alexandra enough that she stumbled backward into the miniature makeshift sofa, nearly toppling it over onto its back. Emil smirked. Just a friendly reminder of who was in charge. He shook his head disapprovingly at her, then looked down at his cell phone. "It gives me no pleasure to have to play this card, but you have forced my hand, Ms. Clark... or should I say... Mrs. Clark..."
Emil raised phone to meet the exterior glass wall with dull clunk. Alexandra needed to see the screen for herself. For a threat like the one he was about to make, nothing short of visual proof would be sufficient. And sure enough, the desired effect was achieved.
No.
It couldn't be.
How could he possibly have known?
She'd taken so many precautions. She had been so careful...
Glowing back at her, courtesy of the microscopic pixels making up the smartphone's screen, was the image of... a family. A husband... wife... and most shockingly... a then eight year old girl. Alexandra remembered the very day it had been taken. A quick weekend trip to Yellowstone National Park. Her husband was usually missing from photographs, always the photographer, rarely the model. In this case, he’d asked a passerby to take the photo so they could have at least one nice shot of the whole family together for a change. It was framed beautifully, with the towering Lower Falls cascading down through the yellow, sulfuric volcanic rocks in the background. It was a good day, but that was nearly three years ago. Good days had been few and far between since then.
Danielle, her daughter, would be ten now. Two birthdays... two entire years of her daughter's life... wasted in this living purgatory. Missing out on the young girl's formative years to serve as an object of amusement to an eccentric villain.
And then there was her handsome, loving husband, Brad. What had her absence done to him? Left with a child who was not his own, but whom he loved like she was. Did he think Alex had just up and left him? And her own daughter as well?!
Tears clouded Alexandra's vision. Her throat felt so dry she could not swallow. She dropped to her knees from her seated position and crawled across the floor of her suffocating cage in the very act of submission DeTorres had been hoping to elicit. She pressed herself against the glass in a mother's need to touch her child, even if it was only a photograph.
Two years.
Two years since she'd last seen her daughter. Seeing the child's sweet, innocent face emblazoned across DeTorres's expensive hand-held device broke her heart. For the briefest of moments, Alex imagined how big her little Danielle had gotten since...
God, how big she’d be in her current condition!
As quickly as it had arrived, the image of her family disappeared. Fading to black as Emil's phone timed out from inactivity. The device fell away from view and disappeared back into The Broker's interior jacket pocket. Alex stared back at her captor in disbelief, tears streaming down her face like the falls at Yellowstone. "You goddamn bastard... you goddamn fucking bastard... how?"
"It never ceases to amaze me what the human mind is capable of. Facial recognition software, truly incredible technology," Emil taunted. His Cheshire Cat-like smile had faded from his face. "Do I have your utmost attention now, Mrs. Clark?"
End Part 2
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 3-"...Will Be Our Undoing"
How could this be? Alexandra had strived to keep her family a safely guarded secret. Not even Fulci knew about them. The Broker, being the man of means that he was, had known for quite some time. Like one of his deals, he had chosen to keep that information close to the chest, only to be used when the time was right. The time was, in fact, right.
Any good thief would tell you, "no attachments." In Alexandra's former line of work, they were always considered extremely risky. This was the very reason why. To an ambitious individual, family could be used as leverage, and there was no one more ambitious than Emil DeTorres.
"Don't you dare...," Alex stopped herself. She wanted to threaten DeTorres with his life, but knew this giant would only find amusement in laughable threats from someone standing a mere four inches tall. One confined safely behind glass no less. Alexandra shut her eyes and clenched her fists, throwing them against the transparent barrier separating her from Emil. "Please.... don't hurt them."
"I suppose that all depends on you, does it not, Mrs. Clark?" The Broker taunted. "I do have a quick aside before we continue. Even though you chose to keep your surname in lieu of taking your husband's, I do still call you Mrs. Clark, correct? This little hitch in English formality has confounded me for some time."
DeTorres's quirky little tangent fell on deaf ears. Alex was once again shaking... sobbing... buckling under the guilt of having put the people she loved most in this world in mortal danger. All of her efforts had been in vain. And then there was Fulci...
"Please don't make me kill Lucio," she pleaded. "I've known him for years... please don't make me kill him. I beg you... I’m not a murderer… I’ve never killed anyone.”
"With all do respect, Mrs. Clark...," Emil corrected her, "if I should decide at this very moment that you are no longer a human being, but a common barnyard foul… it would serve your best interests to begin clucking." The man narrowed his enormous eyes at her. "You ARE whatever I decide you to be."
Alex let her fists uncoil and let her legs slide out from beneath her, slumped over and sitting upon the floor in defeat. "Why me? Couldn't you just as easily have Fulci sniped... or drowned... or run down in the street? Why do you need me?!" The tiny woman tried to sniff her tears away, but to no avail.
"Of course," he admitted, "any number of ways to eliminate a man are available to me at the snap of my fingers. I could have this Fulci done away with this afternoon, should I so choose... but where's the sport in that? When a man, such as I, possesses a collection…such as yourselves, and with the unique set of talents each of you are gifted with... why not make things more interesting?!"
Alex looked into The Broker's eyes, each larger than a schoolroom globe, crying and pleading to her tormentor with her own. "This is all just some game to you?! This is my life, Emil... my family!”
For a moment, DeTorres gave pause... with Alex thinking she might have seen the slightest spark of humanity in his expression... even if only for a fraction of a second. Then Emil rolled his eyes and dismissed her, "a little dramatic, aren't we?"
"If anyone has made a spectacle here, Emil... it's you," Alex countered. "You've turned me into a freak of nature! A humiliating shell. I live in constant terror of you! You've robbed me of my size and my dignity, but I'd happily spend the rest of my life locked up in this goddamned hamster cage and you'd never hear another peep out of me… as long as I knew my family was safe from people like you. Now you've even taken that from me!"
"And if you had simply cooperated from the start, Mrs. Clark, you could still maintain that bubble of delusion you've built for yourself." DeTorres shook his head, "and yet you still blame me for your troubles. Like I've already told you, nothing has happened to you in the last two years that you have not brought upon yourself."
Alexandra shifted again, this time turning her back to the intense, penetrating gaze of the cruel Goliath beyond the glass. She rested her back against the corner of her unit, pulling her knees up to her chin. "I can't do it. Please, Emil. I can't go through with this."
The pair talked themselves in circles, with DeTorres growing more and more impatient. After allowing Alexandra to live instead of adding her to the mass grave of tiny, ground up corpses hidden in his backyard, it was with the strict understanding that she would do exactly as she was told. He was not running a hostel for miniaturized home invaders. From where he stood, Alexandra was voiding that verbal contract... and it was never too late to add her to his current batch of tumbling stones.
"Knock, knock! Excuse me!" A new voice interrupted the tense situation from the entrance to Alexandra's living space. There were no doors in the cells, only a long cylindrical tube that led to the common area. Alexandra’s comparison to a hamster cage was not far off. "You mind if I butt in, boss?"
The voice belonged to the only other woman occupying the miniature prison, a certain Eva Hutch. Eva was a few years younger than Alex, perhaps in her mid-twenties, but had been incarcerated far longer than anyone else at that time. She was quite pale, with wild red hair that always looked like she'd just stuck her finger in an outlet. She stood at least three inches taller than Alexandra, making quite the imposing figure standing in the rounded doorway.
As usual, the interrupting ginger had a big stupid grin on her face. Hutch's nature was consistently bubbly, which was enough to put anyone off, especially while doing hard time. That, and the rapport she had developed with the lord of this glorified hamster cage had made it impossible for Alexandra to like her, let alone trust her.
"Why yes, Ms. Hutch!" Emil always greeted his obvious favorite with heavy enthusiasm. "Join us! And how is my little friend faring this morning?!"
"I'm good, Mistah D!" She replied. "And yourself?"
"You're well," Emil corrected her grammar like an English teacher would a schoolgirl, "...and thank you, I'm quite well myself. What is it I can assist you with, Ms. Hutch?"
Eva padded her way towards the glass. She'd learned over time that she wouldn't have to speak as loudly so her employer to hear her this way. "Well, I overheard you guys talkin' and I had me an idea."
Despite his constant urging of his diminutive ward to quit butchering the English language, Emil secretly found Eva's casual use of the common vernacular quite endearing... cute even. "Oh really? And what epiphany happened to strike your tiny head this morning? Like lightning thrown down from Olympus by Zeus himself?"
"Epiphy-what-now?" Eva replied, revealing even more of her meager education.
Emil smiled and lightly palmed his face, "your idea, Ms. Hutch?"
"Oh yeah, right! I knew that," she lied. Eva looked down at Alexandra, who still cowered in the corner like a frightened puppy. "I was wonderin' if you'd let me go with her... you know, like... help her out and stuff?"
"You... wish to... assist... Mrs. Clark here?!" DeTorres echoed back with his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Did I hear that correctly, my dear?"
"Sure! Why not?!" Eva smiled back. "I've been out there bunches of times! I could show her the ropes, ya know?! Maybe all she needs is a little support and positive motivation!"
Christ almighty, Alex thought to herself. She could hear the imaginary chewing gum smacking in Eva's teeth like an 80s mall rat. One with a heavy Texas accent, that is.
"Hmmmmm, interesting," DeTorres considered Eva's proposal for a moment while he scratched at his pointed chin. "It is highly irregular. Risky even. I'd hate to lose two of you should anything go awry."
Eva waved him off, "naaaah! We off the old bozo and then kick back with a couple of drinks afta'wards... business as usual, 'ey bossman! Piece of cake! Have I ever letchah down before?!"
Emil chuckled a little, "no, you most certainly have not, Ms. Hutch. So... should I allow this experiment to go forward, of course... you would be willing to accept responsibility for Mrs. Clark?"
"Uh-huh," she beamed back.
"And you understand that this does not negate your own place in the que?" He added.
Eva waved him off, "I ain't tryna git outta nothin! Shit, boss! You've had me cooped up in he'ya for so long I just might plug a president for ya just to get a breath of fresh air!"
Emil outright laughed at Eva's enthusiasm, clasping his hands together with delight, "oh Ms. Hutch, you are a fun one, aren't you?!"
"Aw shucks, boss," Eva blushed, "ya ain't so bad ya'self!"
An exaggerated scoff rung out through the cell, emanating from the corner where Alexandra crouched. A scoff loud enough to finally put a kibosh to all the smoke being blown up these two's asses.
"And what is the opinion of Mrs. Clark?" DeTorres asked, "are Ms. Hutch's terms acceptable?"
"I don't need a babysitter," Alexandra snapped back, "especially not her."
"Ah now, don't be all like that," Eva whined, "come on! It'll be like a... uh... a girls day out!"
Alex scowled back, "are you fucking kidding me?!"
"I believe I'll leave the two of you to discuss this further. Just know that, come morning, you WILL be accompanying me to New York, Mrs. Clark. Be it as a trio or a pair. If I were in your shoes, or lack thereof, I'd seriously consider taking Ms. Hutch here up on her generous offer."
And with that, The Broker left through the vault door, leaving his tiny "staff" to their decision.
"Generous my ass," Alexandra grumbled. "You want out of here as badly as I do, you fucking brown-noser."
"Well, duh!" Eva countered less than eloquently. "Unlike the rest of you mopey saps, I take advantage of my time away from this kennel! So what what if'n I gotta kill some jackass I don't even know to get it?!"
Alex shot to her feet and stormed towards the taller redhead, planting her index finder right in the taller woman's chest. "How many times do I have to say this? I'm. Not. A. Fucking. Killer." The shorter brunette punctuated each word with an increasingly stronger poke. "And I DO know this guy!"
Eva shoved Alex away. Though she didn't think she'd pushed all that hard, it was enough to send the smaller woman back to the floor. "Gawddamnit, woman! I'm only trying to help you! What exactly is your major malfunction?!"
Alex didn't get back up. Instead of coming back at Eva with everything she had, she lost control, bursting into tears. She tried to hide her face, her weakness, from the looming Texan, but to little avail. It didn't take a rocket surgeon to realize that Alex really wasn't angry with Eva at all. The peppy girl was just unfortunate enough to be the only person there for this frightened mother and wife to take her frustrations out on. DeTorres had threatened her family, something even Eva had never seen him do.
"Look, he's gonna make you go... there's no getting out of it," Eva explained in a far more tender tone. She knelt down next to Alex, wanting to put an arm around the sobbing woman, but rightly deciding to let her be. "It'll be a lot easier for ya if you just accept that. Mistah D can be real nice if'n ya just do what he wants."
Alex scoffed again, this time trying to role the tears out of her eyes. She looked Eva directly in the face and asked, "why the hell do you want to help me? We aren’t sorority sisters or some stupid shit."
Eva stood back up and planted her fists against her hips. "And why exactly shouldn't we be? We got us the only two vaginas in this place! We should be lookin' out for one another." Even Alexandra was surprised when she laughed through her sobs at Eva's relentless positivity.
"Look," the tall redhead extended her hand, not just to help Alex to her feet, but as a peace offering, "I know you've been he'ya a while now, but you're still the new girl to the rest of us. I've been right where you are, but I didn't have anyone to lean back on. Let me be that for you."
Alexandra stared at Eva's extended hand, then to her face, then back again. With great reluctance... she extended her own to take it.
End Part 3
How could this be? Alexandra had strived to keep her family a safely guarded secret. Not even Fulci knew about them. The Broker, being the man of means that he was, had known for quite some time. Like one of his deals, he had chosen to keep that information close to the chest, only to be used when the time was right. The time was, in fact, right.
Any good thief would tell you, "no attachments." In Alexandra's former line of work, they were always considered extremely risky. This was the very reason why. To an ambitious individual, family could be used as leverage, and there was no one more ambitious than Emil DeTorres.
"Don't you dare...," Alex stopped herself. She wanted to threaten DeTorres with his life, but knew this giant would only find amusement in laughable threats from someone standing a mere four inches tall. One confined safely behind glass no less. Alexandra shut her eyes and clenched her fists, throwing them against the transparent barrier separating her from Emil. "Please.... don't hurt them."
"I suppose that all depends on you, does it not, Mrs. Clark?" The Broker taunted. "I do have a quick aside before we continue. Even though you chose to keep your surname in lieu of taking your husband's, I do still call you Mrs. Clark, correct? This little hitch in English formality has confounded me for some time."
DeTorres's quirky little tangent fell on deaf ears. Alex was once again shaking... sobbing... buckling under the guilt of having put the people she loved most in this world in mortal danger. All of her efforts had been in vain. And then there was Fulci...
"Please don't make me kill Lucio," she pleaded. "I've known him for years... please don't make me kill him. I beg you... I’m not a murderer… I’ve never killed anyone.”
"With all do respect, Mrs. Clark...," Emil corrected her, "if I should decide at this very moment that you are no longer a human being, but a common barnyard foul… it would serve your best interests to begin clucking." The man narrowed his enormous eyes at her. "You ARE whatever I decide you to be."
Alex let her fists uncoil and let her legs slide out from beneath her, slumped over and sitting upon the floor in defeat. "Why me? Couldn't you just as easily have Fulci sniped... or drowned... or run down in the street? Why do you need me?!" The tiny woman tried to sniff her tears away, but to no avail.
"Of course," he admitted, "any number of ways to eliminate a man are available to me at the snap of my fingers. I could have this Fulci done away with this afternoon, should I so choose... but where's the sport in that? When a man, such as I, possesses a collection…such as yourselves, and with the unique set of talents each of you are gifted with... why not make things more interesting?!"
Alex looked into The Broker's eyes, each larger than a schoolroom globe, crying and pleading to her tormentor with her own. "This is all just some game to you?! This is my life, Emil... my family!”
For a moment, DeTorres gave pause... with Alex thinking she might have seen the slightest spark of humanity in his expression... even if only for a fraction of a second. Then Emil rolled his eyes and dismissed her, "a little dramatic, aren't we?"
"If anyone has made a spectacle here, Emil... it's you," Alex countered. "You've turned me into a freak of nature! A humiliating shell. I live in constant terror of you! You've robbed me of my size and my dignity, but I'd happily spend the rest of my life locked up in this goddamned hamster cage and you'd never hear another peep out of me… as long as I knew my family was safe from people like you. Now you've even taken that from me!"
"And if you had simply cooperated from the start, Mrs. Clark, you could still maintain that bubble of delusion you've built for yourself." DeTorres shook his head, "and yet you still blame me for your troubles. Like I've already told you, nothing has happened to you in the last two years that you have not brought upon yourself."
Alexandra shifted again, this time turning her back to the intense, penetrating gaze of the cruel Goliath beyond the glass. She rested her back against the corner of her unit, pulling her knees up to her chin. "I can't do it. Please, Emil. I can't go through with this."
The pair talked themselves in circles, with DeTorres growing more and more impatient. After allowing Alexandra to live instead of adding her to the mass grave of tiny, ground up corpses hidden in his backyard, it was with the strict understanding that she would do exactly as she was told. He was not running a hostel for miniaturized home invaders. From where he stood, Alexandra was voiding that verbal contract... and it was never too late to add her to his current batch of tumbling stones.
"Knock, knock! Excuse me!" A new voice interrupted the tense situation from the entrance to Alexandra's living space. There were no doors in the cells, only a long cylindrical tube that led to the common area. Alexandra’s comparison to a hamster cage was not far off. "You mind if I butt in, boss?"
The voice belonged to the only other woman occupying the miniature prison, a certain Eva Hutch. Eva was a few years younger than Alex, perhaps in her mid-twenties, but had been incarcerated far longer than anyone else at that time. She was quite pale, with wild red hair that always looked like she'd just stuck her finger in an outlet. She stood at least three inches taller than Alexandra, making quite the imposing figure standing in the rounded doorway.
As usual, the interrupting ginger had a big stupid grin on her face. Hutch's nature was consistently bubbly, which was enough to put anyone off, especially while doing hard time. That, and the rapport she had developed with the lord of this glorified hamster cage had made it impossible for Alexandra to like her, let alone trust her.
"Why yes, Ms. Hutch!" Emil always greeted his obvious favorite with heavy enthusiasm. "Join us! And how is my little friend faring this morning?!"
"I'm good, Mistah D!" She replied. "And yourself?"
"You're well," Emil corrected her grammar like an English teacher would a schoolgirl, "...and thank you, I'm quite well myself. What is it I can assist you with, Ms. Hutch?"
Eva padded her way towards the glass. She'd learned over time that she wouldn't have to speak as loudly so her employer to hear her this way. "Well, I overheard you guys talkin' and I had me an idea."
Despite his constant urging of his diminutive ward to quit butchering the English language, Emil secretly found Eva's casual use of the common vernacular quite endearing... cute even. "Oh really? And what epiphany happened to strike your tiny head this morning? Like lightning thrown down from Olympus by Zeus himself?"
"Epiphy-what-now?" Eva replied, revealing even more of her meager education.
Emil smiled and lightly palmed his face, "your idea, Ms. Hutch?"
"Oh yeah, right! I knew that," she lied. Eva looked down at Alexandra, who still cowered in the corner like a frightened puppy. "I was wonderin' if you'd let me go with her... you know, like... help her out and stuff?"
"You... wish to... assist... Mrs. Clark here?!" DeTorres echoed back with his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Did I hear that correctly, my dear?"
"Sure! Why not?!" Eva smiled back. "I've been out there bunches of times! I could show her the ropes, ya know?! Maybe all she needs is a little support and positive motivation!"
Christ almighty, Alex thought to herself. She could hear the imaginary chewing gum smacking in Eva's teeth like an 80s mall rat. One with a heavy Texas accent, that is.
"Hmmmmm, interesting," DeTorres considered Eva's proposal for a moment while he scratched at his pointed chin. "It is highly irregular. Risky even. I'd hate to lose two of you should anything go awry."
Eva waved him off, "naaaah! We off the old bozo and then kick back with a couple of drinks afta'wards... business as usual, 'ey bossman! Piece of cake! Have I ever letchah down before?!"
Emil chuckled a little, "no, you most certainly have not, Ms. Hutch. So... should I allow this experiment to go forward, of course... you would be willing to accept responsibility for Mrs. Clark?"
"Uh-huh," she beamed back.
"And you understand that this does not negate your own place in the que?" He added.
Eva waved him off, "I ain't tryna git outta nothin! Shit, boss! You've had me cooped up in he'ya for so long I just might plug a president for ya just to get a breath of fresh air!"
Emil outright laughed at Eva's enthusiasm, clasping his hands together with delight, "oh Ms. Hutch, you are a fun one, aren't you?!"
"Aw shucks, boss," Eva blushed, "ya ain't so bad ya'self!"
An exaggerated scoff rung out through the cell, emanating from the corner where Alexandra crouched. A scoff loud enough to finally put a kibosh to all the smoke being blown up these two's asses.
"And what is the opinion of Mrs. Clark?" DeTorres asked, "are Ms. Hutch's terms acceptable?"
"I don't need a babysitter," Alexandra snapped back, "especially not her."
"Ah now, don't be all like that," Eva whined, "come on! It'll be like a... uh... a girls day out!"
Alex scowled back, "are you fucking kidding me?!"
"I believe I'll leave the two of you to discuss this further. Just know that, come morning, you WILL be accompanying me to New York, Mrs. Clark. Be it as a trio or a pair. If I were in your shoes, or lack thereof, I'd seriously consider taking Ms. Hutch here up on her generous offer."
And with that, The Broker left through the vault door, leaving his tiny "staff" to their decision.
"Generous my ass," Alexandra grumbled. "You want out of here as badly as I do, you fucking brown-noser."
"Well, duh!" Eva countered less than eloquently. "Unlike the rest of you mopey saps, I take advantage of my time away from this kennel! So what what if'n I gotta kill some jackass I don't even know to get it?!"
Alex shot to her feet and stormed towards the taller redhead, planting her index finder right in the taller woman's chest. "How many times do I have to say this? I'm. Not. A. Fucking. Killer." The shorter brunette punctuated each word with an increasingly stronger poke. "And I DO know this guy!"
Eva shoved Alex away. Though she didn't think she'd pushed all that hard, it was enough to send the smaller woman back to the floor. "Gawddamnit, woman! I'm only trying to help you! What exactly is your major malfunction?!"
Alex didn't get back up. Instead of coming back at Eva with everything she had, she lost control, bursting into tears. She tried to hide her face, her weakness, from the looming Texan, but to little avail. It didn't take a rocket surgeon to realize that Alex really wasn't angry with Eva at all. The peppy girl was just unfortunate enough to be the only person there for this frightened mother and wife to take her frustrations out on. DeTorres had threatened her family, something even Eva had never seen him do.
"Look, he's gonna make you go... there's no getting out of it," Eva explained in a far more tender tone. She knelt down next to Alex, wanting to put an arm around the sobbing woman, but rightly deciding to let her be. "It'll be a lot easier for ya if you just accept that. Mistah D can be real nice if'n ya just do what he wants."
Alex scoffed again, this time trying to role the tears out of her eyes. She looked Eva directly in the face and asked, "why the hell do you want to help me? We aren’t sorority sisters or some stupid shit."
Eva stood back up and planted her fists against her hips. "And why exactly shouldn't we be? We got us the only two vaginas in this place! We should be lookin' out for one another." Even Alexandra was surprised when she laughed through her sobs at Eva's relentless positivity.
"Look," the tall redhead extended her hand, not just to help Alex to her feet, but as a peace offering, "I know you've been he'ya a while now, but you're still the new girl to the rest of us. I've been right where you are, but I didn't have anyone to lean back on. Let me be that for you."
Alexandra stared at Eva's extended hand, then to her face, then back again. With great reluctance... she extended her own to take it.
End Part 3
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 4-"In Flight Entertainment"
By mid-flight, Alexandra wasn't sure what she was dreading more... having to go through with the gruesome task she'd been ordered to carry out... or spending another three hours cooped up in a small pet carrier with Eva.
Though a small part of her was excited to see New York City again, in spite of the circumstances, enduring her partner's obnoxious southern accent was enough to remind her that there were still parts of the country she wished would sink into the ocean.
"Ooo! This is so cool, Mistah D made cooked it up for me!" Eva beamed from ear to ear as she went through the pack DeTorres had provided her. A couple of matchsticks, a sliver of aluminum scrap... presumedly to take the place of a proper knife, and a small spool of thread... which in relation to their reduced size was equal in size to a rolled up sleeping bag. There were even a couple of bandaids in case they should need to wrap a major cut, gash, or sprain.
During her time under The Broker's employ, Eva had requested each of these items to be added to her supplies, along with some customized tools, with each new mission. This was something she was particularly proud of and bragged about... excessively. Her favorite of the tiny, handmade tools was currently and haphazardly balanced in the palm of her hand like a circus clown.
"There should be one in your pack too!" She informed her reluctant partner. "Bossman soldered a few fish hooks together so's we could have some grappling hooks to climb with. Ain't they the coolest?!"
Alex sat in the corner of the enclosure, staring blankly out one of the air holes in the side of the carrier. The faintest patch of blue sky was peaking through one of the round windows of The Broker's private jet. The sight was a welcome distraction from the searing headache that always seemed to accompany any visit to a higher altitude. Planes, mountains... she even had it happen on a rollercoaster once. The babbling redhead sitting across the cage wasn't making the throbbing pressure in her skull any better. Still, it had been two years since she'd seen anything but the inside of The Broker's vault and getting to see the outside world again made her realize just how much she missed it.
"Uh-huh," Alex replied without really paying attention to what Eva was saying.
"You gotta be extra careful though, the hooks on these babies are sharp as hell. I gots the scars to prove it!" Betraying her own generous nugget of wisdom, Eva tapped the pointed barb at the tip of the curved hook and managed to draw blood from her index finger. She winced at the abrupt sharpness of pain, but was glad to see that Alexandra hadn't noticed the stupid mistake. What's a little blood shed at the expense of sparing some embarrassment? She thought to herself. Eva squeezed her finger between her lips, where she sucked at the tiny puncture hole like a lollipop.
Alex continued to stare out the air hole in a daze, "uh-huh."
Eva pushed the finger she was sucking on to the inside of her cheek, "hey! You been listnin' to anything I've said?!"
"Uh-huh," Alex repeated vacantly for the thousandth time.
Frustrated, Eva selected a matchstick from the floor in front of her, then chucked it at the smaller woman across the cage. Though not weighing near what a baseball bat would by comparison, the oversized match was easily just as long. The shaft whacked Alex right in the face, landing right across the bridge of her nose. "Aaahh! Fuck! Jesus, Eva... what the fuck was that for!"
"I'm s'posed to be helping you, but you're just staring off into space like some brat on the last day of school!" Eva punctuated her frustration by tossing another match at Alex. This time the little brunette blocked it.
"Knock it off, Eva!" Alex yelled back. "You could've broke my nose!"
Once again, Eva responded by tossing yet another match. This time, Alex threw one back as though it were a javelin, beaning the larger girl right between the eyes.
"Fuuuuuuuck!" Eva doubled over clutching at her throbbing forehead.
Alex pulled herself to her feet and pointed a finger back at her unwanted traveling companion, "your goddamn fucking mouth has been running nonstop since LAX! How the fuck can anyone talk so goddamn much without saying any-fucking-thing at all?!"
"You ungrateful bitch!" Eva spit back. "I don't have ta be here, you know! I could just as easily be back in my cell, binge watching the Kardashians and flickin’ muh bean!"
Alex spun another stick back at Eva, "Yeah! You fucking should have! Figures that's the kind of trash some dumb hick like you would fill their empty head with!" Alex picked up the last matchstick Eva had thrown at her, this time gripping it like a police baton. "I never asked for your help! I never asked for any of this shit!"
Eva took a match in each hand and charged at Alex, who in turn, charged right back. Each woman was ready for a knockdown-drag out, one that unfortunately would never come. As soon they crossed the flimsy balsa wood sticks (as laughable a thought as it was that the flimsy sticks would ever be sturdy enough to be used as swords), the very floor beneath their feet shifted violently. Eva tumbled face first into blue plastic base of the pet carrier, while Alex fell on top of the miniature giantess immediately after. Much to the smaller woman's horror, the softer-landing-than-Eva's she'd received resulted with her face right between the cheeks of of the redhead's buttocks.
"Now now, you two," DeTorres's voice thundered down like a disappointed deity hiding in the heavens. The carrier had been resting safely in his lap since before takeoff. A slight jostle of the cage, like an impatient child testing his Christmas presents under the tree, was all it took to get his little traveling companions' attention. "Now, if you children can't play nice together I'm gonna have to send the two of you off to bed without dessert."
"SHE STARTED IT!" Alex screamed.
"SHE STARTED IT!" Eva also screamed… at the exact same time.
This incredibly childish response caused DeTorres to pull an unexpected spit take, spraying his gin & tonic all over the floor in front of him. He tried to hide his amusement, but it was no use. The rumbles of belly laughter were already building towards another eruption. Neither of the tiny women had ever heard The Broker laugh like that before.
"Excuse me sir, is everything alright?" The lone flight attendant asked as she promptly began to dab at the damp spots on Emil's knees with a towel. She was a pretty young blonde woman who'd been working for DeTorres on his many cross country and international trips for about three years, ever since she'd dropped out of college. Three years... and he still didn't know her name.
"Yes yes, quite alright." The giggling man cracked his newspaper over to the comics section and pointed to a certain famous, pudgy feline. "Oh Garfield.... he just kills me!" It was a serviceable enough cover for what his actual amusement, but one that only made him laugh harder at its inherent stupidity.
Back down inside the pet carrier, the laughing earthquake continued to build in intensity. The miniaturized women had nothing to hold to, so with each rumble of Emil's belly laughter, they would slide from one end of the kennel to the next. Go airborne. Crash into one another. With Eva's pack emptied while she inventoried to an uninterested Alexandra… pointed, jagged, and sharp implements had joined the girls on their bumpy ride.
Alexandra found herself pinned down at an angle in one corner beneath her own full pack and the forces of gravity. The grappling hook Eva had been so proud of earlier came sliding down the newly inclined floor as The Broker lifted his knee to slap it. The implement gathered speed, scratching a trail in the plastic with its dangerous barbs. Everything was happening so fast. Alex's survival instincts forced her to hide behind the bag and brace for impact.
With the quickness of a cat, Eva leapt from the adjacent corner and caught the potentially deadly grapple with her left hand, and just in time. One of its claws was about to come down straight on Alex's skull. Eva quickly stuffed the tool back inside her pack before it could do either of them any future harm… all while the giant continued to cackle like a kookaburra above them. All they could do in the meantime was ride out their own personal tremor until Emil's stomach hurt to much to laugh anymore.
As the stewardess continued to blot at the wet areas of the floor, she tried to sneak a glimpse of what her passenger had stowed away in his little pet carrier. A lizard? A small rabbit maybe? The Broker was always an odd customer. She'd wondered what sort of pet would satisfy a man like him. Certainly not a dog or cat. He didn't always bring the carrier on flights with him, but when he did, he clung to that little kennel like nuclear secrets were stored inside.
"You sure I can't take that from you, Mr. DeTorres?" She offered. "Give ya a chance to go to the lavatory and freshen up?"
Emil's delighted demeanor dropped in an instant.
"Ask me that again and see if you don't wind up scrubbing urinals in Decatur, young lady."
The stewardess took a step back, her hand clutching at invisible pearls in shock. She'd seen her boss angry before, but he never directed any of that towards her. Never like this. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, sir... I didn't mean-"
The fire in Emil's eyes that had ignited seemingly out of nowhere disappeared just as quickly. His frown was hiding a mischievous grin, one desperately trying to break free. "Ppppfffftttttthahahahahahahahaha!"
The stewardess looked on, completely bewildered, "sir?"
DeTorres took her hand and apologized, "I do apologize, my dear child... I could not help myself... but your face! To answer your question, no… no, I'll hold onto it. I prefer to keep my little accomplices here where I can maintain a close eye on them." He finished his statement with a mischievous wink and the chuckle of a man with a secret.
The flight attendant let an awkward laugh slip, but only for appearances. DeTorres's cruel little prank had really rattled her. His words continued to resonate in her head, perhaps it was time to seek other employment. Her boss had to be losing it.
End Part 4
By mid-flight, Alexandra wasn't sure what she was dreading more... having to go through with the gruesome task she'd been ordered to carry out... or spending another three hours cooped up in a small pet carrier with Eva.
Though a small part of her was excited to see New York City again, in spite of the circumstances, enduring her partner's obnoxious southern accent was enough to remind her that there were still parts of the country she wished would sink into the ocean.
"Ooo! This is so cool, Mistah D made cooked it up for me!" Eva beamed from ear to ear as she went through the pack DeTorres had provided her. A couple of matchsticks, a sliver of aluminum scrap... presumedly to take the place of a proper knife, and a small spool of thread... which in relation to their reduced size was equal in size to a rolled up sleeping bag. There were even a couple of bandaids in case they should need to wrap a major cut, gash, or sprain.
During her time under The Broker's employ, Eva had requested each of these items to be added to her supplies, along with some customized tools, with each new mission. This was something she was particularly proud of and bragged about... excessively. Her favorite of the tiny, handmade tools was currently and haphazardly balanced in the palm of her hand like a circus clown.
"There should be one in your pack too!" She informed her reluctant partner. "Bossman soldered a few fish hooks together so's we could have some grappling hooks to climb with. Ain't they the coolest?!"
Alex sat in the corner of the enclosure, staring blankly out one of the air holes in the side of the carrier. The faintest patch of blue sky was peaking through one of the round windows of The Broker's private jet. The sight was a welcome distraction from the searing headache that always seemed to accompany any visit to a higher altitude. Planes, mountains... she even had it happen on a rollercoaster once. The babbling redhead sitting across the cage wasn't making the throbbing pressure in her skull any better. Still, it had been two years since she'd seen anything but the inside of The Broker's vault and getting to see the outside world again made her realize just how much she missed it.
"Uh-huh," Alex replied without really paying attention to what Eva was saying.
"You gotta be extra careful though, the hooks on these babies are sharp as hell. I gots the scars to prove it!" Betraying her own generous nugget of wisdom, Eva tapped the pointed barb at the tip of the curved hook and managed to draw blood from her index finger. She winced at the abrupt sharpness of pain, but was glad to see that Alexandra hadn't noticed the stupid mistake. What's a little blood shed at the expense of sparing some embarrassment? She thought to herself. Eva squeezed her finger between her lips, where she sucked at the tiny puncture hole like a lollipop.
Alex continued to stare out the air hole in a daze, "uh-huh."
Eva pushed the finger she was sucking on to the inside of her cheek, "hey! You been listnin' to anything I've said?!"
"Uh-huh," Alex repeated vacantly for the thousandth time.
Frustrated, Eva selected a matchstick from the floor in front of her, then chucked it at the smaller woman across the cage. Though not weighing near what a baseball bat would by comparison, the oversized match was easily just as long. The shaft whacked Alex right in the face, landing right across the bridge of her nose. "Aaahh! Fuck! Jesus, Eva... what the fuck was that for!"
"I'm s'posed to be helping you, but you're just staring off into space like some brat on the last day of school!" Eva punctuated her frustration by tossing another match at Alex. This time the little brunette blocked it.
"Knock it off, Eva!" Alex yelled back. "You could've broke my nose!"
Once again, Eva responded by tossing yet another match. This time, Alex threw one back as though it were a javelin, beaning the larger girl right between the eyes.
"Fuuuuuuuck!" Eva doubled over clutching at her throbbing forehead.
Alex pulled herself to her feet and pointed a finger back at her unwanted traveling companion, "your goddamn fucking mouth has been running nonstop since LAX! How the fuck can anyone talk so goddamn much without saying any-fucking-thing at all?!"
"You ungrateful bitch!" Eva spit back. "I don't have ta be here, you know! I could just as easily be back in my cell, binge watching the Kardashians and flickin’ muh bean!"
Alex spun another stick back at Eva, "Yeah! You fucking should have! Figures that's the kind of trash some dumb hick like you would fill their empty head with!" Alex picked up the last matchstick Eva had thrown at her, this time gripping it like a police baton. "I never asked for your help! I never asked for any of this shit!"
Eva took a match in each hand and charged at Alex, who in turn, charged right back. Each woman was ready for a knockdown-drag out, one that unfortunately would never come. As soon they crossed the flimsy balsa wood sticks (as laughable a thought as it was that the flimsy sticks would ever be sturdy enough to be used as swords), the very floor beneath their feet shifted violently. Eva tumbled face first into blue plastic base of the pet carrier, while Alex fell on top of the miniature giantess immediately after. Much to the smaller woman's horror, the softer-landing-than-Eva's she'd received resulted with her face right between the cheeks of of the redhead's buttocks.
"Now now, you two," DeTorres's voice thundered down like a disappointed deity hiding in the heavens. The carrier had been resting safely in his lap since before takeoff. A slight jostle of the cage, like an impatient child testing his Christmas presents under the tree, was all it took to get his little traveling companions' attention. "Now, if you children can't play nice together I'm gonna have to send the two of you off to bed without dessert."
"SHE STARTED IT!" Alex screamed.
"SHE STARTED IT!" Eva also screamed… at the exact same time.
This incredibly childish response caused DeTorres to pull an unexpected spit take, spraying his gin & tonic all over the floor in front of him. He tried to hide his amusement, but it was no use. The rumbles of belly laughter were already building towards another eruption. Neither of the tiny women had ever heard The Broker laugh like that before.
"Excuse me sir, is everything alright?" The lone flight attendant asked as she promptly began to dab at the damp spots on Emil's knees with a towel. She was a pretty young blonde woman who'd been working for DeTorres on his many cross country and international trips for about three years, ever since she'd dropped out of college. Three years... and he still didn't know her name.
"Yes yes, quite alright." The giggling man cracked his newspaper over to the comics section and pointed to a certain famous, pudgy feline. "Oh Garfield.... he just kills me!" It was a serviceable enough cover for what his actual amusement, but one that only made him laugh harder at its inherent stupidity.
Back down inside the pet carrier, the laughing earthquake continued to build in intensity. The miniaturized women had nothing to hold to, so with each rumble of Emil's belly laughter, they would slide from one end of the kennel to the next. Go airborne. Crash into one another. With Eva's pack emptied while she inventoried to an uninterested Alexandra… pointed, jagged, and sharp implements had joined the girls on their bumpy ride.
Alexandra found herself pinned down at an angle in one corner beneath her own full pack and the forces of gravity. The grappling hook Eva had been so proud of earlier came sliding down the newly inclined floor as The Broker lifted his knee to slap it. The implement gathered speed, scratching a trail in the plastic with its dangerous barbs. Everything was happening so fast. Alex's survival instincts forced her to hide behind the bag and brace for impact.
With the quickness of a cat, Eva leapt from the adjacent corner and caught the potentially deadly grapple with her left hand, and just in time. One of its claws was about to come down straight on Alex's skull. Eva quickly stuffed the tool back inside her pack before it could do either of them any future harm… all while the giant continued to cackle like a kookaburra above them. All they could do in the meantime was ride out their own personal tremor until Emil's stomach hurt to much to laugh anymore.
As the stewardess continued to blot at the wet areas of the floor, she tried to sneak a glimpse of what her passenger had stowed away in his little pet carrier. A lizard? A small rabbit maybe? The Broker was always an odd customer. She'd wondered what sort of pet would satisfy a man like him. Certainly not a dog or cat. He didn't always bring the carrier on flights with him, but when he did, he clung to that little kennel like nuclear secrets were stored inside.
"You sure I can't take that from you, Mr. DeTorres?" She offered. "Give ya a chance to go to the lavatory and freshen up?"
Emil's delighted demeanor dropped in an instant.
"Ask me that again and see if you don't wind up scrubbing urinals in Decatur, young lady."
The stewardess took a step back, her hand clutching at invisible pearls in shock. She'd seen her boss angry before, but he never directed any of that towards her. Never like this. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, sir... I didn't mean-"
The fire in Emil's eyes that had ignited seemingly out of nowhere disappeared just as quickly. His frown was hiding a mischievous grin, one desperately trying to break free. "Ppppfffftttttthahahahahahahahaha!"
The stewardess looked on, completely bewildered, "sir?"
DeTorres took her hand and apologized, "I do apologize, my dear child... I could not help myself... but your face! To answer your question, no… no, I'll hold onto it. I prefer to keep my little accomplices here where I can maintain a close eye on them." He finished his statement with a mischievous wink and the chuckle of a man with a secret.
The flight attendant let an awkward laugh slip, but only for appearances. DeTorres's cruel little prank had really rattled her. His words continued to resonate in her head, perhaps it was time to seek other employment. Her boss had to be losing it.
End Part 4
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 5-"Partners"
DeTorres's earth-shaking laughter eventually calmed, leaving Alex and Eva to slump back to the floor of the pet carrier in exhaustion. Emil's trademark stoicism returned, announcing his own need for rest with a long sigh. Each of the miniature women fought to recapture their breath in their respective corners. Surviving what was nothing but a fit of laughter from one of these giants had just proven to be has hazardous to their health as anything else. It took some time to let her nerves settle before Alex could speak. She peeked in Eva's direction, who was already staring back at her.
"Thank you," the tiny brunette huffed through her lack of breath, "for saving my life back there."
Eva panted back, letting her accent loose in all its glory, "T'wern't nothin', pardner!"
Alex let her head fall back against the bumpy texture of the acrylic cage, "look... I'm sorry. I know you're here to offer support. It's all... a lot. I'm not sure I could do it alone... I am glad you're here, Eva."
"Ah shucks, Alexandra... that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?" Eva joked. "Just don't expect me tah wipe up after ya when ya soil yerself, ya hear?"
Alexandra chuckled back, "deal. And call me Alex... I've always hated Alexandra. Sounds so tea and biscuits."
"You got it, Alex!" Eva beamed with an enthusiastic nod, so grateful to finally... perhaps... have another woman to talk to.
Alex's pack had come to rest at near her feet, so she leaned forward to slide it closer. The hot pink and translucent plastic gave the tote away as an obvious doll accessory. Perhaps Barbie... perhaps Bratz. Not exactly the stealthiest looking thing in the world.
"Sorry," Eva whispered, "it's the only one Mistah D had left. The others already staked out the ones they wanted a while back. I stuffed 'er with everything you'd need."
Though the bag's contents were visible through the plastic, Alexandra still unzipped the awkwardly large zipper and dumped everything out onto the floor. Her own set of matchsticks, a grapple and thread, basically the same items that Eva had shown her before their altercation, minus a few more specialized items. A folded set of black clothes, a pair of pants and a shirt were also included. Holding the long sleeve up in front of her, Alex could already tell they were way too big.
"Go on!" Eva nudged, "try 'em on!"
"I'm pretty sure I'll just be swimming in them," Alex replied.
Eva hadn't really thought about that, "oh... right. We can make some adjustments tonight after we get to Mistah D's place."
"Wanna cool it with the Mistah D stuff, Harley Quinn?" Alex snarked.
Her partner tilted her head like a confused puppy, "Harley Who?"
Alex rolled her eyes, "never mind." The last thing she pulled out of the bag were a pair of plastic doll shoes, ballet flats, but stiff as an icebox and way too large for her. She held them up so Eva could see, wordlessly inquiring as to what she was supposed to do with them.
"I know," the bubbly redhead admitted with a laugh, "Mistah... I mean... uh... our boss... his heart's in the right place. The dude is so meticulous about so many things, but then there's stuff where it's like he can't be bothered to care. I do t know about you, but I'm a barefoot girl anyway. Makes it easier fah climbing and there's less chance of the sucker yer gonna whack hearing you coming. Besides, ain't found a pair yet that were made for an actual human foot, ya know?"
"Can't imagine it comes up much," Alexandra replied, setting the black clown shoes aside. She looked back at Eva, a single question lingering in her mind. One she'd kept to herself, but had been wondering about since she'd first arrived. "So... what's your whole... deal, Eva?"
The peppy ginger raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the question, "wha'dya mean?"
Alex felt a little flustered by the question herself, "you know... like, how exactly did you end up in the human fishbowl? How are you so fucking happy all the time? Why are you so friendly with The Broker? I mean... the bastard shrank us! Shrank us! It's so insane! He keeps us in a terrarium like we're his fucking... pets!"
Eva scoffed and laughed all at the same time, waving Alex off as she did so. "It ain't like that at all, sweetie!"
Alex's brow furrowed, her gaze growing more intense. "It sure as hell is. I may have broken into his house in the first place, but all of this is just... beyond anything I ever thought could happen. I'd rather have done time in San Quentin. I didn't ask for this, and I'm sure you didn't either."
"No," Eva admitted, "I got caught, just like you. I didn't even know about the vault until after though. I didn't know who The Broker was. I was scrounging around on the streets of LA and his place was just another smash and grab, ya know?"
"Wait... what?" Alex asked, perplexed. "You broke into his home to steal... what? His tv?! Some silverware?! Ahaha! The greatest treasure ever known to man was right beneath your feet and you were after what? The fucking stereo system?! Hahahaha! That's rich!"
While Alex couldn't help but laugh, it was clear that Eva was being quite serious. "Hey! I was broke, ok! The building I was squatting in at the time was about tah get turned into condos for a buncha rich hipsters. Sorry if that makes me a big fuckin' joke!"
Alex pushed her urge to laugh out loud down as hard as she could. The cartoonish image of Eva in front of her, arms crossed at her chest and a pout souring her puss, wasn't making it any easier though.
"Ok, I'm sorry... but how did you end up like this if you didn't find the vault?"
Eva turned her head away, clearly feeling embarrassed about what she was about to say, "I didn't know about Mistah Rudolph. I didn't know he was home. The big gorilla caught me right off the bat. Instead of calling the cops, he tied me up and tossed me in a closet until his boss got home. I thought I was a goner! You read about creepy fucks out there just waitin' like trapdoor spiders for shit like that to happen!"
The tense scene Eva was painting was enough to stamp out any lingering desire Alex had to laugh at her partner's expense. "That sounds... terrifying."
"More scared than I'd ever been in my life," Eva agreed. "I thought I'd run into some real sickos, ya know? Perverts... cannibals... Scientologists... shit, I don't know!"
"What happened after that?"
"It was hours before Emil returned home. In that time I tried to free myself, but Alphonso's knots only seemed to get tighter the more I struggled. When Mistah D finally arrived, Alphonso dragged me out of the closet and presented me to his boss like I was a birthday present. They debated amongst themselves fer a bit, trying to decide what to do with me. Of course, it was always up to Mistah D in the end. He said something like, 'I could use more help downstairs,' ...so here I am."
"How the hell did they fit you and one of them in that tiny elevator?" Alex inquired.
Eva seemed a little puzzled by the question before the answer finally dawned on her, "oh, I never saw the vault before they shrank me. Mistah D had this long needle-type thing that blew some magic pixie dust in my face. It was awful, I couldn't breath. Did you-"
"Yup," Alex responded dryly. "Me too."
"Yeah, I was scared out of my mind! But after that, everything was fine."
"Everything was fine?!" Alex repeated in disbelief. "Look at us, Eva! We're the size of rodents! Locked inside a pet carrier! What exactly is fine about this?!"
Eva furrowed her brow, staring intently back at her partner, "I know you think I'm some dummy, Alex."
Alex cocked her head back, "I didn't say that!"
"You don't know me," Eva continued, "you don't know where I came from. I had to run away from home. My daddy... he... he did things. Bad things I don't to care to talk about. I had to get away."
Alex felt her stomach sink. She had a pretty good idea of what the woman meant, "oh... Eva... I'm so sorry."
"I had to put as much mileage between him and me as I could. That's how I ended up in California. Not exactly the land of opportunity the movies would have you believe, is it?"
"How old were you," Alex asked.
"Seventeen," Eva replied.
The smaller of the two gritted her teeth and gave her partner the most sympathetic look she could muster. "Jesus."
"It was hard out there on my own. Real hard. I did a lot of stuff I ain't proud of. You ever sucked cock for cereal money?"
Alex's head cocked back at the question.
"Well I have," Eva continued. "When I broke into Mistah D's, I was strung out and homeless. So yeah, this may not have been my choice... but here's the thing... he took care of me. He put a roof over my head and helped me get clean. I know ya won't unda'stand, Alex... and that's ok... but this is the best thing that's ever happened to me." Eva sniffled, realizing she'd been crying.
Even though the urge to argue her case persisted, Alex thought it best to bite her tongue this time. Eva may have been dealing with some version of Stockholm Syndrome, but who was she to deny what this broken woman in front of her truly felt.
Feeling embarrassed about getting emotional, Eva quickly changed the subject, "enough about me, what about you, pipsqueak? Tell me about yer kin."
Alexandra's apprehension was spelled all over her face. She'd worked so hard to conceal her family's existence that the thought of sharing anything about them felt like a betrayal. She raised her finger to her lips and gestured up to the looming giant, who could be heard sipping on his fresh cocktail above them.
"Oh come on," Eva pestered, "the cat's outta the bag. Tell me! What're they like? How'd you meet your husband?"
Alex had to think about whether or not Eva was correct. If DeTorres knew who they were, he certainly had access to anything he wanted to know about them. So yes, the cat was most certainly out of the bag. Besides that, she loved them. She wanted to talk about them so much it hurt. Forcing herself to keep them a secret had only made Alex realize just how much.
"Well... it's kind of a funny story actually..."
End Part 5
DeTorres's earth-shaking laughter eventually calmed, leaving Alex and Eva to slump back to the floor of the pet carrier in exhaustion. Emil's trademark stoicism returned, announcing his own need for rest with a long sigh. Each of the miniature women fought to recapture their breath in their respective corners. Surviving what was nothing but a fit of laughter from one of these giants had just proven to be has hazardous to their health as anything else. It took some time to let her nerves settle before Alex could speak. She peeked in Eva's direction, who was already staring back at her.
"Thank you," the tiny brunette huffed through her lack of breath, "for saving my life back there."
Eva panted back, letting her accent loose in all its glory, "T'wern't nothin', pardner!"
Alex let her head fall back against the bumpy texture of the acrylic cage, "look... I'm sorry. I know you're here to offer support. It's all... a lot. I'm not sure I could do it alone... I am glad you're here, Eva."
"Ah shucks, Alexandra... that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?" Eva joked. "Just don't expect me tah wipe up after ya when ya soil yerself, ya hear?"
Alexandra chuckled back, "deal. And call me Alex... I've always hated Alexandra. Sounds so tea and biscuits."
"You got it, Alex!" Eva beamed with an enthusiastic nod, so grateful to finally... perhaps... have another woman to talk to.
Alex's pack had come to rest at near her feet, so she leaned forward to slide it closer. The hot pink and translucent plastic gave the tote away as an obvious doll accessory. Perhaps Barbie... perhaps Bratz. Not exactly the stealthiest looking thing in the world.
"Sorry," Eva whispered, "it's the only one Mistah D had left. The others already staked out the ones they wanted a while back. I stuffed 'er with everything you'd need."
Though the bag's contents were visible through the plastic, Alexandra still unzipped the awkwardly large zipper and dumped everything out onto the floor. Her own set of matchsticks, a grapple and thread, basically the same items that Eva had shown her before their altercation, minus a few more specialized items. A folded set of black clothes, a pair of pants and a shirt were also included. Holding the long sleeve up in front of her, Alex could already tell they were way too big.
"Go on!" Eva nudged, "try 'em on!"
"I'm pretty sure I'll just be swimming in them," Alex replied.
Eva hadn't really thought about that, "oh... right. We can make some adjustments tonight after we get to Mistah D's place."
"Wanna cool it with the Mistah D stuff, Harley Quinn?" Alex snarked.
Her partner tilted her head like a confused puppy, "Harley Who?"
Alex rolled her eyes, "never mind." The last thing she pulled out of the bag were a pair of plastic doll shoes, ballet flats, but stiff as an icebox and way too large for her. She held them up so Eva could see, wordlessly inquiring as to what she was supposed to do with them.
"I know," the bubbly redhead admitted with a laugh, "Mistah... I mean... uh... our boss... his heart's in the right place. The dude is so meticulous about so many things, but then there's stuff where it's like he can't be bothered to care. I do t know about you, but I'm a barefoot girl anyway. Makes it easier fah climbing and there's less chance of the sucker yer gonna whack hearing you coming. Besides, ain't found a pair yet that were made for an actual human foot, ya know?"
"Can't imagine it comes up much," Alexandra replied, setting the black clown shoes aside. She looked back at Eva, a single question lingering in her mind. One she'd kept to herself, but had been wondering about since she'd first arrived. "So... what's your whole... deal, Eva?"
The peppy ginger raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the question, "wha'dya mean?"
Alex felt a little flustered by the question herself, "you know... like, how exactly did you end up in the human fishbowl? How are you so fucking happy all the time? Why are you so friendly with The Broker? I mean... the bastard shrank us! Shrank us! It's so insane! He keeps us in a terrarium like we're his fucking... pets!"
Eva scoffed and laughed all at the same time, waving Alex off as she did so. "It ain't like that at all, sweetie!"
Alex's brow furrowed, her gaze growing more intense. "It sure as hell is. I may have broken into his house in the first place, but all of this is just... beyond anything I ever thought could happen. I'd rather have done time in San Quentin. I didn't ask for this, and I'm sure you didn't either."
"No," Eva admitted, "I got caught, just like you. I didn't even know about the vault until after though. I didn't know who The Broker was. I was scrounging around on the streets of LA and his place was just another smash and grab, ya know?"
"Wait... what?" Alex asked, perplexed. "You broke into his home to steal... what? His tv?! Some silverware?! Ahaha! The greatest treasure ever known to man was right beneath your feet and you were after what? The fucking stereo system?! Hahahaha! That's rich!"
While Alex couldn't help but laugh, it was clear that Eva was being quite serious. "Hey! I was broke, ok! The building I was squatting in at the time was about tah get turned into condos for a buncha rich hipsters. Sorry if that makes me a big fuckin' joke!"
Alex pushed her urge to laugh out loud down as hard as she could. The cartoonish image of Eva in front of her, arms crossed at her chest and a pout souring her puss, wasn't making it any easier though.
"Ok, I'm sorry... but how did you end up like this if you didn't find the vault?"
Eva turned her head away, clearly feeling embarrassed about what she was about to say, "I didn't know about Mistah Rudolph. I didn't know he was home. The big gorilla caught me right off the bat. Instead of calling the cops, he tied me up and tossed me in a closet until his boss got home. I thought I was a goner! You read about creepy fucks out there just waitin' like trapdoor spiders for shit like that to happen!"
The tense scene Eva was painting was enough to stamp out any lingering desire Alex had to laugh at her partner's expense. "That sounds... terrifying."
"More scared than I'd ever been in my life," Eva agreed. "I thought I'd run into some real sickos, ya know? Perverts... cannibals... Scientologists... shit, I don't know!"
"What happened after that?"
"It was hours before Emil returned home. In that time I tried to free myself, but Alphonso's knots only seemed to get tighter the more I struggled. When Mistah D finally arrived, Alphonso dragged me out of the closet and presented me to his boss like I was a birthday present. They debated amongst themselves fer a bit, trying to decide what to do with me. Of course, it was always up to Mistah D in the end. He said something like, 'I could use more help downstairs,' ...so here I am."
"How the hell did they fit you and one of them in that tiny elevator?" Alex inquired.
Eva seemed a little puzzled by the question before the answer finally dawned on her, "oh, I never saw the vault before they shrank me. Mistah D had this long needle-type thing that blew some magic pixie dust in my face. It was awful, I couldn't breath. Did you-"
"Yup," Alex responded dryly. "Me too."
"Yeah, I was scared out of my mind! But after that, everything was fine."
"Everything was fine?!" Alex repeated in disbelief. "Look at us, Eva! We're the size of rodents! Locked inside a pet carrier! What exactly is fine about this?!"
Eva furrowed her brow, staring intently back at her partner, "I know you think I'm some dummy, Alex."
Alex cocked her head back, "I didn't say that!"
"You don't know me," Eva continued, "you don't know where I came from. I had to run away from home. My daddy... he... he did things. Bad things I don't to care to talk about. I had to get away."
Alex felt her stomach sink. She had a pretty good idea of what the woman meant, "oh... Eva... I'm so sorry."
"I had to put as much mileage between him and me as I could. That's how I ended up in California. Not exactly the land of opportunity the movies would have you believe, is it?"
"How old were you," Alex asked.
"Seventeen," Eva replied.
The smaller of the two gritted her teeth and gave her partner the most sympathetic look she could muster. "Jesus."
"It was hard out there on my own. Real hard. I did a lot of stuff I ain't proud of. You ever sucked cock for cereal money?"
Alex's head cocked back at the question.
"Well I have," Eva continued. "When I broke into Mistah D's, I was strung out and homeless. So yeah, this may not have been my choice... but here's the thing... he took care of me. He put a roof over my head and helped me get clean. I know ya won't unda'stand, Alex... and that's ok... but this is the best thing that's ever happened to me." Eva sniffled, realizing she'd been crying.
Even though the urge to argue her case persisted, Alex thought it best to bite her tongue this time. Eva may have been dealing with some version of Stockholm Syndrome, but who was she to deny what this broken woman in front of her truly felt.
Feeling embarrassed about getting emotional, Eva quickly changed the subject, "enough about me, what about you, pipsqueak? Tell me about yer kin."
Alexandra's apprehension was spelled all over her face. She'd worked so hard to conceal her family's existence that the thought of sharing anything about them felt like a betrayal. She raised her finger to her lips and gestured up to the looming giant, who could be heard sipping on his fresh cocktail above them.
"Oh come on," Eva pestered, "the cat's outta the bag. Tell me! What're they like? How'd you meet your husband?"
Alex had to think about whether or not Eva was correct. If DeTorres knew who they were, he certainly had access to anything he wanted to know about them. So yes, the cat was most certainly out of the bag. Besides that, she loved them. She wanted to talk about them so much it hurt. Forcing herself to keep them a secret had only made Alex realize just how much.
"Well... it's kind of a funny story actually..."
End Part 5
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 6-"Four Years ago, Thanksgiving Weekend"
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Imogene."
Alexandra took in the aging Victorian, upon who's porch she awkwardly waited. The way the yellow paint cracked and peeled on the columns, the way the foundation had settled unevenly over time, the ripples in the glass of the old, original windows. She'd journeyed through what felt like an infinite sea of wheat and sourgum to get to this door. New York City was a long way away.
"Ah, don't be like that, Alex. What were you gonna do, spend Thanksgiving alone in that empty apartment of yours?" Imogene tried her key in the lock, but it appeared that her parents had changed them recently. It had been quite some time since she'd been back home after all. She wrapped on the door a couple of times to get the occupants' attention.
The senior member of their partnership had rarely felt so out of place. Sure, she and the younger blonde had become good friends during her apprenticeship, but something about this felt strange. Imogene had a way of being persuasive, but inviting her home for Thanksgiving? Just what was she up to?
"Ok, just a few things before they come to the door," suddenly Imogene began to dump information on her partner like an overloaded garbage truck. "First, my parents are super religious. There's no alcohol allowed in the house. And don't swear or say anything too... progressive sounding."
"Huh? Progressive sounding?"
"You know," Imogene tried to clarify, "yuppie-New-York-liberal-commie-shit, as my dad likes to call it."
Alex cocked her head in disbelief, "pppfffttt...ok."
"Second, my mom's gonna ask you what denomination you belong to, just make something up."
"What the fuck, Imogene?! Are your parents fucking Quakers or something?" Alex joked.
"Oh, and lastly, my real name is Crystal."
"Wait, what-"
Just as Imogene dropped that atomic-sized bomb on her friend/mentor, the door flew open, revealing a pair of smiling, sweatered midwesterners. The woman... a short, grey-haired creature with thick glasses, opened her arms and wrapped them tightly around Imogene like a bear.
"Oh, sweetie! It's so good to see you! I'm starting to think you're avoiding your poor old parents!"
Imogene returned the hug, with a few light pats on her mother's back. "It's good to see you too, mom."
Her mother released the death grip she held on her daughter to allow Imogene's father to greet his progeny, "how you doin' there, Crystal-pistol? The big city's treating my baby girl well, I hope?"
Imogene hugged her father and replied, "it's great dad... I'm really learning a lot."
A laugh caught in Alexandra's throat, causing her to cough awkwardly amidst this sweet, Norman-Rockwellian family reunion. So much for first impressions.
"And just who is this lovely friend of yours, sweetie?" Imogene's mother asked in regards to the stranger gracing her threshold.
"Oh, how rude of me...," Imogene laughed with soft tap to her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Alexandra, this is my mother Marilyn and my father Charles. Mom... dad... this is my fiancé, Alexandra."
Before Alex had a chance to grace Imogene's latest hydrogen bomb with a well deserved what the fuck, the pretty blonde girl had already pressed her lips against Alex's and gently massaged her lips with her own. As shocking as this was, her friend's talent with her mouth was difficult to ignore.
When Imogene finally pulled away, Alex felt like her head was swimming. What the fuck just happened?! When her weakened knees found their strength again, Alex opened her eyes. Imogene was staring right back at her with an extremely mischievous glint in her eye.
The Simpsons stared back at their daughter, almost in as much of a state of shock as the stranger sucking face with her on their porch.
"Oh... well... um... what a pleasure it is to meet you, Alexandra. Won't you come in?" Marilyn offered, stepping aside and guiding the young "couple" into the house. May I take your coats?"
"Uh... yes... uh, thank you, ma'am," Alex replied, still lingering in a slight daze.
Marilyn disappeared down the hall with the coats, while Charles walked off into the kitchen, shouting back at his guests, "why don't you girls take a load off while I fix us some drinks. Nog and rum sound good?"
Imogene showed Alex to the couch and sat down next to her, putting her arm around her discombobulated friend and grinning from ear to ear.
Alex stared back with a look of bemused annoyance on her face, "nog and rum, huh? So all that bullshit you spewed back there... just blowing smoke up my ass?"
Imogene laughed, "ah, come on... you looked so nervous... I just wanted to bust your chops a little."
"I'd say busting my chops and shoving your tongue between them are two very different things, Imogene... Crystal... whoever the fuck you are. What the fuck was that?!"
Imogene sat back in the soft sofa a little more, spreading her arms across the back and crossing her legs to get more comfortable after the long drive. "Eh... I get tired of being asked every time I comeback here, 'when are you gonna bring a nice boy home? When are you gonna give us some grandbabies?'"
"So... I'm here just to fuck with your parents?" Alex scoffed, rubbing the palms of her hands across her face in embarrassment.
"Eh... yes... and no," Imogene replied. "I think I know you well enough to know you were just gonna sit around in your apartment eating KFC and watching Lifetime movies all weekend."
"And so what if I did," Alex laughed with a swift punch to Imogene's shoulder. Imogene did not yet know of Danielle's existence, something that had become increasingly difficult to conceal as the two women grew closer. Alex's daughter was staying with her grandparents for the holiday, somewhere the single mother wouldn't be caught dead for an entire four day weekend. Her own parents had a delightful knack for expressing how disappointed they were with her in so many new and creative ways.
"I just thought this would be more fun, for the both of us. We could pretend we're completely different people, just like you've been teaching me." Imogene coaxed.
"Oh, so this is about work then," Alex snarked back.
"Come on, if nothing else, you'll have a belly full of turkey and pass out on the couch while my dad watches the Chiefs lose." Imogene begged. As stated before, the girl had a way of being very persuasive.
Before Alex even had a chance to answer, Imogene's father entered the living room with a tray full of mixed drinks. "Here we go ladies... help yourself." Upon his entrance, Imogene took Alex's hand in her own to further sell their "relationship."
Marilyn also returned, taking a seat in the arm chair opposite Charles. "So, tell me everything! How did you girls meet?!"
"Yeah, sis. I'd like to hear this myself," a fifth member of the party entered the picture. An extremely handsome young man stepped out from around the wall that divided the kitchen from the front room. Thick locks of blonde hair, just like his sister. A square jaw, very much the quarterback type. He leaned against the wall, sipping at his own boozy cocktail, hardly looking old enough to partake. By the tone in his voice and the smirk on his face, he knew damn well what his sister was up to... and couldn't wait for her to give herself away.
Imogene glared sharpened daggers back at her brother, "hi, Braaaad."
"Well, go on then!" Marilyn prompted, eager to hear all the gory details.
Imogene began to speak, but Alex cut her off... ready to show her protege just how the game was played. "Through work, it's really not that impressive a story. No big romcom meet cute to speak of. We started talking over coffee in the break room... and... we just realized we really enjoyed each other's company." Alex then brushed a lock of Imogene's hair behind her ear and kissed the back of her hand as she held it.
Imogene smiled back at her fake fiancé, visibly pleased that Alex had decided to join in the game, then turned back toward the others, "I know, it's not the Notebook you want, mom... but that's the short of it. A lot of nights out in the city... even more spent in." Imogene's lively eyebrows bounced up and down like Groucho Marx.
"Crystal!" Marilyn feigned shock at her daughter's bluntness, but laughed just the same.
Charles patted his wife's hand, "she's a big girl now, hon... get used to it."
"Funny... you don't really seem like my sister's type," Bradley happily added his two cents. He could barely contain his laughter. He was going to make Crystal earn this. What else are little brothers for?
Imogene leaned forward, resting her chin on her knuckles, "and just what is my type, Braaaad?"
"Well... for starters... she isn't packing a dick!" He laughed.
Charles and Marilyn scolded their son's crass accusation in stereo, "Bradley!"
Alex leaned forward as well, a grin just starting to brighten her visage, "as far as you know, kid."
Brad didn't respond, he just casually backed behind the same wall he had emerged from, a look of smug satisfaction painted across his face.
"I'm so sorry, Alexandra... I don't know what's got into him!" The woman of the household got out of her seat, looking incredibly flushed and flustered. She threw her apron over the arm of the chair and stormed into the kitchen to whisper-shout at her son.
Charles had already downed his first of many rounds that night. He too got up, but only to refresh his empty glass. He didn't say anything, just raised his glass to the girls then followed his wife into the kitchen.
Imogene and Alex looked at each other and began to giggle like schoolgirls sharing a juicy rumor. While Imogene was already having a blast with their little game, Alex was just starting to think that this little trip might not be so bad after all.
Not with eye candy like Brad around anyway...
End Part 6
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Imogene."
Alexandra took in the aging Victorian, upon who's porch she awkwardly waited. The way the yellow paint cracked and peeled on the columns, the way the foundation had settled unevenly over time, the ripples in the glass of the old, original windows. She'd journeyed through what felt like an infinite sea of wheat and sourgum to get to this door. New York City was a long way away.
"Ah, don't be like that, Alex. What were you gonna do, spend Thanksgiving alone in that empty apartment of yours?" Imogene tried her key in the lock, but it appeared that her parents had changed them recently. It had been quite some time since she'd been back home after all. She wrapped on the door a couple of times to get the occupants' attention.
The senior member of their partnership had rarely felt so out of place. Sure, she and the younger blonde had become good friends during her apprenticeship, but something about this felt strange. Imogene had a way of being persuasive, but inviting her home for Thanksgiving? Just what was she up to?
"Ok, just a few things before they come to the door," suddenly Imogene began to dump information on her partner like an overloaded garbage truck. "First, my parents are super religious. There's no alcohol allowed in the house. And don't swear or say anything too... progressive sounding."
"Huh? Progressive sounding?"
"You know," Imogene tried to clarify, "yuppie-New-York-liberal-commie-shit, as my dad likes to call it."
Alex cocked her head in disbelief, "pppfffttt...ok."
"Second, my mom's gonna ask you what denomination you belong to, just make something up."
"What the fuck, Imogene?! Are your parents fucking Quakers or something?" Alex joked.
"Oh, and lastly, my real name is Crystal."
"Wait, what-"
Just as Imogene dropped that atomic-sized bomb on her friend/mentor, the door flew open, revealing a pair of smiling, sweatered midwesterners. The woman... a short, grey-haired creature with thick glasses, opened her arms and wrapped them tightly around Imogene like a bear.
"Oh, sweetie! It's so good to see you! I'm starting to think you're avoiding your poor old parents!"
Imogene returned the hug, with a few light pats on her mother's back. "It's good to see you too, mom."
Her mother released the death grip she held on her daughter to allow Imogene's father to greet his progeny, "how you doin' there, Crystal-pistol? The big city's treating my baby girl well, I hope?"
Imogene hugged her father and replied, "it's great dad... I'm really learning a lot."
A laugh caught in Alexandra's throat, causing her to cough awkwardly amidst this sweet, Norman-Rockwellian family reunion. So much for first impressions.
"And just who is this lovely friend of yours, sweetie?" Imogene's mother asked in regards to the stranger gracing her threshold.
"Oh, how rude of me...," Imogene laughed with soft tap to her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Alexandra, this is my mother Marilyn and my father Charles. Mom... dad... this is my fiancé, Alexandra."
Before Alex had a chance to grace Imogene's latest hydrogen bomb with a well deserved what the fuck, the pretty blonde girl had already pressed her lips against Alex's and gently massaged her lips with her own. As shocking as this was, her friend's talent with her mouth was difficult to ignore.
When Imogene finally pulled away, Alex felt like her head was swimming. What the fuck just happened?! When her weakened knees found their strength again, Alex opened her eyes. Imogene was staring right back at her with an extremely mischievous glint in her eye.
The Simpsons stared back at their daughter, almost in as much of a state of shock as the stranger sucking face with her on their porch.
"Oh... well... um... what a pleasure it is to meet you, Alexandra. Won't you come in?" Marilyn offered, stepping aside and guiding the young "couple" into the house. May I take your coats?"
"Uh... yes... uh, thank you, ma'am," Alex replied, still lingering in a slight daze.
Marilyn disappeared down the hall with the coats, while Charles walked off into the kitchen, shouting back at his guests, "why don't you girls take a load off while I fix us some drinks. Nog and rum sound good?"
Imogene showed Alex to the couch and sat down next to her, putting her arm around her discombobulated friend and grinning from ear to ear.
Alex stared back with a look of bemused annoyance on her face, "nog and rum, huh? So all that bullshit you spewed back there... just blowing smoke up my ass?"
Imogene laughed, "ah, come on... you looked so nervous... I just wanted to bust your chops a little."
"I'd say busting my chops and shoving your tongue between them are two very different things, Imogene... Crystal... whoever the fuck you are. What the fuck was that?!"
Imogene sat back in the soft sofa a little more, spreading her arms across the back and crossing her legs to get more comfortable after the long drive. "Eh... I get tired of being asked every time I comeback here, 'when are you gonna bring a nice boy home? When are you gonna give us some grandbabies?'"
"So... I'm here just to fuck with your parents?" Alex scoffed, rubbing the palms of her hands across her face in embarrassment.
"Eh... yes... and no," Imogene replied. "I think I know you well enough to know you were just gonna sit around in your apartment eating KFC and watching Lifetime movies all weekend."
"And so what if I did," Alex laughed with a swift punch to Imogene's shoulder. Imogene did not yet know of Danielle's existence, something that had become increasingly difficult to conceal as the two women grew closer. Alex's daughter was staying with her grandparents for the holiday, somewhere the single mother wouldn't be caught dead for an entire four day weekend. Her own parents had a delightful knack for expressing how disappointed they were with her in so many new and creative ways.
"I just thought this would be more fun, for the both of us. We could pretend we're completely different people, just like you've been teaching me." Imogene coaxed.
"Oh, so this is about work then," Alex snarked back.
"Come on, if nothing else, you'll have a belly full of turkey and pass out on the couch while my dad watches the Chiefs lose." Imogene begged. As stated before, the girl had a way of being very persuasive.
Before Alex even had a chance to answer, Imogene's father entered the living room with a tray full of mixed drinks. "Here we go ladies... help yourself." Upon his entrance, Imogene took Alex's hand in her own to further sell their "relationship."
Marilyn also returned, taking a seat in the arm chair opposite Charles. "So, tell me everything! How did you girls meet?!"
"Yeah, sis. I'd like to hear this myself," a fifth member of the party entered the picture. An extremely handsome young man stepped out from around the wall that divided the kitchen from the front room. Thick locks of blonde hair, just like his sister. A square jaw, very much the quarterback type. He leaned against the wall, sipping at his own boozy cocktail, hardly looking old enough to partake. By the tone in his voice and the smirk on his face, he knew damn well what his sister was up to... and couldn't wait for her to give herself away.
Imogene glared sharpened daggers back at her brother, "hi, Braaaad."
"Well, go on then!" Marilyn prompted, eager to hear all the gory details.
Imogene began to speak, but Alex cut her off... ready to show her protege just how the game was played. "Through work, it's really not that impressive a story. No big romcom meet cute to speak of. We started talking over coffee in the break room... and... we just realized we really enjoyed each other's company." Alex then brushed a lock of Imogene's hair behind her ear and kissed the back of her hand as she held it.
Imogene smiled back at her fake fiancé, visibly pleased that Alex had decided to join in the game, then turned back toward the others, "I know, it's not the Notebook you want, mom... but that's the short of it. A lot of nights out in the city... even more spent in." Imogene's lively eyebrows bounced up and down like Groucho Marx.
"Crystal!" Marilyn feigned shock at her daughter's bluntness, but laughed just the same.
Charles patted his wife's hand, "she's a big girl now, hon... get used to it."
"Funny... you don't really seem like my sister's type," Bradley happily added his two cents. He could barely contain his laughter. He was going to make Crystal earn this. What else are little brothers for?
Imogene leaned forward, resting her chin on her knuckles, "and just what is my type, Braaaad?"
"Well... for starters... she isn't packing a dick!" He laughed.
Charles and Marilyn scolded their son's crass accusation in stereo, "Bradley!"
Alex leaned forward as well, a grin just starting to brighten her visage, "as far as you know, kid."
Brad didn't respond, he just casually backed behind the same wall he had emerged from, a look of smug satisfaction painted across his face.
"I'm so sorry, Alexandra... I don't know what's got into him!" The woman of the household got out of her seat, looking incredibly flushed and flustered. She threw her apron over the arm of the chair and stormed into the kitchen to whisper-shout at her son.
Charles had already downed his first of many rounds that night. He too got up, but only to refresh his empty glass. He didn't say anything, just raised his glass to the girls then followed his wife into the kitchen.
Imogene and Alex looked at each other and began to giggle like schoolgirls sharing a juicy rumor. While Imogene was already having a blast with their little game, Alex was just starting to think that this little trip might not be so bad after all.
Not with eye candy like Brad around anyway...
End Part 6
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
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Rusco57
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Good story! I'm looking forward to more...
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Thank you! Plenty more to come
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 7-"Attatchments"
The ambient hum of the private aircraft, accompanied by the occasional jingle of melting ice in The Broker's glass made the flight feel eerily quiet compared to anything Alex had ever been used to. No babies crying, no middle-aged men in desperate need of a CPAP machine snoring next to her. The only conversation belonging to Eva and herself.
"...so... that's how Brad and I met. Even though I was supposedly there to be Imogene's date, I kept catching him making eyes at me over dinner. Or maybe he was catching me staring at him... I don't know. There was this unmistakable charge in the air... like we were being drawn to one another. I could feel it... I'm sure Brad did too. Imogene must have seen it as well, because after we ate she let me off the hook and revealed the big joke to her mother. That woman took it better than I would have, that's for damn sure. Just 'Crystal being Crystal,' her mom said as she laughed the whole thing off."
Eva was all ears, clearly starved for any kind of romance in her life. Sure she'd slept with most of the guys who'd been unfortunate enough to find their way into DeTorres's vault, but a few casual rolls in the shredded newspaper were no match for REAL love. "Woooow... then what? Did the two of you hook up in his parents' house?!"
"What?! No! Gross! It wasn't like that at all. I stayed through the weekend like I said I would, but instead of having to awkwardly canoodle with Imogene, Brad and I spent a lot of time just chatting on the couch. I could tell his sister had always been hell-on-wheels, but her brother was so... mature for his age. Smart, clever... the kind of guy that has a joke for any situation. I tried to fight it, but I'm sure I was head over heels in love with him before our long drive to the airport on Sunday morning."
"Wait a minute," Eva interrupted, "just how young was this guy?"
Alex blushed a little before responding, "I don't know... 19... maybe 20."
"And how old were you?"
The much smaller brunette seemed to shrink a even more, "29."
Eva erupted into laughter, "damn gurl! I didn't peg ya for a cradle-robber!"
Alex couldn't help but feel a little ashamed, but also kinda proud that she still had the goods to pull someone so young. "I know, I know. But everything about him just felt right. I've been with my fair share of men, but Brad was... different. He made me feel special. Not even the fact that I had a daughter scared him away. Dani loves him as if he were her actual father."
"You have no reason to feel weird 'bout it," Eva tried to assure her. "Hell, if you were a dude, no one would pay it a second thought. Love is love, my friend."
Friend.
Is that what she and Eva were now? Friends? Alex had a hard time accepting it, but kept that to herself. It might have been so much easier to accept the goofy southerner as such were she not so close with The Broker.
"We never even had a proper honeymoon. We took that short trip to Yellowstone sure, but Dani was with us... which is fine... but...," Alex trailed off.
Seeing that her partner was starting to get emotional, Eva took her hand and patted the back of it affectionately. "Did he know... you know... about what you do? The big, bad cat burglar that you are?"
"No," Alex replied, "not really anyway. He knew that what I did was morally.... ambiguous, and that I had to keep it a secret. It worried him, of course, but he never pressured me to be anything other than who I was... until that last job anyway. He was pretty worried about it. The irony of it all is... The Broker was going to be my last job."
Eva seemed surprised, "really?"
"Yeah... I only ever got into this line of work to take care of my daughter. I may not have planned to have her, but that didn't mean she wasn't my entire world. It's hard for single mothers to juggle parenting with a career, let alone the kind of work that's usually offered to us. My baby wasn't going to get everything she deserved with me pouring coffee and waiting tables."
Alex continued, "I was gonna do this one last job for Fulci and call it quits. After that, we could have gone anywhere... done anything we wanted." As the tiny woman brought her gaze to meet Eva's, a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Do you have any idea what it's like to find out you already had everything you'd ever needed... and to have lost it?"
Alexandra Clark had built up a fortress around herself in the name of protecting the ones she loved. Now that the walls had been breached, the emotions she'd been suppressing for two long years came pouring out. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the tears that kept coming, whether she liked it or not.
"What must they think of me?!" She sobbed. "Do they think I abandoned them?!"
Eva scooted in close, putting a cautious arm around her devastated partner. Much to her surprise, Alexandra accepted the gesture, burying her face into Eva's arm and unleashing the torrid of pain she'd been suppressing. It was hard to believe that just hours earlier, these two had been at each other's throats. Eva let Alex remain that way in silence for the remainder of the flight, only choosing to try and cheer the crying woman up after she'd quieted down a little.
"Come on... admit it, Mrs. Robinson... you liked playing cougar," Eva joked, which made Alex blow a snot-laugh right through her nose. She wiped the mucus that had been ejected at the same time from her upper lip across her forearm. She also tried to dry her moistened cheeks with the heels of her palms.
"Nah... not so bad at all," she quipped back.
The relief was short lived as the grief hit Alex once again. This time she managed to pull the it all back and place the feeling in its usual compartment, deep in the back of her mind. "Thank you, Eva."
"For what?"
"For listening," Alex replied.
Eva was about to wrap her other arm around the tiny mother, but both women were suddenly caught off guard by a tickling, weightless sensation in their guts. That feeling we all get when crowning a hill too fast in a car. Eva shot shakily to her feet and pressed her face through one of the cage's air holes.
"Is he standing up?" Alex inquired, choosing to remain safely seated.
Eva looked back to answer, "no... we're landing."
The flight attendant returned to check on her sole passenger for the final time. While a part of her was relieved to see her employer had returned to his usual quiet demeanor, another part of her was still on edge from their earlier interaction. "Is there anything else I can do for you before we land, Mr. DeTorres?"
Emil didn't hear her at first, too lost in his own thoughts. He stared out the window, resting his chin on his knuckles. Always the glutton for fresh gossip, he'd been eavesdropping on his tiny traveling companions, a gigantic fly on the wall if there ever was one. This Imogene Spaak, whom he had disposed with just a little over a week prior for an attempted robbery, was actually the sister-in-law to his very own Alexandra Clark?! While not the kind of man to outwardly express his surprise with a revelation such as this, he did find the irony of it all very amusing.
The stewardess cleared her throat in an attempt to get Emil's attention.
DeTorres didn't turn to acknowledge her, only remarking, "the world is getting smaller all the time, isn't it?"
The attendant felt her muscles tightening in nervous anticipation, "I'm sorry, sir... I... I'm not quite sure what you mean."
Emil snapped back into the present, smiling back at the well-meaning and attentive young woman, "oh... it's nothing, my dear... just the musings of an old man. I'm fine, thank you." With that, he set his glass down on her tray, slipped a hundred dollar bill beneath it, then returned his attention to the metropolis below. New York City, sprawling as far as the eye could see. He took a deep breath and huffed out a groaning... "I hate New York."
The stewardess returned to her station, relieved that the long, strange flight was almost over... but not as relieved as her aching feet were. She removed her phone from her purse and began to scroll through available job listings in her home city.
The plane touched down at JFK, where a black limousine with tinted windows was already waiting for DeTorres on the tarmac. The local mob and he had never been a friendly, to put it mildly, so he made sure to keep the walk between his plane and the car as short as possible.
The flight attendant stood up to show her respect to Mr. DeTorres as he exited the plane, catching a hint of motion coming from within his mysterious carryon item. It looked like a tiny arm... a human arm... hanging out of one of the air holes, with what certainly couldn't have been a miniature eye staring right back at her from another. There were even tufts of red hair protruding from the holes above the tiny winking eye. Much to her surprise, the little arm raised and waved goodbye to the dumbstruck stewardess. She waved back with a heavy arm and curled fingers out of some numbed-up sense of friendly obligation.
That was it. Fuck the pay. Fuck the benefits.
It was definitely time to move on to something else.
End Part 7
The ambient hum of the private aircraft, accompanied by the occasional jingle of melting ice in The Broker's glass made the flight feel eerily quiet compared to anything Alex had ever been used to. No babies crying, no middle-aged men in desperate need of a CPAP machine snoring next to her. The only conversation belonging to Eva and herself.
"...so... that's how Brad and I met. Even though I was supposedly there to be Imogene's date, I kept catching him making eyes at me over dinner. Or maybe he was catching me staring at him... I don't know. There was this unmistakable charge in the air... like we were being drawn to one another. I could feel it... I'm sure Brad did too. Imogene must have seen it as well, because after we ate she let me off the hook and revealed the big joke to her mother. That woman took it better than I would have, that's for damn sure. Just 'Crystal being Crystal,' her mom said as she laughed the whole thing off."
Eva was all ears, clearly starved for any kind of romance in her life. Sure she'd slept with most of the guys who'd been unfortunate enough to find their way into DeTorres's vault, but a few casual rolls in the shredded newspaper were no match for REAL love. "Woooow... then what? Did the two of you hook up in his parents' house?!"
"What?! No! Gross! It wasn't like that at all. I stayed through the weekend like I said I would, but instead of having to awkwardly canoodle with Imogene, Brad and I spent a lot of time just chatting on the couch. I could tell his sister had always been hell-on-wheels, but her brother was so... mature for his age. Smart, clever... the kind of guy that has a joke for any situation. I tried to fight it, but I'm sure I was head over heels in love with him before our long drive to the airport on Sunday morning."
"Wait a minute," Eva interrupted, "just how young was this guy?"
Alex blushed a little before responding, "I don't know... 19... maybe 20."
"And how old were you?"
The much smaller brunette seemed to shrink a even more, "29."
Eva erupted into laughter, "damn gurl! I didn't peg ya for a cradle-robber!"
Alex couldn't help but feel a little ashamed, but also kinda proud that she still had the goods to pull someone so young. "I know, I know. But everything about him just felt right. I've been with my fair share of men, but Brad was... different. He made me feel special. Not even the fact that I had a daughter scared him away. Dani loves him as if he were her actual father."
"You have no reason to feel weird 'bout it," Eva tried to assure her. "Hell, if you were a dude, no one would pay it a second thought. Love is love, my friend."
Friend.
Is that what she and Eva were now? Friends? Alex had a hard time accepting it, but kept that to herself. It might have been so much easier to accept the goofy southerner as such were she not so close with The Broker.
"We never even had a proper honeymoon. We took that short trip to Yellowstone sure, but Dani was with us... which is fine... but...," Alex trailed off.
Seeing that her partner was starting to get emotional, Eva took her hand and patted the back of it affectionately. "Did he know... you know... about what you do? The big, bad cat burglar that you are?"
"No," Alex replied, "not really anyway. He knew that what I did was morally.... ambiguous, and that I had to keep it a secret. It worried him, of course, but he never pressured me to be anything other than who I was... until that last job anyway. He was pretty worried about it. The irony of it all is... The Broker was going to be my last job."
Eva seemed surprised, "really?"
"Yeah... I only ever got into this line of work to take care of my daughter. I may not have planned to have her, but that didn't mean she wasn't my entire world. It's hard for single mothers to juggle parenting with a career, let alone the kind of work that's usually offered to us. My baby wasn't going to get everything she deserved with me pouring coffee and waiting tables."
Alex continued, "I was gonna do this one last job for Fulci and call it quits. After that, we could have gone anywhere... done anything we wanted." As the tiny woman brought her gaze to meet Eva's, a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Do you have any idea what it's like to find out you already had everything you'd ever needed... and to have lost it?"
Alexandra Clark had built up a fortress around herself in the name of protecting the ones she loved. Now that the walls had been breached, the emotions she'd been suppressing for two long years came pouring out. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the tears that kept coming, whether she liked it or not.
"What must they think of me?!" She sobbed. "Do they think I abandoned them?!"
Eva scooted in close, putting a cautious arm around her devastated partner. Much to her surprise, Alexandra accepted the gesture, burying her face into Eva's arm and unleashing the torrid of pain she'd been suppressing. It was hard to believe that just hours earlier, these two had been at each other's throats. Eva let Alex remain that way in silence for the remainder of the flight, only choosing to try and cheer the crying woman up after she'd quieted down a little.
"Come on... admit it, Mrs. Robinson... you liked playing cougar," Eva joked, which made Alex blow a snot-laugh right through her nose. She wiped the mucus that had been ejected at the same time from her upper lip across her forearm. She also tried to dry her moistened cheeks with the heels of her palms.
"Nah... not so bad at all," she quipped back.
The relief was short lived as the grief hit Alex once again. This time she managed to pull the it all back and place the feeling in its usual compartment, deep in the back of her mind. "Thank you, Eva."
"For what?"
"For listening," Alex replied.
Eva was about to wrap her other arm around the tiny mother, but both women were suddenly caught off guard by a tickling, weightless sensation in their guts. That feeling we all get when crowning a hill too fast in a car. Eva shot shakily to her feet and pressed her face through one of the cage's air holes.
"Is he standing up?" Alex inquired, choosing to remain safely seated.
Eva looked back to answer, "no... we're landing."
The flight attendant returned to check on her sole passenger for the final time. While a part of her was relieved to see her employer had returned to his usual quiet demeanor, another part of her was still on edge from their earlier interaction. "Is there anything else I can do for you before we land, Mr. DeTorres?"
Emil didn't hear her at first, too lost in his own thoughts. He stared out the window, resting his chin on his knuckles. Always the glutton for fresh gossip, he'd been eavesdropping on his tiny traveling companions, a gigantic fly on the wall if there ever was one. This Imogene Spaak, whom he had disposed with just a little over a week prior for an attempted robbery, was actually the sister-in-law to his very own Alexandra Clark?! While not the kind of man to outwardly express his surprise with a revelation such as this, he did find the irony of it all very amusing.
The stewardess cleared her throat in an attempt to get Emil's attention.
DeTorres didn't turn to acknowledge her, only remarking, "the world is getting smaller all the time, isn't it?"
The attendant felt her muscles tightening in nervous anticipation, "I'm sorry, sir... I... I'm not quite sure what you mean."
Emil snapped back into the present, smiling back at the well-meaning and attentive young woman, "oh... it's nothing, my dear... just the musings of an old man. I'm fine, thank you." With that, he set his glass down on her tray, slipped a hundred dollar bill beneath it, then returned his attention to the metropolis below. New York City, sprawling as far as the eye could see. He took a deep breath and huffed out a groaning... "I hate New York."
The stewardess returned to her station, relieved that the long, strange flight was almost over... but not as relieved as her aching feet were. She removed her phone from her purse and began to scroll through available job listings in her home city.
The plane touched down at JFK, where a black limousine with tinted windows was already waiting for DeTorres on the tarmac. The local mob and he had never been a friendly, to put it mildly, so he made sure to keep the walk between his plane and the car as short as possible.
The flight attendant stood up to show her respect to Mr. DeTorres as he exited the plane, catching a hint of motion coming from within his mysterious carryon item. It looked like a tiny arm... a human arm... hanging out of one of the air holes, with what certainly couldn't have been a miniature eye staring right back at her from another. There were even tufts of red hair protruding from the holes above the tiny winking eye. Much to her surprise, the little arm raised and waved goodbye to the dumbstruck stewardess. She waved back with a heavy arm and curled fingers out of some numbed-up sense of friendly obligation.
That was it. Fuck the pay. Fuck the benefits.
It was definitely time to move on to something else.
End Part 7
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 8-"A Countertop with a View"
The concrete and steel canyons of the city whizzed by the tinted windows of the limousine. Somehow, even from their shrunken perspective, the buildings in lower Manhattan didn't seem any different. Perhaps it was just the limited view the tiny pair had through their pet carrier portholes.
Eva pulled her face away from the puncture, one of a series of vented circles, each just big enough to fit a pencil through. "Never gets old, 'ey, pipsqueak?"
Even with the gruesome task she'd been handed deeply souring the homecoming, Alex still couldn't help feeling glad to see the city again. She backed away from the hole she'd staked out for herself, looking to give her partner a nod in agreement. When she saw Eva's face, she couldn't help but laugh. The goofy ginger had a red ring forming on her skin, one that circled most of her face from pressing her head too hard into the "porthole." Only the realization that she probably had one as well kept her from pointing it out.
"Hahahaha! You look like a Dalmatian!" Eva playfully mocked.
Damn, Alex cursed herself, bitch beat me to it.
The taller woman pressed her face back into her hole. "What part of the city did you hail from?"
"Queens," Alex replied, "but Brad and I were looking at places upstate once I got out of this life."
"Damn," Eva shook her head, "you sure got handed the shitty end of the stick."
"Tell me about it," it was all Alex could do to keep from breaking down again.
Eva slid down the wall of the carrier, resting her back against it. "I was born in Austin."
Alex chuckled a little, "couldn't have guessed."
Eva glared back at Alex, which resulted in an awkward pause.
"Your father still live there?" Alex inquired.
"Far as I know," the redhead replied. "Not that I care what the bastard does."
Another heavy pause fell upon the two as the limo passed through the heart of Times Square. Alex turned and slid down the wall herself, joining Eva on the floor. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
The little brunette took a big gulp before answering, "you know... take a life?"
"Oh! Well... there's lots of ways!" Eva seemed far too enthusiastic about the subject for Alex's taste. The bubbly girl began to ramble a mile a minute. "You can stab 'em... poison 'em... blow the pilot light out on their stove so their apartment fills up with gas. It's best to snuff 'em while they're sleeping, us being so tiny and all. There was this one guy who I set on fire in his own bed... I just-"
Alex looked pale as a ghost, she waved both of her hands in front of her to get Eva to stop. "No. No... that's not what I meant. I mean... how do you... get past it? It has to weigh on you... at least a little, doesn't it?"
"I try not to think about it too much."
"Really?!" Alex was less than convinced. "There's no way. Unless you're some kind of sociopath, there's no way it isn't affecting you."
Eva shot back, "look! I don't enjoy killing anyone! But whatever Mistah D asks me to do, I'm gonna do it! I'd do anything for him!"
"I'm not trying to upset you, Eva. I'm just trying to understand."
"Then understand this... if Mistah D asks me to steal the Crown Jewels, or rig an election, or whack your old boss... it's as good as done. I'm no one. Fucking street trash, but Mistah D sees value in me... Eva Hutch of all people!"
Alex backed off. She obviously wasn't going to get the answers she was looking for. Those were gonna have to come from experience. She was going to have to kill a man, one that she had known and laughed with for a very long time, but that wasn't what weighed on her at the moment. It was Eva. Through her relentless positivity, she just couldn't see the forest for the trees. She'd traded one abusive father figure for another, just... in a very different way.
"Almost there, my little friends," The Broker announced like crackling thunder.
Eva took the abrupt interruption as an out, "look... can we just not talk about this stuff anymore? I liked it better when we weren't fighting."
"Sure... you got, Eva."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DeTorres's penthouse served him as both a living space for his reluctant trips to the east coast, as well as an office to operate out of. In keeping with his tastes, the open floor layout was another throwback to 1960s style, complete with dark wood shelving units and a sunken living room.
Tossing his phone on the kitchen counter, Emil then opened a drawer next to the stove to retrieve a small hand towel. He laid it out flat on the counter, then set the pet carrier down on top to cushion the landing. No matter how careful he had been in the past not to make the experience too jarring for those within, his tiny servants always looked dazed after the carrier came down on a hard surface. He didn't hear any of the usual squeaks of shock this time, which told him his execution and been flawless. He pinched the dual latching mechanism on the gate, allowing the door to swing open.
Emil didn't wait for Eva and Alex to emerge, his attention had already been pulled away to one of his pricey Danish Modern side tables. With a quick swipe of his index finger across the lacquered walnut finish, he brought his hand closer to his face to inspect. Rolling the fine grains of dust between his forefinger and thumb, his already sour mood, gifted by the nightmarish New York traffic, only worsened.
"I'm obviously paying the housekeeping service more than they're worth if this is how they leave the place in my absence."
The two tiny women had already crept out of their travel confinement and were padding across the counter towards its edge. While Eva had been there many times before, this was Alex's first real view of the world outside of the vault vivarium. She peered over the precipice of the pale granite plain, feeling dizzied by the sharp drop and long fall. In the distance, her gigantic captor was cursing under his breath as he bounced from one unkempt piece of furniture to the next across a vast landscape of hardwood floors and eggshell white walls. Effortlessly moving from one hand crafted mesa to another, and doing so at speeds that seemed impossible for someone so extraordinarily huge.
But he wasn't huge at all. Alexandra was really... really... small. Even compared to someone as small as Eva, she was dwarf-like.
The confinement of the vivarium had been enough to perpetuate a sense of denial that Alex hadn't realized she'd conjured until that very moment. There were others there, while still larger than herself, but they too had met this strange fate. The vault was it's own world, separate from the real one... the one where she was actually only four inches tall. It was a lot to take in, and Alex felt herself growing dizzy.
Eva approached from behind and placed her hand on Alex's shoulder, gesturing to her partner to take a seat. Alex did as instructed and sat back a short ways from the edge of the overwhelming expanse, still watching DeTorres frantically wipe down his bookshelves as though he were possessed. Eva, on the other hand, plopped down on the edge of the counter and let her bare feet dangle beneath her.
"He does this every time," she laughed. "He'll calm right back down once he deals with this absolute pigsty," Eva was joking of course, as most would consider her boss's digs as clean as any laboratory.
Eva gazed back towards Alex, who was silently scanning her mammoth surroundings. The pendant lights dangling from above as though they were alien ships coming in for a landing ... the faucet arching its neck over the sink like a stainless steel dinosaur seeking to quench its thirst... the plastic plants on the countertop that rose over their heads in a shady canopy...
Not so dissimilar to DeTorres's Hollywood home, priceless gems and fossils adorned the main living space. A Canadian ammonite, glowing with all the colors of the rainbow, sat perched on a custom made base. A treasure so large that it may as well have been a flying saucer to Alex's shrunken eyes. An immense framed death plate of fossilized fish decorated the longest wall. A huge cluster of flawless quartz crystals sat in the middle of the coffee table, an incredible latticed structure that could have doubled as Superman's Fortress of Solitude. And then there was the centerpiece, sitting perfectly situated within the far off wall unit... an actual dinosaur skull! The room to someone as small as Alex may as well have been another planet.
"It's a trip, ain't it?" She laughed again. "Mistah D's pad is a far cry from the shithole I sprung up in, let me tell ya!"
Without warning, Alex doubled over and vomited onto The Broker's countertop. Her breathing quickened and the dizziness swirled with more intensity. As the wave of tension took even greater hold, Alex caught Eva's gaze, staring back at the larger woman with so much fear in her eyes.
"I... I... can't do this, Eva."
End Part 8
The concrete and steel canyons of the city whizzed by the tinted windows of the limousine. Somehow, even from their shrunken perspective, the buildings in lower Manhattan didn't seem any different. Perhaps it was just the limited view the tiny pair had through their pet carrier portholes.
Eva pulled her face away from the puncture, one of a series of vented circles, each just big enough to fit a pencil through. "Never gets old, 'ey, pipsqueak?"
Even with the gruesome task she'd been handed deeply souring the homecoming, Alex still couldn't help feeling glad to see the city again. She backed away from the hole she'd staked out for herself, looking to give her partner a nod in agreement. When she saw Eva's face, she couldn't help but laugh. The goofy ginger had a red ring forming on her skin, one that circled most of her face from pressing her head too hard into the "porthole." Only the realization that she probably had one as well kept her from pointing it out.
"Hahahaha! You look like a Dalmatian!" Eva playfully mocked.
Damn, Alex cursed herself, bitch beat me to it.
The taller woman pressed her face back into her hole. "What part of the city did you hail from?"
"Queens," Alex replied, "but Brad and I were looking at places upstate once I got out of this life."
"Damn," Eva shook her head, "you sure got handed the shitty end of the stick."
"Tell me about it," it was all Alex could do to keep from breaking down again.
Eva slid down the wall of the carrier, resting her back against it. "I was born in Austin."
Alex chuckled a little, "couldn't have guessed."
Eva glared back at Alex, which resulted in an awkward pause.
"Your father still live there?" Alex inquired.
"Far as I know," the redhead replied. "Not that I care what the bastard does."
Another heavy pause fell upon the two as the limo passed through the heart of Times Square. Alex turned and slid down the wall herself, joining Eva on the floor. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
The little brunette took a big gulp before answering, "you know... take a life?"
"Oh! Well... there's lots of ways!" Eva seemed far too enthusiastic about the subject for Alex's taste. The bubbly girl began to ramble a mile a minute. "You can stab 'em... poison 'em... blow the pilot light out on their stove so their apartment fills up with gas. It's best to snuff 'em while they're sleeping, us being so tiny and all. There was this one guy who I set on fire in his own bed... I just-"
Alex looked pale as a ghost, she waved both of her hands in front of her to get Eva to stop. "No. No... that's not what I meant. I mean... how do you... get past it? It has to weigh on you... at least a little, doesn't it?"
"I try not to think about it too much."
"Really?!" Alex was less than convinced. "There's no way. Unless you're some kind of sociopath, there's no way it isn't affecting you."
Eva shot back, "look! I don't enjoy killing anyone! But whatever Mistah D asks me to do, I'm gonna do it! I'd do anything for him!"
"I'm not trying to upset you, Eva. I'm just trying to understand."
"Then understand this... if Mistah D asks me to steal the Crown Jewels, or rig an election, or whack your old boss... it's as good as done. I'm no one. Fucking street trash, but Mistah D sees value in me... Eva Hutch of all people!"
Alex backed off. She obviously wasn't going to get the answers she was looking for. Those were gonna have to come from experience. She was going to have to kill a man, one that she had known and laughed with for a very long time, but that wasn't what weighed on her at the moment. It was Eva. Through her relentless positivity, she just couldn't see the forest for the trees. She'd traded one abusive father figure for another, just... in a very different way.
"Almost there, my little friends," The Broker announced like crackling thunder.
Eva took the abrupt interruption as an out, "look... can we just not talk about this stuff anymore? I liked it better when we weren't fighting."
"Sure... you got, Eva."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DeTorres's penthouse served him as both a living space for his reluctant trips to the east coast, as well as an office to operate out of. In keeping with his tastes, the open floor layout was another throwback to 1960s style, complete with dark wood shelving units and a sunken living room.
Tossing his phone on the kitchen counter, Emil then opened a drawer next to the stove to retrieve a small hand towel. He laid it out flat on the counter, then set the pet carrier down on top to cushion the landing. No matter how careful he had been in the past not to make the experience too jarring for those within, his tiny servants always looked dazed after the carrier came down on a hard surface. He didn't hear any of the usual squeaks of shock this time, which told him his execution and been flawless. He pinched the dual latching mechanism on the gate, allowing the door to swing open.
Emil didn't wait for Eva and Alex to emerge, his attention had already been pulled away to one of his pricey Danish Modern side tables. With a quick swipe of his index finger across the lacquered walnut finish, he brought his hand closer to his face to inspect. Rolling the fine grains of dust between his forefinger and thumb, his already sour mood, gifted by the nightmarish New York traffic, only worsened.
"I'm obviously paying the housekeeping service more than they're worth if this is how they leave the place in my absence."
The two tiny women had already crept out of their travel confinement and were padding across the counter towards its edge. While Eva had been there many times before, this was Alex's first real view of the world outside of the vault vivarium. She peered over the precipice of the pale granite plain, feeling dizzied by the sharp drop and long fall. In the distance, her gigantic captor was cursing under his breath as he bounced from one unkempt piece of furniture to the next across a vast landscape of hardwood floors and eggshell white walls. Effortlessly moving from one hand crafted mesa to another, and doing so at speeds that seemed impossible for someone so extraordinarily huge.
But he wasn't huge at all. Alexandra was really... really... small. Even compared to someone as small as Eva, she was dwarf-like.
The confinement of the vivarium had been enough to perpetuate a sense of denial that Alex hadn't realized she'd conjured until that very moment. There were others there, while still larger than herself, but they too had met this strange fate. The vault was it's own world, separate from the real one... the one where she was actually only four inches tall. It was a lot to take in, and Alex felt herself growing dizzy.
Eva approached from behind and placed her hand on Alex's shoulder, gesturing to her partner to take a seat. Alex did as instructed and sat back a short ways from the edge of the overwhelming expanse, still watching DeTorres frantically wipe down his bookshelves as though he were possessed. Eva, on the other hand, plopped down on the edge of the counter and let her bare feet dangle beneath her.
"He does this every time," she laughed. "He'll calm right back down once he deals with this absolute pigsty," Eva was joking of course, as most would consider her boss's digs as clean as any laboratory.
Eva gazed back towards Alex, who was silently scanning her mammoth surroundings. The pendant lights dangling from above as though they were alien ships coming in for a landing ... the faucet arching its neck over the sink like a stainless steel dinosaur seeking to quench its thirst... the plastic plants on the countertop that rose over their heads in a shady canopy...
Not so dissimilar to DeTorres's Hollywood home, priceless gems and fossils adorned the main living space. A Canadian ammonite, glowing with all the colors of the rainbow, sat perched on a custom made base. A treasure so large that it may as well have been a flying saucer to Alex's shrunken eyes. An immense framed death plate of fossilized fish decorated the longest wall. A huge cluster of flawless quartz crystals sat in the middle of the coffee table, an incredible latticed structure that could have doubled as Superman's Fortress of Solitude. And then there was the centerpiece, sitting perfectly situated within the far off wall unit... an actual dinosaur skull! The room to someone as small as Alex may as well have been another planet.
"It's a trip, ain't it?" She laughed again. "Mistah D's pad is a far cry from the shithole I sprung up in, let me tell ya!"
Without warning, Alex doubled over and vomited onto The Broker's countertop. Her breathing quickened and the dizziness swirled with more intensity. As the wave of tension took even greater hold, Alex caught Eva's gaze, staring back at the larger woman with so much fear in her eyes.
"I... I... can't do this, Eva."
End Part 8
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
- Shrink Master
- Posts: 834
- Joined: Tue Nov 10, 2020 10:36 pm
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 9-"Waterboarding"
"Hey... hey! Alex! Alex! Stay with me here!"
Eva leapt up from her seated position at the edge of the counter as soon as she saw Alex begin to teeter. Her reflexes weren't quite quick enough to catch the rookie before she fainted. Alexandra hit the side of her head on the smooth granite surface with enough force when she collapsed that she easily could have been concussed. Eva patted Alex's cheeks with her head rested in her lap, trying to keep the brunette from passing out.
"Come on now... stay awake! Alex?! Alex, can you hear me?!"
"What exactly are you two up to?" The Broker loomed over the diminutive women all of a sudden, drawn away from his obsessive cleaning by the commotion coming from the counter. He did not look pleased.
Eva looked up and answered, "she fainted... I think she hit her head pretty hard!"
"Pish-posh," Emil replied. His trunk-like fingers snatched Alex from the counter by her ankle and carried her over to the sink. He stared at the minuscule puddle of Alex's sick marring the black and white beauty of the expensive kitchen surface. "Have that cleaned up before I return!" He barked.
Eva looked down at the splattered pile of vomit. The smell of it was almost enough to make her purge as well. "Y-yes, sir."
The little redhead climbed back to her feet and scurried over to a structure that could easily pass for a silo at her size, but in reality was merely a roll of paper towels. After ripping off a sizable piece from the lower corner of the coarse sheets, she hurried back to the purged contents of Alex's stomach and let the 'extra-absorbent' claim on the product's packaging prove its worth.
Meanwhile, Emil dangled the inverted Mrs. Clark over the stainless steel basin of the sink, directly beneath the arching neck of the faucet itself. With a flick of his wrist against the handle, a fast moving column of cold water cascaded from the mouth like a hydraulic giant of the gold rush era. He held the shrunken woman in its flow, shocking her back into consciousness.
Alex was concussed. Dizzy, spaced out, and now she felt like she was drowning. She had no idea where she was or how she got there. Water was rushing up at her, or below her. Her equilibrium was so off that up and down no longer made sense. The cold water continued to bombard her without the ability to free herself from it. Her screams gargled in the onrush, so Alex began to kick wildly, finding that she couldn't even budge one of her legs. The cascade was relentless, pounding her tiny form like a fire hose.
As quickly as it came, the torrent disappeared and Alex felt herself rising... or perhaps falling. Her head was in such a spin that it was hard to tell. When she finally came to a stop, it was before the gigantic inverted face of The Broker. Upside down and helpless, his preferred means to intimidate a misbehaving employee.
"While I appreciate your efforts, Mrs. Clark... you will have to do better than this if you wish to alleviate yourself from your obligations."
The falling feeling returned and the countertop next to the sink rushed up to greet her. DeTorres deposited the little woman next to the sink, then returned to Eva and the mess she was tasked with cleaning. "Is that really the best you can do, child?"
Eva craned her neck to meet her boss's gaze, her eyes displaying her fear and shame. "I-I'm sorry... what-"
Before she could finish her nervous thought, a light mist smelling of chemical descended over the area. Emil had sprayed disinfectant from an enormous bottle without allowing Eva the chance to vacate the area first, paying little mind to splashing his ward with the strong smelling cleaner. His gigantic hand holding a full sheet of paper towel flashed in front of her like a passing car, wiping away the tiny puddle of sick. Eva backed away on the palms of her hands.
Over by the sink, Alex was still trying to catch her breath and make sense of the world spinning around her. Lucidity came and went. She stared down into the stainless steel pit, choosing to focus on the whirlpool descending into the drain in the center. To her left, on the wall, were a pair of switches... one of which had to control the garbage disposal.
In a brief moment of clarity, a dark thought came to mind.
Could she do it? If she jumped, Alexandra thought she might be just tall enough to flip the switch upward. After that, just a short dive into the rectangular sink. Sure, she might break a leg from the fall, but if she could just get to the drain before The Broker had a chance to stop her, perhaps she could end this living nightmare once and for all.
But she didn't. She couldn't. Not with Brad and her precious Danielle's lives on the line. The suicidal impulse faded as quickly as it came, and was forgotten about even quicker. Later on that night, Alex would remember glimpses of that moment. Just fractions of memories, but still deeply troubling. In such a compromised state of mind... would she have done it? So many questions followed...
Would DeTorres have still murdered her family out of spite?
Shit, would he have ordered Eva to carry it out?!
Alex rolled onto her back. The ceiling above her continued to spin. The room seemed to grow darker. Despite being soaking wet and freezing, she completely blacked out.
Eva pulled her knees to her chin and hid her face behind them as the manic giant finished wiping down the kitchen area. She wasn't used to catching the brunt of his disappointment. When DeTorres finally came down from his manic episode, he saw her sitting there, in the middle of the countertop, looking as pathetic and frightened as a trapped mouse. Guilt was not an emotion Emil grappled with often, but seeing Eva looking so pathetic, he could feel traces of it beginning to bubble up.
Seating himself at a bar stool directly in front of his miniature ward, DeTorres apologized. "Unfortunately, after all my many years on this Earth, I too am subject to the basest of human emotions from time to time. I did not mean to be so curt with you, child... and for that I do apologize."
Eva peaked above her knees, pouting at Emil with all her might. "You mean... you're not angry with me?"
"Oh, my dear, sweet Eva...," he cooed back, "if anything, it's you who should be disappointed in me."
Emil patted the top of her tiny head with the tip of his finger, and she playfully boxed at it like a trading bag, an affectionate gesture shared by them and them alone. They laughed about the ridiculousness of the situation. Until Eva suddenly sprung to her feet, having let her partner's well-being slip her mind for the briefest of moments.
"Oh fuck! Alex! Where's Alex?!"
End Part 9
"Hey... hey! Alex! Alex! Stay with me here!"
Eva leapt up from her seated position at the edge of the counter as soon as she saw Alex begin to teeter. Her reflexes weren't quite quick enough to catch the rookie before she fainted. Alexandra hit the side of her head on the smooth granite surface with enough force when she collapsed that she easily could have been concussed. Eva patted Alex's cheeks with her head rested in her lap, trying to keep the brunette from passing out.
"Come on now... stay awake! Alex?! Alex, can you hear me?!"
"What exactly are you two up to?" The Broker loomed over the diminutive women all of a sudden, drawn away from his obsessive cleaning by the commotion coming from the counter. He did not look pleased.
Eva looked up and answered, "she fainted... I think she hit her head pretty hard!"
"Pish-posh," Emil replied. His trunk-like fingers snatched Alex from the counter by her ankle and carried her over to the sink. He stared at the minuscule puddle of Alex's sick marring the black and white beauty of the expensive kitchen surface. "Have that cleaned up before I return!" He barked.
Eva looked down at the splattered pile of vomit. The smell of it was almost enough to make her purge as well. "Y-yes, sir."
The little redhead climbed back to her feet and scurried over to a structure that could easily pass for a silo at her size, but in reality was merely a roll of paper towels. After ripping off a sizable piece from the lower corner of the coarse sheets, she hurried back to the purged contents of Alex's stomach and let the 'extra-absorbent' claim on the product's packaging prove its worth.
Meanwhile, Emil dangled the inverted Mrs. Clark over the stainless steel basin of the sink, directly beneath the arching neck of the faucet itself. With a flick of his wrist against the handle, a fast moving column of cold water cascaded from the mouth like a hydraulic giant of the gold rush era. He held the shrunken woman in its flow, shocking her back into consciousness.
Alex was concussed. Dizzy, spaced out, and now she felt like she was drowning. She had no idea where she was or how she got there. Water was rushing up at her, or below her. Her equilibrium was so off that up and down no longer made sense. The cold water continued to bombard her without the ability to free herself from it. Her screams gargled in the onrush, so Alex began to kick wildly, finding that she couldn't even budge one of her legs. The cascade was relentless, pounding her tiny form like a fire hose.
As quickly as it came, the torrent disappeared and Alex felt herself rising... or perhaps falling. Her head was in such a spin that it was hard to tell. When she finally came to a stop, it was before the gigantic inverted face of The Broker. Upside down and helpless, his preferred means to intimidate a misbehaving employee.
"While I appreciate your efforts, Mrs. Clark... you will have to do better than this if you wish to alleviate yourself from your obligations."
The falling feeling returned and the countertop next to the sink rushed up to greet her. DeTorres deposited the little woman next to the sink, then returned to Eva and the mess she was tasked with cleaning. "Is that really the best you can do, child?"
Eva craned her neck to meet her boss's gaze, her eyes displaying her fear and shame. "I-I'm sorry... what-"
Before she could finish her nervous thought, a light mist smelling of chemical descended over the area. Emil had sprayed disinfectant from an enormous bottle without allowing Eva the chance to vacate the area first, paying little mind to splashing his ward with the strong smelling cleaner. His gigantic hand holding a full sheet of paper towel flashed in front of her like a passing car, wiping away the tiny puddle of sick. Eva backed away on the palms of her hands.
Over by the sink, Alex was still trying to catch her breath and make sense of the world spinning around her. Lucidity came and went. She stared down into the stainless steel pit, choosing to focus on the whirlpool descending into the drain in the center. To her left, on the wall, were a pair of switches... one of which had to control the garbage disposal.
In a brief moment of clarity, a dark thought came to mind.
Could she do it? If she jumped, Alexandra thought she might be just tall enough to flip the switch upward. After that, just a short dive into the rectangular sink. Sure, she might break a leg from the fall, but if she could just get to the drain before The Broker had a chance to stop her, perhaps she could end this living nightmare once and for all.
But she didn't. She couldn't. Not with Brad and her precious Danielle's lives on the line. The suicidal impulse faded as quickly as it came, and was forgotten about even quicker. Later on that night, Alex would remember glimpses of that moment. Just fractions of memories, but still deeply troubling. In such a compromised state of mind... would she have done it? So many questions followed...
Would DeTorres have still murdered her family out of spite?
Shit, would he have ordered Eva to carry it out?!
Alex rolled onto her back. The ceiling above her continued to spin. The room seemed to grow darker. Despite being soaking wet and freezing, she completely blacked out.
Eva pulled her knees to her chin and hid her face behind them as the manic giant finished wiping down the kitchen area. She wasn't used to catching the brunt of his disappointment. When DeTorres finally came down from his manic episode, he saw her sitting there, in the middle of the countertop, looking as pathetic and frightened as a trapped mouse. Guilt was not an emotion Emil grappled with often, but seeing Eva looking so pathetic, he could feel traces of it beginning to bubble up.
Seating himself at a bar stool directly in front of his miniature ward, DeTorres apologized. "Unfortunately, after all my many years on this Earth, I too am subject to the basest of human emotions from time to time. I did not mean to be so curt with you, child... and for that I do apologize."
Eva peaked above her knees, pouting at Emil with all her might. "You mean... you're not angry with me?"
"Oh, my dear, sweet Eva...," he cooed back, "if anything, it's you who should be disappointed in me."
Emil patted the top of her tiny head with the tip of his finger, and she playfully boxed at it like a trading bag, an affectionate gesture shared by them and them alone. They laughed about the ridiculousness of the situation. Until Eva suddenly sprung to her feet, having let her partner's well-being slip her mind for the briefest of moments.
"Oh fuck! Alex! Where's Alex?!"
End Part 9
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 10-"Miso Soup"
When Alex finally came to, it was with a waking gasp. The last few hours were blur, or completely absent from her conscious mind. In fact, most of the day had been knocked out of her memory, with only slivers of memory left to piece together what happened. Oddly enough, she felt more comfortable than she had in quite some time. The softness of the bed she was lying in felt cozy and enticing, like she never wanted to leave the safe warmth it provided. But it couldn't actually be a bed, could it?
"Hey... hey there," Eva whispered. "Take 'er easy, ok."
Alex wanted to sink even further into the plush fabric at the sound of Eva's voice. Whatever had happened that afternoon, she was still caught up in this horrible mess. She tried sitting up, but quickly realized something else quite jarring...
"Um... Eva? Where the fuck are my clothes?"
Eva tried to calm her confounded associate as best as she could, "it's ok, just relax. Your clothes were wet, so Mistah D dried them off with a blow dryer. He's in the dinning room having supper right now, I'm sure he'll bring 'em when he's finished."
A flash of a thought... or perhaps a memory... intruded. Alex wasn't sure what she was picturing, but it frightened her. Just a fraction of a second, but as intense a moment as she'd ever experienced. There she was, dangling upside down... yet drowning. And then it was gone. She tried to shake the feeling off, but event lingered there in the back of her mind.
While Alex couldn't remember undressing herself, she hoped that it had been Eva to do so and not DeTorres. The thought of his long, spindly fingers undraping her helpless body sent a chill down her spine. Once again, she tried to sit up, clutching the blanket to her chest to preserve a litltle modesty... the blanket being nothing more than a hand towel that had been folded into a makeshift sleeping bag. She'd moved much too quickly, which in turn sent a sudden wave of throbbing pain and dizziness to the forefront of her skull.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuck! My head!" Alex groaned. "What happened?" She'd had her fair share of hangovers, but this shit was unreal.
"You fainted," Eva replied, "hit your head. I got pretty worried 'bout ya there for a while. My momma always said not to let someone sleep if'n they bumped their noggin' real hard."
"That's a myth," Alex informed her southern accomplice. "Wait... fainted?!" The smaller woman was as surprised by this as her state of undress. "Fuck that! I've never fainted before in my life! That shit's for damsels in Dracula movies."
Eva shrugged, then picked up a thin, rectangular object. It was wavy and brittle, as evidenced by how easily the taller redhead was able to break a portion of it away. She dipped the smaller, palm-sized portion into a brown liquid that filled the basin of an enormous soup spoon, just above the head of Alex's bed. She let the object moisten for a moment, then shook off any remaining liquid that might drip onto her obsessive-compulsive boss's furniture.
"Here," she said softly, extending the soggy mystery object towards the sickly brunette, "you should try an' eat sumthin'. It's spicy miso... pretty good. Sorry it's not very warm now. Food never seems to stay warm very long when the portions are small enough for people our size, does it?"
Alex accepted the item, quickly realizing that the soup-moistened morsel was actually a large crispy noodle. A testing nibble proved that Eva was right, despite it being cold, the soup was quite flavorful. She took another bite, meanwhile still trying to map out where her lost time had gone.
"It's a kicker," Eva began, "seeing the world outside Mistah D's vault for the first time." She sat down next to Alex with her legs crossed in front of her. Her partner had finished her first serving, so she dipped another piece of noodle into the broth and handed it over. "Seeing just how much things have really changed for us. I'm sure it was a bit much to process all at once. I mean, no wonder you fainted!"
"I didn't faint," Alex grumbled in embarrassment.
"Trust me," Eva continued, "I been out dozens of times and I still get lightheaded having to look up at everything."
The nautilus-like fossil with the rainbow mother of pearl towered over the the tiny pair. Even in the darkened room, the ammonite was quite the stunning specimen. Still distant from their perspectives, but closer, and much higher than where Alex first eyed the gemmy relic from on top of the counter. The thieving part of her brain was occasionally difficult to shut off. She wondered, albeit briefly, about how much she get for it on the black market. Not that she could have moved the thing at her greatly reduced size. It's beautiful swirling iridescence of greens and blues, reds and purples made it an easy point for Alex to focus on while trying to fight through the vision-blurring migraine.
"Where are we now?" She inquired.
"The coffee table," Eva replied.
Alex twisted her neck to find that the impressive quartz crystal cluster she'd seen earlier was rising up behind her like a silicate iceberg. Again her mind wandered, pondering whether or not there could be somewhere to hide herself within its many glass-like facets. Would DeTorres even think to look for her there? And again, she found herself wondering how much it was worth.
The sound of a faucet turning on in the kitchen, and the roar of water that accompanied it, caught the attention of the two tiny women. Emil had finished his meal and was promptly washing his bowl and silverware. The wrap around bar/counter that separated the kitchen area from the living room obscured much of their view of the strange man. Alex was only able to see his head bobbing around as he quietly hummed a tune she didn't recognize. After drying the plate and wiping his hands, Emil made his way around the island and flicked on the living room light switch before entering.
Alex winced at the blinding overhead lighting, pulling the covers back over her head. "Shut it off, for Christ Sakes!"
"Ah! I see the wilting lily has decided to rejoin us," quipped Emil.
"Shut em off!" She screamed again. The bright lights made her head hurt so bad that she suddenly grew nauseous again.
Seeing Alex's distress, Eva sprung to her feet and pleaded with her boss, "um... Mistah D... could you maybe shut off the lights? Her head is still in pretty bad shape!"
Emil looked down at the puny redhead and rolled his eyes, "very well." He clicked the switch into the off position, but moved towards a sculptural mid-century lamp resting on a side table and pulled its cord instead. While it didn't offer much light, he certainly wasn't going to engage in a conversation whilst sitting in darkness.
"Is that better, Mrs. Clark? Perhaps I could have a masseuse sent up for a mud mask and a foot rub?" He teased. "I'd hate for my little houseguest to feel unaccommodated."
Alex flipped the edge of her blanket back down and glared at DeTorres with daggers in her eyes, "oh, fuck off, Emil!"
"Aaaawww," he continued to tease, "baby's woke from her nappy-wappy in a gwumpy mood, I see." He followed his latest taunt with an overly expressive and mocking fwown... I mean frown.
Alex groaned in response and hid herself beneath the covers once again.
"I do hope you've put that little performance behind you, Mrs. Clark. We have much business to discuss."
Alex groaned again, wishing she had enough size back to land a right hook in his smarmy face. Her protests were muffled by the thick fabric of the washcloth.
"I'm sorry, I seem to have missed that... what did you say, Mrs. Clark?"
"Mistah D?" Eva interrupted, "perhaps we could... uh... wait until morning to go over the plan? She's still not looking very good. I think it'd be a might hard for her to concentrate with a whole rodeo stampeding through her brain. Can you give her a little more time?"
DeTorres side-eyed his tiny apprentice, regarding her for a silent moment. "Alright then, Ms. Hutch. As you wish. I find it curious why you continue to stick your neck out for this one, though." He scratched at the corner of his pencil-thin mustache while pondering the two of them for another moment longer, then shrugged his own inquiry away. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Rest up, you two. You officially have the evening off, but we discuss strategy first thing in the morning, headache or no. Is this understood?"
"Yes, sir... thank you, sir!" Eva clasped her hands together at her waist and smiled back coyly, "face it, boss... you just can't say no to cute lil' ol' me." She winked at her master, then blew him a thankful kiss.
"Hmmmm," Emil replied, standing from his stylish vintage chair and approaching the coffee table. He placed his hands on his hips and let the building-like shadow of his titanic frame fall over the miniaturized women in his care. Even Eva took a step back at this gesture of intimidation.
But then something strange happened...
Emil kissed the tip of his finger, then brought it down and rubbed it into the top of Eva's head. A display of tenderness Alex had never seen from the man, nor thought him capable of. He really did seem to care about Eva, even if his affections were solely those of a master for his dog. "You do make it quite difficult sometimes, my dear girl. I certainly wouldn't surrender my intentions to the likes of the others back home, or even the ailing Mrs. Clark here for that matter. Not the way I do with you."
Eva grinned and nodded and Emil grinned back at her. He then turned and headed off to his bedroom for an early bedtime. "Bright and early, you two. Do not forget."
Eva saluted him cartoonishly before he disappeared down the hallway.
"Thank you for that," Alex moaned, emerging from beneath the covers once again.
"Hey, what are friends for?" She replied.
There it was again. That word... friend.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Alex asked. "I've never been anything but shitty to you... to everyone really, back in the vault I mean."
"Momma always told me, 'Eva... you gonna catch more flies with sugar than with salt.'"
"Your momma sounds like Forrest Gump," Alex joked.
"Is that a politician or sumptin'?"
Alex shook her head, "never mind."
"Had no idea what the hell the woman was talking about until I got older," Eva laughed. "I mean, why the fuck would anyone want to attract flies, ya know?"
"Hey now," Alex mocked offense, "I may be small, but I'm still bigger than a fly!"
The pair shared a laugh, but only briefly as the act of doing so made Alex's headache throb even worse. Letting the tensions leave her body, starting at the tip soft her toes and going limb by limb, Alex was going to appreciate this break from the insanity that her life had become, if only for one night. Eva still sat by the bed, taking one last nibble of a crispy noodle before turning in herself. Alex scooted over, making enough room for both of them in the bed.
"Really?" Eva seemed shocked. "You sure?"
"You've done more to earn a good night's sleep than I have today." Alex patted the fabric, jokingly raising her eyebrows in a seductive manner. "Plenty of room for both of us, Big Red."
"Alright," Eva said, accepting the offer by crawling in next to the smaller woman, "just try and keep your hands to yourself if'n you can... the doors to this saloon only swing one way, if'n ya catch my drift."
Alex rolled onto her back and chuckled again, "goddamnit, Eva! Quit making me laugh! It's killing me!"
"Sorry," she chuckled back.
The two laid there wordlessly for some time after that, both staring up at the ceiling far above them like they were gazing at stars. Alex, deep in thought and trying to come to terms with what she was about to do; and Eva, who felt content getting to see a glimpse of the woman Alex once was. The loving wife and mother with a sense of humor. Not the cold, distant mask that she'd worn since the day she'd arrived.
"It does get to me sometimes, you know," Eva said, seemingly out of nowhere.
Alex turned her head to face the larger girl, "I'm sorry?"
"The killing," Eva clarified, "you asked me earlier if it ever gets to me. It does."
Alex turned onto her side, giving Eva her full attention, "so how do you deal with it?"
"I don't," she replied. "It's like... it's like there's a box inside my head. I try to lock all the bad stuff up inside it. Lately it... it just seems like it's getting so full I can't keep the lid shut. Does that make sense?"
Alex knew exactly what she was talking about, "more than you'll ever know."
"I want to be the person Mistah D wants me to be... and I really do want to make him happy," Eva continued. "He really is like a father to me."
Alex could sense more to Eva's words underneath the surface, "but..."
Eva turned onto her side as well, both now face to face, completely open and vulnerable to one another. "But... sometimes, when I'm alone... like in bed like this, or in the tub... you know, when it's just you and your thoughts? I'll just start crying. When it happens... I can't stop... and I don't know why."
A tear trickled out of the corner of Eva's eye, soaking into the washcloth upon contact. Like Alexandra, she too had built up walls to cope with her situation. Saying these things out loud, laying her secret feelings and worries out to Alexandra, it was the first time Eva had truly realized these things for herself. Alex recognized the pent up emotional strain, as she too had more stored away than she could bear at times. She took Eva's hand in her own. It felt so large and strong against the frailness of her own tiny fingers... yet Eva's hand trembled.
Alex looked into Eva's eyes as tears began to form in her own, "thank you for telling me... and thank you for being here."
End Part 10
When Alex finally came to, it was with a waking gasp. The last few hours were blur, or completely absent from her conscious mind. In fact, most of the day had been knocked out of her memory, with only slivers of memory left to piece together what happened. Oddly enough, she felt more comfortable than she had in quite some time. The softness of the bed she was lying in felt cozy and enticing, like she never wanted to leave the safe warmth it provided. But it couldn't actually be a bed, could it?
"Hey... hey there," Eva whispered. "Take 'er easy, ok."
Alex wanted to sink even further into the plush fabric at the sound of Eva's voice. Whatever had happened that afternoon, she was still caught up in this horrible mess. She tried sitting up, but quickly realized something else quite jarring...
"Um... Eva? Where the fuck are my clothes?"
Eva tried to calm her confounded associate as best as she could, "it's ok, just relax. Your clothes were wet, so Mistah D dried them off with a blow dryer. He's in the dinning room having supper right now, I'm sure he'll bring 'em when he's finished."
A flash of a thought... or perhaps a memory... intruded. Alex wasn't sure what she was picturing, but it frightened her. Just a fraction of a second, but as intense a moment as she'd ever experienced. There she was, dangling upside down... yet drowning. And then it was gone. She tried to shake the feeling off, but event lingered there in the back of her mind.
While Alex couldn't remember undressing herself, she hoped that it had been Eva to do so and not DeTorres. The thought of his long, spindly fingers undraping her helpless body sent a chill down her spine. Once again, she tried to sit up, clutching the blanket to her chest to preserve a litltle modesty... the blanket being nothing more than a hand towel that had been folded into a makeshift sleeping bag. She'd moved much too quickly, which in turn sent a sudden wave of throbbing pain and dizziness to the forefront of her skull.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuck! My head!" Alex groaned. "What happened?" She'd had her fair share of hangovers, but this shit was unreal.
"You fainted," Eva replied, "hit your head. I got pretty worried 'bout ya there for a while. My momma always said not to let someone sleep if'n they bumped their noggin' real hard."
"That's a myth," Alex informed her southern accomplice. "Wait... fainted?!" The smaller woman was as surprised by this as her state of undress. "Fuck that! I've never fainted before in my life! That shit's for damsels in Dracula movies."
Eva shrugged, then picked up a thin, rectangular object. It was wavy and brittle, as evidenced by how easily the taller redhead was able to break a portion of it away. She dipped the smaller, palm-sized portion into a brown liquid that filled the basin of an enormous soup spoon, just above the head of Alex's bed. She let the object moisten for a moment, then shook off any remaining liquid that might drip onto her obsessive-compulsive boss's furniture.
"Here," she said softly, extending the soggy mystery object towards the sickly brunette, "you should try an' eat sumthin'. It's spicy miso... pretty good. Sorry it's not very warm now. Food never seems to stay warm very long when the portions are small enough for people our size, does it?"
Alex accepted the item, quickly realizing that the soup-moistened morsel was actually a large crispy noodle. A testing nibble proved that Eva was right, despite it being cold, the soup was quite flavorful. She took another bite, meanwhile still trying to map out where her lost time had gone.
"It's a kicker," Eva began, "seeing the world outside Mistah D's vault for the first time." She sat down next to Alex with her legs crossed in front of her. Her partner had finished her first serving, so she dipped another piece of noodle into the broth and handed it over. "Seeing just how much things have really changed for us. I'm sure it was a bit much to process all at once. I mean, no wonder you fainted!"
"I didn't faint," Alex grumbled in embarrassment.
"Trust me," Eva continued, "I been out dozens of times and I still get lightheaded having to look up at everything."
The nautilus-like fossil with the rainbow mother of pearl towered over the the tiny pair. Even in the darkened room, the ammonite was quite the stunning specimen. Still distant from their perspectives, but closer, and much higher than where Alex first eyed the gemmy relic from on top of the counter. The thieving part of her brain was occasionally difficult to shut off. She wondered, albeit briefly, about how much she get for it on the black market. Not that she could have moved the thing at her greatly reduced size. It's beautiful swirling iridescence of greens and blues, reds and purples made it an easy point for Alex to focus on while trying to fight through the vision-blurring migraine.
"Where are we now?" She inquired.
"The coffee table," Eva replied.
Alex twisted her neck to find that the impressive quartz crystal cluster she'd seen earlier was rising up behind her like a silicate iceberg. Again her mind wandered, pondering whether or not there could be somewhere to hide herself within its many glass-like facets. Would DeTorres even think to look for her there? And again, she found herself wondering how much it was worth.
The sound of a faucet turning on in the kitchen, and the roar of water that accompanied it, caught the attention of the two tiny women. Emil had finished his meal and was promptly washing his bowl and silverware. The wrap around bar/counter that separated the kitchen area from the living room obscured much of their view of the strange man. Alex was only able to see his head bobbing around as he quietly hummed a tune she didn't recognize. After drying the plate and wiping his hands, Emil made his way around the island and flicked on the living room light switch before entering.
Alex winced at the blinding overhead lighting, pulling the covers back over her head. "Shut it off, for Christ Sakes!"
"Ah! I see the wilting lily has decided to rejoin us," quipped Emil.
"Shut em off!" She screamed again. The bright lights made her head hurt so bad that she suddenly grew nauseous again.
Seeing Alex's distress, Eva sprung to her feet and pleaded with her boss, "um... Mistah D... could you maybe shut off the lights? Her head is still in pretty bad shape!"
Emil looked down at the puny redhead and rolled his eyes, "very well." He clicked the switch into the off position, but moved towards a sculptural mid-century lamp resting on a side table and pulled its cord instead. While it didn't offer much light, he certainly wasn't going to engage in a conversation whilst sitting in darkness.
"Is that better, Mrs. Clark? Perhaps I could have a masseuse sent up for a mud mask and a foot rub?" He teased. "I'd hate for my little houseguest to feel unaccommodated."
Alex flipped the edge of her blanket back down and glared at DeTorres with daggers in her eyes, "oh, fuck off, Emil!"
"Aaaawww," he continued to tease, "baby's woke from her nappy-wappy in a gwumpy mood, I see." He followed his latest taunt with an overly expressive and mocking fwown... I mean frown.
Alex groaned in response and hid herself beneath the covers once again.
"I do hope you've put that little performance behind you, Mrs. Clark. We have much business to discuss."
Alex groaned again, wishing she had enough size back to land a right hook in his smarmy face. Her protests were muffled by the thick fabric of the washcloth.
"I'm sorry, I seem to have missed that... what did you say, Mrs. Clark?"
"Mistah D?" Eva interrupted, "perhaps we could... uh... wait until morning to go over the plan? She's still not looking very good. I think it'd be a might hard for her to concentrate with a whole rodeo stampeding through her brain. Can you give her a little more time?"
DeTorres side-eyed his tiny apprentice, regarding her for a silent moment. "Alright then, Ms. Hutch. As you wish. I find it curious why you continue to stick your neck out for this one, though." He scratched at the corner of his pencil-thin mustache while pondering the two of them for another moment longer, then shrugged his own inquiry away. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Rest up, you two. You officially have the evening off, but we discuss strategy first thing in the morning, headache or no. Is this understood?"
"Yes, sir... thank you, sir!" Eva clasped her hands together at her waist and smiled back coyly, "face it, boss... you just can't say no to cute lil' ol' me." She winked at her master, then blew him a thankful kiss.
"Hmmmm," Emil replied, standing from his stylish vintage chair and approaching the coffee table. He placed his hands on his hips and let the building-like shadow of his titanic frame fall over the miniaturized women in his care. Even Eva took a step back at this gesture of intimidation.
But then something strange happened...
Emil kissed the tip of his finger, then brought it down and rubbed it into the top of Eva's head. A display of tenderness Alex had never seen from the man, nor thought him capable of. He really did seem to care about Eva, even if his affections were solely those of a master for his dog. "You do make it quite difficult sometimes, my dear girl. I certainly wouldn't surrender my intentions to the likes of the others back home, or even the ailing Mrs. Clark here for that matter. Not the way I do with you."
Eva grinned and nodded and Emil grinned back at her. He then turned and headed off to his bedroom for an early bedtime. "Bright and early, you two. Do not forget."
Eva saluted him cartoonishly before he disappeared down the hallway.
"Thank you for that," Alex moaned, emerging from beneath the covers once again.
"Hey, what are friends for?" She replied.
There it was again. That word... friend.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Alex asked. "I've never been anything but shitty to you... to everyone really, back in the vault I mean."
"Momma always told me, 'Eva... you gonna catch more flies with sugar than with salt.'"
"Your momma sounds like Forrest Gump," Alex joked.
"Is that a politician or sumptin'?"
Alex shook her head, "never mind."
"Had no idea what the hell the woman was talking about until I got older," Eva laughed. "I mean, why the fuck would anyone want to attract flies, ya know?"
"Hey now," Alex mocked offense, "I may be small, but I'm still bigger than a fly!"
The pair shared a laugh, but only briefly as the act of doing so made Alex's headache throb even worse. Letting the tensions leave her body, starting at the tip soft her toes and going limb by limb, Alex was going to appreciate this break from the insanity that her life had become, if only for one night. Eva still sat by the bed, taking one last nibble of a crispy noodle before turning in herself. Alex scooted over, making enough room for both of them in the bed.
"Really?" Eva seemed shocked. "You sure?"
"You've done more to earn a good night's sleep than I have today." Alex patted the fabric, jokingly raising her eyebrows in a seductive manner. "Plenty of room for both of us, Big Red."
"Alright," Eva said, accepting the offer by crawling in next to the smaller woman, "just try and keep your hands to yourself if'n you can... the doors to this saloon only swing one way, if'n ya catch my drift."
Alex rolled onto her back and chuckled again, "goddamnit, Eva! Quit making me laugh! It's killing me!"
"Sorry," she chuckled back.
The two laid there wordlessly for some time after that, both staring up at the ceiling far above them like they were gazing at stars. Alex, deep in thought and trying to come to terms with what she was about to do; and Eva, who felt content getting to see a glimpse of the woman Alex once was. The loving wife and mother with a sense of humor. Not the cold, distant mask that she'd worn since the day she'd arrived.
"It does get to me sometimes, you know," Eva said, seemingly out of nowhere.
Alex turned her head to face the larger girl, "I'm sorry?"
"The killing," Eva clarified, "you asked me earlier if it ever gets to me. It does."
Alex turned onto her side, giving Eva her full attention, "so how do you deal with it?"
"I don't," she replied. "It's like... it's like there's a box inside my head. I try to lock all the bad stuff up inside it. Lately it... it just seems like it's getting so full I can't keep the lid shut. Does that make sense?"
Alex knew exactly what she was talking about, "more than you'll ever know."
"I want to be the person Mistah D wants me to be... and I really do want to make him happy," Eva continued. "He really is like a father to me."
Alex could sense more to Eva's words underneath the surface, "but..."
Eva turned onto her side as well, both now face to face, completely open and vulnerable to one another. "But... sometimes, when I'm alone... like in bed like this, or in the tub... you know, when it's just you and your thoughts? I'll just start crying. When it happens... I can't stop... and I don't know why."
A tear trickled out of the corner of Eva's eye, soaking into the washcloth upon contact. Like Alexandra, she too had built up walls to cope with her situation. Saying these things out loud, laying her secret feelings and worries out to Alexandra, it was the first time Eva had truly realized these things for herself. Alex recognized the pent up emotional strain, as she too had more stored away than she could bear at times. She took Eva's hand in her own. It felt so large and strong against the frailness of her own tiny fingers... yet Eva's hand trembled.
Alex looked into Eva's eyes as tears began to form in her own, "thank you for telling me... and thank you for being here."
End Part 10
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 11-"A Typical Morning in New York City"
Alexandra was the first to wake the following morning. To be fair, she didn't sleep as well as she'd hoped. Once Eva fell asleep, the heavy dread of what she was being forced to do that day overshadowed everything else, not unlike the shadow of DeTorres himself. She wiggled out of the washcloth, taking care not to disturb Eva as the larger of the tiny duo continued sawing logs. The glass of the coffee table felt cold beneath her feet, as did the morning chill blowing in from a cracked sliding glass door. It didn't help that Alex still had no clothes to cover herself with. She instantly regretted leaving the cozy warmth of her makeshift bed.
Wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing friction into her skin for warmth, the miniaturized mother took a cautious step away from Eva. She knew the table could easily support a creature as tiny as she, maybe even the full sized version of her as well. Still, each new step felt uneasy with the living room floor so visible far below her through the crystal clear surface, like one of those glass bottom bridges or that one scene in Squid Game. It was like floating in space, with her own reflection being the only thing holding her up. Alex knew it was silly, but she still found herself making sure she was placing her feet in the exact spot her translucent, upside down doppelgänger was going to step.
The penthouse was quiet. Well, New York quiet anyway. The sound of horns blaring in the streets as they echoed against the skyscrapers held its own uniquely New York ambience. Something far different from the quiet Alexandra grown used to. Other than the constant hum from the electronics and fluorescent lighting within the vault, the place was as still as a cemetery.
Alex stared up at the crystalline cluster in front of her, reaching out to touch a transparent face on one of nature's many extraordinary works of art. The quartz towers truly was beautiful, she just wished she could appreciate it from the perspective of a normal person's size. Danielle would have loved this, and Alex would have loved giving it to her.
"Rise and shine, my little pets," DeTorres's voice startled Alex with its abruptness. She quickly ducked behind a protruding crystal, acutely aware of her own undraped state.
Eva sat up, stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. A few scratches to the itchy spot on her ass and she was ready to roll out of bed herself. "Mistah D... I need to take a piss."
"And a pleasant morning to you as well, Ms. Hutch."
"I'm not kidding here, boss...," she reiterated, "Old Faithful is about to put on a show for the tourists."
"Yes, yes... I'm coming," Emil replied. "No need to be so crass about it."
DeTorres placed his hand flat on the coffee table with his palm up to offer his favorite shrunken pet a lift. Within seconds of this he noticed the smudges of tiny bare footprints marring the pristine gloss of his coffee table. His pencil mustache twitched at the corner, but the man did not allow himself another outburst. The tracks led away from the bed and towards the quartz cluster serving as the table's centerpiece. There, peeking out from behind a stone so clear it offered little to save the dignity of the tiny naked female cowering behind it, was the other half... or third... of his strategic assassination team.
"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Clark?"
While it wouldn't have been the first time he'd seen her undressed, it still didn't make Alexandra feel any easier about it. DeTorres was giant, a monster, and she was as small and vulnerable as a gerbil. DeTorres sensed her hesitation, knowing exactly what was holding her back from his years of experience in dealing with the people he'd shrunk.
With Eva in palm, he waltzed over to the kitchen counter and returned with her self-made, but tattered coverings. The shirt and shorts looked so pathetically puny pinched between his thumb and forefinger, before realeasing them daintily from a significant height.
"They're crude for certain, but the work you've done in tailoring your clothing to your shrunken stature is actually quite impressive. Perhaps I should have you wardrobe for the others from now on," Emil mused.
"You got it," Alex replied sarcastically, "call this whole thing off and I'll start work on my fall collection."
Emil huffed with little amusement.
Alexandra ran to where her clothing had come to rest and threw them on as quickly as possible. If nothing else, she at least felt a little more human once fully clothed.
"Fucking Christ!" Eva screamed. "Can't this shit wait?! I'm gonna bust a leak here!"
The unimaginably disgusting prospect of having even a trickle of Eva's urine actually dampen an inch of his skin was enough to set DeTorres in motion. Instead of offering his other hand to Alex, he simply snatched her from the tabletop like the mighty Kong with Ann Darrow.
Eva had grown accustomed to being handled by this behemoth, but this was something entirely new for Alex. The strength of his crushing grip around her comparatively frail form was unlike anything she had ever experienced. A helpless sensation she likened to an anaconda's deadly embrace. These were not the coils of some scaly, serpentine body, but massive and powerful human fingers. The strength any one possessed was far greater than what she could muster with her entire body. That, combined with the relative speed with which Emil scrambled toward the restroom, made for the worst carnival ride of her life.
So far anyway.
"Really, Mrs. Hutch," DeTorres chastised, "I do expect some semblance of civilized behavior."
Eva winced her eyes shut, concentrating intensely on controlling her involuntary bodily functions. "Toilet now, word salad later!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the precarious experience at the edge of the cenoté sized toilet bowl, DeTorres allowed his little servants to freshen up in the wash basin. When through, he carried them back into the living room and placed the mismatched pair right back where he found them. He too needed to tend to his body's regular functions.
Upon his return, Emil found Eva attempting to fit Alex's much-too-large cat suit to her smaller partner by cutting off the excess material at the sleeves and legs. Emil was happy to see the itty bitty knife he'd painstakingly made for his star pupil was being put to good use. He took a seat on the sofa, resting his ankle on one knee and spreading his arms across the back, feeling the rays of the morning sun warm the back of his neck through the large glass pane.
DeTorres had always found fascination in the industrious nature of smaller creatures. Be it ants, or mice, or even the painstaking engineering marvels of the clever beaver. The way they had to conform to an unforgiving environment, a world much too large for them to dominate as humans do, into one they too could use and exploit. While intellectually he understood that the two miniaturized women before him were still, in fact, human... emotionally it was growing more and more difficult to separate these little bipeds from the other insignificant creatures that roamed the earth. There they were, only a few inches tall and still finding ways to use the resources available and adapt them to their needs. It wouldn't interest him to watch two fully grown women tailor an outfit, yet he found himself enthralled by Alex and Eva's efforts. Doing exactly as nature would have them do... making their difficult situation work for them.
Eva took a step back to admire her handwork. Unfortunately , Alex looked like a child standing in her mother's clothes. Even with the amount of material Eva had cut away, the pants still hung baggy on Alexandra's frame like a pair of bellbottomed capris and the thick, stiff fabric of the top continuously slid off her shoulder to either side of her neck.
"How does it feel?" The redhead asked.
"Like I'm wearing a garbage bag made out of sandpaper," Alex replied.
Eva held her own chin as she regarded the much smaller woman before her, "yeah well, I ain't never claimed to be no seamstress. Can you at least move in it?"
Alexandra took a few steps, spinning in a circle and came to a stop where she began. "Sort of. I just worry about it getting caught on something." She looked to the giant casually observing them from the comfort of his mountainous Scandinavian sofa. "Maybe if I had a few more days I could make it work."
Emil scoffed, seeing right through Alex's attempt to further delay the inevitable. "Out of the question," he replied. "I don't care to spend a minute longer in this city than I absolutely necessary. Besides, I already have a meeting set up late this morning with some gentlemen from Russia. It's an interaction I've been putting off for some time anyway, but it should make a fine a distraction to any D'Amatos that may be tailing me from our actual purpose here in New York. The assassination is a go, whether you like it or not, Mrs. Clark."
Alex sunk. This bullshit really was happening. "What the fuck do you need an alibi for? Don't you own the cops?" She snarled back.
Eva stepped in, "it's the mob he's worried about."
Looking back to DeTorres, he silently confirmed her assumptions with a nod.
"We're puttin' a hit on one of theirs...," the little Texan added, "it's only a matter of time before they come looking at Mistah D fer it."
"Very astute, Ms. Hutch." Emil congratulated Eva with a loving tap on the head with the tip of his finger. "I need to be seen, publicly. Engaged in business as usual."
Alex raised an eyebrow, "and what exactly is business as usual?"
Emil leaned in from his more laid back position to answer, "I have irons in many fires, Mrs. Clark. For example, this current situation between the Ukraine and Russia has had me deeply concerned for some time now. As someone who witnessed the tolls of the The Great War first hand, I do not exaggerate when I tell you the powder keg growing in Eastern Europe is a troubling one, to be sure."
"Now, since I'm already in New York, this set up gifts me the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. A chance to broker peace, and to swat an annoying, pestering fly. I could let this conflict play out as is, but at the risk of total nuclear annihilation should things escalate too quickly. Or... I trade The Russians something they desire far more than the extension of their borders..."
"And I suppose you have such a something valuable enough to end an entire war?" Alex snarked back with heavy sarcasm.
Emil leaned back in his seat once again, grinning with pride, "indeed I do, Mrs. Clark. Indeed I do. I possess something the entire nation has wished returned for many, many decades....
"The Amber Room."
End Part 11
Alexandra was the first to wake the following morning. To be fair, she didn't sleep as well as she'd hoped. Once Eva fell asleep, the heavy dread of what she was being forced to do that day overshadowed everything else, not unlike the shadow of DeTorres himself. She wiggled out of the washcloth, taking care not to disturb Eva as the larger of the tiny duo continued sawing logs. The glass of the coffee table felt cold beneath her feet, as did the morning chill blowing in from a cracked sliding glass door. It didn't help that Alex still had no clothes to cover herself with. She instantly regretted leaving the cozy warmth of her makeshift bed.
Wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing friction into her skin for warmth, the miniaturized mother took a cautious step away from Eva. She knew the table could easily support a creature as tiny as she, maybe even the full sized version of her as well. Still, each new step felt uneasy with the living room floor so visible far below her through the crystal clear surface, like one of those glass bottom bridges or that one scene in Squid Game. It was like floating in space, with her own reflection being the only thing holding her up. Alex knew it was silly, but she still found herself making sure she was placing her feet in the exact spot her translucent, upside down doppelgänger was going to step.
The penthouse was quiet. Well, New York quiet anyway. The sound of horns blaring in the streets as they echoed against the skyscrapers held its own uniquely New York ambience. Something far different from the quiet Alexandra grown used to. Other than the constant hum from the electronics and fluorescent lighting within the vault, the place was as still as a cemetery.
Alex stared up at the crystalline cluster in front of her, reaching out to touch a transparent face on one of nature's many extraordinary works of art. The quartz towers truly was beautiful, she just wished she could appreciate it from the perspective of a normal person's size. Danielle would have loved this, and Alex would have loved giving it to her.
"Rise and shine, my little pets," DeTorres's voice startled Alex with its abruptness. She quickly ducked behind a protruding crystal, acutely aware of her own undraped state.
Eva sat up, stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. A few scratches to the itchy spot on her ass and she was ready to roll out of bed herself. "Mistah D... I need to take a piss."
"And a pleasant morning to you as well, Ms. Hutch."
"I'm not kidding here, boss...," she reiterated, "Old Faithful is about to put on a show for the tourists."
"Yes, yes... I'm coming," Emil replied. "No need to be so crass about it."
DeTorres placed his hand flat on the coffee table with his palm up to offer his favorite shrunken pet a lift. Within seconds of this he noticed the smudges of tiny bare footprints marring the pristine gloss of his coffee table. His pencil mustache twitched at the corner, but the man did not allow himself another outburst. The tracks led away from the bed and towards the quartz cluster serving as the table's centerpiece. There, peeking out from behind a stone so clear it offered little to save the dignity of the tiny naked female cowering behind it, was the other half... or third... of his strategic assassination team.
"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Clark?"
While it wouldn't have been the first time he'd seen her undressed, it still didn't make Alexandra feel any easier about it. DeTorres was giant, a monster, and she was as small and vulnerable as a gerbil. DeTorres sensed her hesitation, knowing exactly what was holding her back from his years of experience in dealing with the people he'd shrunk.
With Eva in palm, he waltzed over to the kitchen counter and returned with her self-made, but tattered coverings. The shirt and shorts looked so pathetically puny pinched between his thumb and forefinger, before realeasing them daintily from a significant height.
"They're crude for certain, but the work you've done in tailoring your clothing to your shrunken stature is actually quite impressive. Perhaps I should have you wardrobe for the others from now on," Emil mused.
"You got it," Alex replied sarcastically, "call this whole thing off and I'll start work on my fall collection."
Emil huffed with little amusement.
Alexandra ran to where her clothing had come to rest and threw them on as quickly as possible. If nothing else, she at least felt a little more human once fully clothed.
"Fucking Christ!" Eva screamed. "Can't this shit wait?! I'm gonna bust a leak here!"
The unimaginably disgusting prospect of having even a trickle of Eva's urine actually dampen an inch of his skin was enough to set DeTorres in motion. Instead of offering his other hand to Alex, he simply snatched her from the tabletop like the mighty Kong with Ann Darrow.
Eva had grown accustomed to being handled by this behemoth, but this was something entirely new for Alex. The strength of his crushing grip around her comparatively frail form was unlike anything she had ever experienced. A helpless sensation she likened to an anaconda's deadly embrace. These were not the coils of some scaly, serpentine body, but massive and powerful human fingers. The strength any one possessed was far greater than what she could muster with her entire body. That, combined with the relative speed with which Emil scrambled toward the restroom, made for the worst carnival ride of her life.
So far anyway.
"Really, Mrs. Hutch," DeTorres chastised, "I do expect some semblance of civilized behavior."
Eva winced her eyes shut, concentrating intensely on controlling her involuntary bodily functions. "Toilet now, word salad later!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the precarious experience at the edge of the cenoté sized toilet bowl, DeTorres allowed his little servants to freshen up in the wash basin. When through, he carried them back into the living room and placed the mismatched pair right back where he found them. He too needed to tend to his body's regular functions.
Upon his return, Emil found Eva attempting to fit Alex's much-too-large cat suit to her smaller partner by cutting off the excess material at the sleeves and legs. Emil was happy to see the itty bitty knife he'd painstakingly made for his star pupil was being put to good use. He took a seat on the sofa, resting his ankle on one knee and spreading his arms across the back, feeling the rays of the morning sun warm the back of his neck through the large glass pane.
DeTorres had always found fascination in the industrious nature of smaller creatures. Be it ants, or mice, or even the painstaking engineering marvels of the clever beaver. The way they had to conform to an unforgiving environment, a world much too large for them to dominate as humans do, into one they too could use and exploit. While intellectually he understood that the two miniaturized women before him were still, in fact, human... emotionally it was growing more and more difficult to separate these little bipeds from the other insignificant creatures that roamed the earth. There they were, only a few inches tall and still finding ways to use the resources available and adapt them to their needs. It wouldn't interest him to watch two fully grown women tailor an outfit, yet he found himself enthralled by Alex and Eva's efforts. Doing exactly as nature would have them do... making their difficult situation work for them.
Eva took a step back to admire her handwork. Unfortunately , Alex looked like a child standing in her mother's clothes. Even with the amount of material Eva had cut away, the pants still hung baggy on Alexandra's frame like a pair of bellbottomed capris and the thick, stiff fabric of the top continuously slid off her shoulder to either side of her neck.
"How does it feel?" The redhead asked.
"Like I'm wearing a garbage bag made out of sandpaper," Alex replied.
Eva held her own chin as she regarded the much smaller woman before her, "yeah well, I ain't never claimed to be no seamstress. Can you at least move in it?"
Alexandra took a few steps, spinning in a circle and came to a stop where she began. "Sort of. I just worry about it getting caught on something." She looked to the giant casually observing them from the comfort of his mountainous Scandinavian sofa. "Maybe if I had a few more days I could make it work."
Emil scoffed, seeing right through Alex's attempt to further delay the inevitable. "Out of the question," he replied. "I don't care to spend a minute longer in this city than I absolutely necessary. Besides, I already have a meeting set up late this morning with some gentlemen from Russia. It's an interaction I've been putting off for some time anyway, but it should make a fine a distraction to any D'Amatos that may be tailing me from our actual purpose here in New York. The assassination is a go, whether you like it or not, Mrs. Clark."
Alex sunk. This bullshit really was happening. "What the fuck do you need an alibi for? Don't you own the cops?" She snarled back.
Eva stepped in, "it's the mob he's worried about."
Looking back to DeTorres, he silently confirmed her assumptions with a nod.
"We're puttin' a hit on one of theirs...," the little Texan added, "it's only a matter of time before they come looking at Mistah D fer it."
"Very astute, Ms. Hutch." Emil congratulated Eva with a loving tap on the head with the tip of his finger. "I need to be seen, publicly. Engaged in business as usual."
Alex raised an eyebrow, "and what exactly is business as usual?"
Emil leaned in from his more laid back position to answer, "I have irons in many fires, Mrs. Clark. For example, this current situation between the Ukraine and Russia has had me deeply concerned for some time now. As someone who witnessed the tolls of the The Great War first hand, I do not exaggerate when I tell you the powder keg growing in Eastern Europe is a troubling one, to be sure."
"Now, since I'm already in New York, this set up gifts me the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. A chance to broker peace, and to swat an annoying, pestering fly. I could let this conflict play out as is, but at the risk of total nuclear annihilation should things escalate too quickly. Or... I trade The Russians something they desire far more than the extension of their borders..."
"And I suppose you have such a something valuable enough to end an entire war?" Alex snarked back with heavy sarcasm.
Emil leaned back in his seat once again, grinning with pride, "indeed I do, Mrs. Clark. Indeed I do. I possess something the entire nation has wished returned for many, many decades....
"The Amber Room."
End Part 11
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
- Shrink Master
- Posts: 834
- Joined: Tue Nov 10, 2020 10:36 pm
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 12-"An Ultimatum"
"Who the fuck is Amber, and why would Russians want her room?" The naïveté of Eva's question sent her boss into a fit of laughter. "What? What did I say?!"
"The Amber Room was the crown jewel of Czarist opulence," Alexandra explained, wanting to clarify things for her larger companion, but also hardly believing what DeTorres was telling her. "An entire palace chamber adorned with gem quality amber." Had she not spent the last two years of her life standing at less than half the size of a Barbie doll, Alex might have thought The Broker was bluffing. She'd learned in the hardest way possible that it was best not to underestimate Emil DeTorres. "It's absolutely priceless."
As for The Broker himself, he seemed quite pleased with Alex's educated response. "Oh how lovely! I did not fancy you a fellow student of history, Mrs. Clark!"
Alex folded her arms over her chest, staring back at the gigantic man with far less enthusiasm. "It's treasure. I'm a... I was a professional thief. Of course I know about the Amber Room. I thought it was stolen by the Nazis and destroyed sometime during the Allied invasion?"
"Stolen... yes, but saved from what would have been an assured destruction by yours truly. Something so beautiful, so unique... belongs in the specialized care of an individual who appreciates its worth, don't you agree?" Emil asked rhetorically.
Alex found herself even more perplexed, "I've been through your entire house, Emil. There's no way you're keeping something like the Amber Room in there."
Emil chuckled once again, "please, Mrs. Clark, the... domicile... you inhabit sits with a million dollar view of my vault. Surely a burglar of your caliber has deduced that it is far more than a large hole in the wall with an especially elaborate lock? The Queen Anne herself could fit safely inside, along with a thousand more ships just like her."
Neither Alex or Eva truly understood what DeTorres was alluding to. As far as they could deduce, the vault was only the doorway to a large cave system hidden beneath the Hollywood Hills. That could not be further from the truth. The rounded vault entrance was less of a door so much as it was a gateway. To call it a device would be more accurate. One that allowed its owner to step inside a realm outside of our reality, or any other for that matter. A pocket dimension under lordship of one man, Emil DeTorres, its origins as mysterious as the man who controlled it. A true marvel of scientific achievement. It's owner hadn't the patience or inclination to explain such things to what amounted to a couple of peons.
Besides, it was time to get down to brass tax.
"So, Mrs. Clark, now that we can set that little historical tangent aside, shall we continue," Emil asked rhetorically once again. "While I entertain my comrades visiting from the frozen east, it will be the duty of Ms. Hutch and yourself, respectively... to infiltrate the offices of your former employer and... exterminate him. All I need from you are potential drop-off and extraction points. How many ways in and out of the building should I be expecting?"
Alexandra couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of DeTorres's latest request, "you can't be serious?! You're the one who forced me here against my will, and now I have to find us a way inside?!"
"Why do you persist in making things difficult, Mrs. Clark. I have heard and tolerated your protests time and again, but I have to admit that they have grown quite tiresome." Scooting forward to the edge of the couch, the man known as The Broker decided it was time to remind the stubborn female just who was in charge. His bent knees rose to either side of Alex like hills of white fabric at the edge of the coffee table. His massive torso leaned forward, casting its shadow over the shrunken pair like the Matterhorn itself.
"It is not a collective of trained assassins breaking into my home on a regular basis, Mrs. Clark. If this were the case, I would be addressing one of them instead of yourself. And if this scenario were in fact the case, there would be nothing more than a grey stain soaking into the earth at the edge of my property that once was you." Emil leaned in further, really letting Alex feel the weight and magnitude of his presence.
"But... the fact of the matter is, it's thieves like Ms. Hutch and yourself that continue to challenge me. This inherent need that you, and everyone preceding you, has to push themselves further, always needing that next 'big score.' So, I make do with what fate has provided. Some, like the delightful Ms. Hutch here, take to the work like 'ducks to water,' as they say. Others, like you, Mrs. Clark, choose to fight the system every step of the way. Why don't you take an educated guess as to which live longer. You do not strike me as the type to covet self over the ones they care for, so I shouldn't have to remind you what's at stake."
Alex swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat make it almost impossible to do so. Had she pushed DeTorres too far this time? Just how far out of line had she stepped, and would he make her family pay for it.
"I take no pleasure in the act of murder," Emil stated less than convincingly, especially considering the circumstances. Easy to say for a puppet master who is rarely forced to get his hands dirty. "I guarantee that if you were in my position, you too would do what was necessary to ensure the preservation of your own personal status quo." He brought his hand to within inches of Alex's face, pointing his finger at her like a misbehaving dog. "This will be my final warning to you, Alexandra Clark. This is the program, so get with it. Or else."
Alex's voice quivered with fear, "or... or else... what?"
"Consequences." He removed his phone from his pocket and brought up the photo of Alexandra's husband and daughter once again, letting the device clang hard on the glass in front of her. "Do you think me so common that I'd simply have your spouse, as well as your progeny, gunned down like petty thugs in the street? Have I not impressed upon you how unimaginative I find such things? To simply relieve the man of his breath does not send the message I desire."
"W-what message?" Alex stammered.
"The message I'm trying to send you, Mrs. Clark."
Alexandra gasped.
"Silly girl... ha you not yet deduced that this whole endeavor is not solely about Mr. Fulci? This exercise is just as much about you. Yes, the fellow's death will be of considerable convenience to me, but his demise will serve a far greater purpose than any of his nefarious acts in life. The first steps to develop you into the killer I need you to be."
The image of Alex's family faded to darkness, hidden away like any other of The Broker's many secrets. Alex wanted to tap the power button so badly, to see them once more, but DeTorres's penetrating gaze held her like a tractor beam. The irritation with the man's eccentricities had abandoned her, and the fear had returned to fill the void.
"Now, about those consequences," he continued, "and I do hope I'm making myself abundantly clear to you now, Mrs. Clark. Eliminating your family would prove far too easy... on you. Grief would consume you for a time, this is inherently certain, but in the emptiness of their deaths I would lose any influence I had over you. Living or dead, you'd be useless to me."
Then came the real bomb, one Emil knew would get the reaction he desired.
"Should you continue to refuse my orders, I will miniaturize your family as well. Shrinking them down and claiming them as my own personal property. Even in captivity, do not delude yourself into fantasies of reunion, though. Oh no, Mrs. Clark. Your loved ones will become my sweet little pets. Displayed neatly in a fish bowl on my bedroom dresser, or within the confines of a darkened vase, hidden in plain sight." Emil continued to twist the proverbial knife into Alex's gut. "Perhaps smaller still, trapped within the narrow confines of a child's ant farm, living the rest of their pointless lives surviving on grains of rice."
An epiphany struck the cruel man amidst his even crueler thoughts, "hmmmmmm... better still... what if I keep them painfully close to you? Hidden opposite your cell, just on the wither side of the vault wall. Torturing yourself with the knowledge of their presence, but never again laying eyes upon them. Your heart aching to hear their sweet voices, but knowing that I will never allow such reward. And just because I can, they'll never know just how near their pathetic, absentee spouse and mother truly is. You will be dead to them, Mrs. Clark. Dead."
"You wouldn't dare!" Alex exclaimed.
"Look at yourself, Mrs. Clark. Look at where you are. Think about what you have become. Bluffing with a worthless hand is the strategy of a poor poker player, indeed."
Alex gasped, "please don't... just don't hurt them! I promise... I promise I'll do what you ask!"
"Oh, I'm not finished yet, my dear. And you'd do well to learn not to interrupt your superior."
Alex clammed up, clasping her hands over her mouth... shaking to her very bones with fear. DeTorres finally had her attention.
"Should you put me in a position where I'm forced to use your family as leverage again, Mrs. Clark, the next task you will receive will make this one feel like an afternoon spent at Disneyland. If the thought of killing Fulci turns your stomach now, just you wait until you see what I have in store." Emil spoke more softly, which only made the words that followed feel that much more malicious.
"My next promise I make with no hesitation," Emil concluded. "Should you protest in the slightest, or fail to accomplish any task assigned... I'll shrink them even more. Your beloved Bradley. Danielle, with her bright, happy smile. Diminishing to nothing in payment for your rebelliousness. Smaller and smaller... until their microscopic lungs grow so small that they can no longer take in the fine grains of the compound... or there's simply nothing left of them to shrink. Their fate is in your hands, Mrs. Clark... yours and yours alone. The game is over... and I've won. It's time you learned to live with that."
By the end of The Broker's ultimatum, Alex had collapsed to her knees. The tears streaming down her face glistened as they caught the morning sun. Eva stood by silently, head bowed and arms clasped in front of her in a gesture of submissive obedience to her master. She wished Alexandra hadn't tested DeTorres so. As terrible as his threats were, she knew him capable of much, much worse.
"Now," Emil's tone was final and curt, "do I need to ask again about the building's exits, Mrs. Clark?"
Alexandra crawled forward on her hands and knees with the urgency of a medical emergency, "two! There's two! The front door, secured with an entry code, and a fire escape behind the building!"
"And on which floor does Fulci conduct his business?"
"The f-fifth," she stuttered back.
Eva finally chimed in, "is there an elevator?"
Alex turned to face her partner, feeling slightly hurt that Eva was now joining this interrogation. She shook her head, sending he clinging tears falling from her face.
"Fuck," the redhead grumbled in response. No elevator meant there would be a lot of climbing... five stories of it. They may as well be scaling Angel's Landing in Zion National Park! It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to undertake such a challenge, but she always ended up in bed for days after a job like this due to the extreme exhaustion.
DeTorres continued with his questioning, "as for Mr. Fulci himself... what kind of hours does the gentleman keep?"
The shrunken brunette continued to spill her guts like her family's very lives depended upon it, "late! He works late! He drinks a lot... s-so he usually can't make it into the office until afternoon! He rarely leaves until after dark."
Emil twirled his pinky at the corner of his thin mustache, pondering his options, "does he store food or drink in his office?"
Alexandra nodded. "Y-yes... in the bottom drawer of his desk... scotch mostly."
"You thinkin' about poisoning this guy, boss?" Eva asked. She always preferred poisoning. Less hands on when dealing with people many times her size, which meant far less immediate danger.
"I think that would be the best course of action in this case, don't you," he conferred. "Especially with this being Mrs. Clark's maiden voyage and all."
Eva put extra enthusiasm into her response, desperately trying to change the tone of the room and elevate her boss's mood, "excellent idea, Mistah D!"
Emil glared in Eva's direction, "no one likes a kiss-ass, Ms. Hutch."
So much for that.
Returning his attention to Alex, DeTorres found it hard to believe he was looking at the same feisty woman he'd butted heads with just moments ago. One that had stood so tall for someone so very tiny. She kneeled before him, doubled over and quivering, a sorry shell of what she was. This is was just what she needed, a harsh and awakened humbling. Tough love. Like a seasoned drill Sargent, now Emil could pick up the pieces and build Alexandra into the soldier that would serve him best.
DeTorres lowered himself further, getting in as close and as intimate with his newest assassin as possible. "There. Wasn't that simple? I am quite serious when I tell you I do not wish harm to come upon your family, Mrs. Clark. They should not have to suffer for your indiscretions. Just do as I ask and your husband and daughter can live happy and fulfilling lives. They'll never know I exist. Challenge me, and..."
DeTorres stood up out of his seat, his mood shifting abruptly to a much happier and energetic one. "Excellent! We're all finally on the same page! Ms. Hutch?"
"Yes, Mistah D?"
"Help Mrs. Clark here out of that ridiculous getup. Ill-fitting attire shouldn't cause a hinderance to her performance. She can wear her own clothing in this instance, but she will be expected to fashion something more appropriate for future endeavors." The way he spoke about Alexandra as though she weren't even present felt even more degrading.
Eva nodded in compliance, "Yes, Mistah D."
"And what about you, Mrs. Clark?" He asked as he looked down his nose at her.
Alex couldn't bring herself to look at him. She was too frightened and angry with herself to do so. "I understand."
"You understand... what?"
"I understand, Mr. DeTorres."
"Fine!" Emil brought his hands together in a single clap to close the conversation. "You have five minutes to prepare, not a moment longer. We leave at five after nine."
End Part 12
"Who the fuck is Amber, and why would Russians want her room?" The naïveté of Eva's question sent her boss into a fit of laughter. "What? What did I say?!"
"The Amber Room was the crown jewel of Czarist opulence," Alexandra explained, wanting to clarify things for her larger companion, but also hardly believing what DeTorres was telling her. "An entire palace chamber adorned with gem quality amber." Had she not spent the last two years of her life standing at less than half the size of a Barbie doll, Alex might have thought The Broker was bluffing. She'd learned in the hardest way possible that it was best not to underestimate Emil DeTorres. "It's absolutely priceless."
As for The Broker himself, he seemed quite pleased with Alex's educated response. "Oh how lovely! I did not fancy you a fellow student of history, Mrs. Clark!"
Alex folded her arms over her chest, staring back at the gigantic man with far less enthusiasm. "It's treasure. I'm a... I was a professional thief. Of course I know about the Amber Room. I thought it was stolen by the Nazis and destroyed sometime during the Allied invasion?"
"Stolen... yes, but saved from what would have been an assured destruction by yours truly. Something so beautiful, so unique... belongs in the specialized care of an individual who appreciates its worth, don't you agree?" Emil asked rhetorically.
Alex found herself even more perplexed, "I've been through your entire house, Emil. There's no way you're keeping something like the Amber Room in there."
Emil chuckled once again, "please, Mrs. Clark, the... domicile... you inhabit sits with a million dollar view of my vault. Surely a burglar of your caliber has deduced that it is far more than a large hole in the wall with an especially elaborate lock? The Queen Anne herself could fit safely inside, along with a thousand more ships just like her."
Neither Alex or Eva truly understood what DeTorres was alluding to. As far as they could deduce, the vault was only the doorway to a large cave system hidden beneath the Hollywood Hills. That could not be further from the truth. The rounded vault entrance was less of a door so much as it was a gateway. To call it a device would be more accurate. One that allowed its owner to step inside a realm outside of our reality, or any other for that matter. A pocket dimension under lordship of one man, Emil DeTorres, its origins as mysterious as the man who controlled it. A true marvel of scientific achievement. It's owner hadn't the patience or inclination to explain such things to what amounted to a couple of peons.
Besides, it was time to get down to brass tax.
"So, Mrs. Clark, now that we can set that little historical tangent aside, shall we continue," Emil asked rhetorically once again. "While I entertain my comrades visiting from the frozen east, it will be the duty of Ms. Hutch and yourself, respectively... to infiltrate the offices of your former employer and... exterminate him. All I need from you are potential drop-off and extraction points. How many ways in and out of the building should I be expecting?"
Alexandra couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of DeTorres's latest request, "you can't be serious?! You're the one who forced me here against my will, and now I have to find us a way inside?!"
"Why do you persist in making things difficult, Mrs. Clark. I have heard and tolerated your protests time and again, but I have to admit that they have grown quite tiresome." Scooting forward to the edge of the couch, the man known as The Broker decided it was time to remind the stubborn female just who was in charge. His bent knees rose to either side of Alex like hills of white fabric at the edge of the coffee table. His massive torso leaned forward, casting its shadow over the shrunken pair like the Matterhorn itself.
"It is not a collective of trained assassins breaking into my home on a regular basis, Mrs. Clark. If this were the case, I would be addressing one of them instead of yourself. And if this scenario were in fact the case, there would be nothing more than a grey stain soaking into the earth at the edge of my property that once was you." Emil leaned in further, really letting Alex feel the weight and magnitude of his presence.
"But... the fact of the matter is, it's thieves like Ms. Hutch and yourself that continue to challenge me. This inherent need that you, and everyone preceding you, has to push themselves further, always needing that next 'big score.' So, I make do with what fate has provided. Some, like the delightful Ms. Hutch here, take to the work like 'ducks to water,' as they say. Others, like you, Mrs. Clark, choose to fight the system every step of the way. Why don't you take an educated guess as to which live longer. You do not strike me as the type to covet self over the ones they care for, so I shouldn't have to remind you what's at stake."
Alex swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat make it almost impossible to do so. Had she pushed DeTorres too far this time? Just how far out of line had she stepped, and would he make her family pay for it.
"I take no pleasure in the act of murder," Emil stated less than convincingly, especially considering the circumstances. Easy to say for a puppet master who is rarely forced to get his hands dirty. "I guarantee that if you were in my position, you too would do what was necessary to ensure the preservation of your own personal status quo." He brought his hand to within inches of Alex's face, pointing his finger at her like a misbehaving dog. "This will be my final warning to you, Alexandra Clark. This is the program, so get with it. Or else."
Alex's voice quivered with fear, "or... or else... what?"
"Consequences." He removed his phone from his pocket and brought up the photo of Alexandra's husband and daughter once again, letting the device clang hard on the glass in front of her. "Do you think me so common that I'd simply have your spouse, as well as your progeny, gunned down like petty thugs in the street? Have I not impressed upon you how unimaginative I find such things? To simply relieve the man of his breath does not send the message I desire."
"W-what message?" Alex stammered.
"The message I'm trying to send you, Mrs. Clark."
Alexandra gasped.
"Silly girl... ha you not yet deduced that this whole endeavor is not solely about Mr. Fulci? This exercise is just as much about you. Yes, the fellow's death will be of considerable convenience to me, but his demise will serve a far greater purpose than any of his nefarious acts in life. The first steps to develop you into the killer I need you to be."
The image of Alex's family faded to darkness, hidden away like any other of The Broker's many secrets. Alex wanted to tap the power button so badly, to see them once more, but DeTorres's penetrating gaze held her like a tractor beam. The irritation with the man's eccentricities had abandoned her, and the fear had returned to fill the void.
"Now, about those consequences," he continued, "and I do hope I'm making myself abundantly clear to you now, Mrs. Clark. Eliminating your family would prove far too easy... on you. Grief would consume you for a time, this is inherently certain, but in the emptiness of their deaths I would lose any influence I had over you. Living or dead, you'd be useless to me."
Then came the real bomb, one Emil knew would get the reaction he desired.
"Should you continue to refuse my orders, I will miniaturize your family as well. Shrinking them down and claiming them as my own personal property. Even in captivity, do not delude yourself into fantasies of reunion, though. Oh no, Mrs. Clark. Your loved ones will become my sweet little pets. Displayed neatly in a fish bowl on my bedroom dresser, or within the confines of a darkened vase, hidden in plain sight." Emil continued to twist the proverbial knife into Alex's gut. "Perhaps smaller still, trapped within the narrow confines of a child's ant farm, living the rest of their pointless lives surviving on grains of rice."
An epiphany struck the cruel man amidst his even crueler thoughts, "hmmmmmm... better still... what if I keep them painfully close to you? Hidden opposite your cell, just on the wither side of the vault wall. Torturing yourself with the knowledge of their presence, but never again laying eyes upon them. Your heart aching to hear their sweet voices, but knowing that I will never allow such reward. And just because I can, they'll never know just how near their pathetic, absentee spouse and mother truly is. You will be dead to them, Mrs. Clark. Dead."
"You wouldn't dare!" Alex exclaimed.
"Look at yourself, Mrs. Clark. Look at where you are. Think about what you have become. Bluffing with a worthless hand is the strategy of a poor poker player, indeed."
Alex gasped, "please don't... just don't hurt them! I promise... I promise I'll do what you ask!"
"Oh, I'm not finished yet, my dear. And you'd do well to learn not to interrupt your superior."
Alex clammed up, clasping her hands over her mouth... shaking to her very bones with fear. DeTorres finally had her attention.
"Should you put me in a position where I'm forced to use your family as leverage again, Mrs. Clark, the next task you will receive will make this one feel like an afternoon spent at Disneyland. If the thought of killing Fulci turns your stomach now, just you wait until you see what I have in store." Emil spoke more softly, which only made the words that followed feel that much more malicious.
"My next promise I make with no hesitation," Emil concluded. "Should you protest in the slightest, or fail to accomplish any task assigned... I'll shrink them even more. Your beloved Bradley. Danielle, with her bright, happy smile. Diminishing to nothing in payment for your rebelliousness. Smaller and smaller... until their microscopic lungs grow so small that they can no longer take in the fine grains of the compound... or there's simply nothing left of them to shrink. Their fate is in your hands, Mrs. Clark... yours and yours alone. The game is over... and I've won. It's time you learned to live with that."
By the end of The Broker's ultimatum, Alex had collapsed to her knees. The tears streaming down her face glistened as they caught the morning sun. Eva stood by silently, head bowed and arms clasped in front of her in a gesture of submissive obedience to her master. She wished Alexandra hadn't tested DeTorres so. As terrible as his threats were, she knew him capable of much, much worse.
"Now," Emil's tone was final and curt, "do I need to ask again about the building's exits, Mrs. Clark?"
Alexandra crawled forward on her hands and knees with the urgency of a medical emergency, "two! There's two! The front door, secured with an entry code, and a fire escape behind the building!"
"And on which floor does Fulci conduct his business?"
"The f-fifth," she stuttered back.
Eva finally chimed in, "is there an elevator?"
Alex turned to face her partner, feeling slightly hurt that Eva was now joining this interrogation. She shook her head, sending he clinging tears falling from her face.
"Fuck," the redhead grumbled in response. No elevator meant there would be a lot of climbing... five stories of it. They may as well be scaling Angel's Landing in Zion National Park! It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to undertake such a challenge, but she always ended up in bed for days after a job like this due to the extreme exhaustion.
DeTorres continued with his questioning, "as for Mr. Fulci himself... what kind of hours does the gentleman keep?"
The shrunken brunette continued to spill her guts like her family's very lives depended upon it, "late! He works late! He drinks a lot... s-so he usually can't make it into the office until afternoon! He rarely leaves until after dark."
Emil twirled his pinky at the corner of his thin mustache, pondering his options, "does he store food or drink in his office?"
Alexandra nodded. "Y-yes... in the bottom drawer of his desk... scotch mostly."
"You thinkin' about poisoning this guy, boss?" Eva asked. She always preferred poisoning. Less hands on when dealing with people many times her size, which meant far less immediate danger.
"I think that would be the best course of action in this case, don't you," he conferred. "Especially with this being Mrs. Clark's maiden voyage and all."
Eva put extra enthusiasm into her response, desperately trying to change the tone of the room and elevate her boss's mood, "excellent idea, Mistah D!"
Emil glared in Eva's direction, "no one likes a kiss-ass, Ms. Hutch."
So much for that.
Returning his attention to Alex, DeTorres found it hard to believe he was looking at the same feisty woman he'd butted heads with just moments ago. One that had stood so tall for someone so very tiny. She kneeled before him, doubled over and quivering, a sorry shell of what she was. This is was just what she needed, a harsh and awakened humbling. Tough love. Like a seasoned drill Sargent, now Emil could pick up the pieces and build Alexandra into the soldier that would serve him best.
DeTorres lowered himself further, getting in as close and as intimate with his newest assassin as possible. "There. Wasn't that simple? I am quite serious when I tell you I do not wish harm to come upon your family, Mrs. Clark. They should not have to suffer for your indiscretions. Just do as I ask and your husband and daughter can live happy and fulfilling lives. They'll never know I exist. Challenge me, and..."
DeTorres stood up out of his seat, his mood shifting abruptly to a much happier and energetic one. "Excellent! We're all finally on the same page! Ms. Hutch?"
"Yes, Mistah D?"
"Help Mrs. Clark here out of that ridiculous getup. Ill-fitting attire shouldn't cause a hinderance to her performance. She can wear her own clothing in this instance, but she will be expected to fashion something more appropriate for future endeavors." The way he spoke about Alexandra as though she weren't even present felt even more degrading.
Eva nodded in compliance, "Yes, Mistah D."
"And what about you, Mrs. Clark?" He asked as he looked down his nose at her.
Alex couldn't bring herself to look at him. She was too frightened and angry with herself to do so. "I understand."
"You understand... what?"
"I understand, Mr. DeTorres."
"Fine!" Emil brought his hands together in a single clap to close the conversation. "You have five minutes to prepare, not a moment longer. We leave at five after nine."
End Part 12
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 13-"The Drop Off"
The cab ride into Queens was silent and awkward. Sitting in the disgusting backseat of a common man's commuter was anything but DeTorres's idea of a good time. A necessary evil given the covert nature of their operation. While a limousine would have better suited his tastes and status, drawing attention to himself in such an extravagant vehicle could prove disastrous. Lucio Fulci belonged to the syndicate after all, which meant eyes would most certainly be focused on the building.
Were the man not connected, Emil could have simply strolled up to the front door and let himself in, releasing his tiny assassins into the relative safety of the entryway to get on with their terrible work. This would not be so easy. While he hadn't informed Alex or even Eva of it yet, DeTorres would be forced to release them at least full block away from the building! Perhaps more depending on how visible the alley was from the buildings across the street. Not a huge deal for someone of common height, but for people of Alex and Eva's stature, a single block may as well have been a mile.
He'd never given any of his shrunken employees that much terrain to traverse before, not even Eva, nor had he needed to. While Emil had little worry about the little ginger's loyalty, Alex was still a wild card. His speech back in the penthouse seemed to have finally gotten through to her, but would she still use the opportunity to escape? Try to flag someone's attention? Even go as far as to reveal his goings on to the masses, sacrificing her own family for the cause of toppling his empire? Letting Mrs. Clark off her leash could prove even more disastrous than if he just let Eva take care of the Fulci problem by herself. Best not to leave anything to chance.
The long drive through the usual traffic congestion gave Emil plenty of time to think. He poured over Google Earth, blowing up the map of Fulci's block as large as he could get it on the screen of his phone. Rotating the image and searching every nearby street, DeTorres thought he may have found the most logical drop off point.
"Cabby!" Emil called out, just as eager to get on with the plan as he was to save his nostrils from the foul smelling taxi.
Initially the cab driver couldn't hear his fare order the vehicle to halt, what with the exotic twang of Sitars mixed with a hip hop beat blasting at an uncomfortably high volume. Yet another reason DeTorres had had enough. A man of worldly tastes if ever there was one, The Broker still had little patience for the novelty of genre mashups. He wrapped on the plexiglass separating the front from the back seat and waved a fat wad of cash so it could easily be seen in the rear view. This time, the cabby got the message and pulled over. The Broker paid his dues and disappeared down a narrow alley with the pet carrier in hand.
Eva could hardly believe the casually dressed man towering above them was actually her boss. She and Alex had entered their transport carrier before Emil had emerged from the bedroom, getting whisked away to the waiting taxi before having the chance to behold his getup. His most loyal underling had never seen him in anything but a suit and tie and the finest Italian loafers money could buy. The grey hoodie, sunglasses, and New York Rangers ball cap he sported that day made him look conspicuously like a man trying not to be noticed.
The little redhead playfully hung on the grated face of the open gate to the pet carrier where it rested on the brick-laid pavement... barely able to contain her laughter. "What're you wearin'?! We planin' on bombin' a federal building somewheres aftah this?"
Emil huffed, "not today, Ms. Hutch."
"Seriously! We movin' into this alley or sump'n?! Yer certainly dressed for it!" The little southerner continued to tease, which always seemed to make her thick accent come out stronger. No one but Eva would have the guts to speak to The Broker in such a way, and no one be she could have gotten away with it either.
Alex peaked out from the familiar confines of the pet carrier to truly behold the outside world for the very first time since her shrinking. Not the insides of the vault, or a car, or a plane, or DeTorres's apartment... but the intimidating domain of giants. The alleyway may have only spanned a block, but to a creature as small as she, it looked infinite. The monolithic construction of the artificial canyon mocked her with its aging grandeur. Between the neck-breakingly tall cliffs were foothills of bagged garbage and cardboard piling up against walls, the accumulative results of a recent sanitation department strike. The smell was as overwhelming as the visuals.
"If you've quite finished regaling me with the Tight Five for your standup debut, Ms. Hutch, perhaps we could get on with our mission?" DeTorres snarked back at the razzings of the seven inch tall woman. He removed a pair of items from his pocket that appeared to be rings in his enormous hands, holding them up for the diminutive duo to see for themselves.
Eva rolled her eyes and whined, stepping off from the gate and landing feet first onto the rough, uneven brick surface, "aaaah... come on, Mistah D! You really gonna make us wear those?"
"Wear what?" Alex inquired, finally shaking herself free from her awestruck state.
"For reasons of stealth, I've been forced to drop the two of you off about a block from Fulci's building. These are as much for your protection as for mine." Emil explained. He knelt down and slipped one of the rings around Eva's neck, which wasn't a ring at all, but a collar. Despite her displeasure with having to wear the damned thing, Eva still accommodated him. As soon as the device was clasped back together on its hinge, a red line of succeeding lights circled its surface before flashing to green, then went dark just as quickly.
"A collar?!" Alex whisper-shouted to Eva, "he's making us wear a collar?!"
Eva shushed her partner, "just do it... you're in enough trouble already."
The tips of DeTorres's massive fingers appeared in front of Alex's face, another open ring pinched between them. She craned her neck to look past the hand, up towards Emil's annoyed visage. She wanted to swat it out of his grasp, but knew she'd already spent whatever patience he had. She bit her tongue and braced herself for the cold metal to touch her skin.
"This is a tracking device, Mrs. Clark," Emil explained, "which also contains a tiny microphone and speaker imbedded within its structure which will allow Ms. Hutch and yourself to keep me updated." He paused for a moment, holding the ring so Alex could see the interior, "it also has another function..."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a host of razor sharp spikes jetted out from within the inner lining of the ring. The suddenness of their ejection made Alexandra audibly yelp with fright. "What the fuck?!?!"
DeTorres retracted the razor sharp spines, allowing the device to hinge open once again. "Though I'm confident the two of us have reached an understanding this morning, Mrs. Clark, certain precautions must be taken. While I've confided nothing but the truth, you on the other hand could still be bluffing. Perhaps your family mean as little to you as they do to me and you are completely willing to sacrifice them in exchange for your own freedom. I can't afford to take that chance. You understand," he stated more than asked.
The look Alex shot back at her titanic employer was anything but compliant. A single raise of one of The Brokers eyebrows though was enough to sway the puny woman from her natural dissidence. He had her. He knew it. She knew it. And this collar was so much more than a just a device for tracking or communication. It that were the case, a miniature walkie talkie would have been sufficient. The collar was a symbol, with DeTorres's usual one-of-a-kind sense of flair. He owned her. Alexandra really was nothing more than his pet.
"So where is this dump anyway?" Eva complained.
"Straight down that way," Emil answered, gesturing down the long stretch of alleyway, "not this building or the next, but the far one on the right."
Eva stared down the canyon of mortared brick, then back up at DeTorres, "wern't kiddin' about where you was droppin' us off, was ya?" She peered back down the alley, already mapping a course through toppled trash cans and broken glass glimmering against the uneven terrain in her mind. Pools of stagnant water and mystery liquids had collected in the low areas, adding more obstacles to slow their journey.
"I gotta be honest... I don't like this, Mistah D."
"Oh pish-posh," Emil said dismissed Eva's well placed concern. "You're perfectly capable of walking in a straight line, Ms. Hutch."
Eva placed her knuckles against her hips and replied, "it may be a straight line for you, but it's a goddamn obstacle course for us!"
Emil closed the gate to the pet carrier, then stood up straight to allow easier access to one of his pants pockets, "do your job, Ms. Hutch. You don't have to like it. And I don't wish to hear another word about it."
No matter how many times she'd tried, Eva knew there was no winning an argument with DeTorres. She crossed her arms across her chest and pursed her lips to the side in obvious frustration.
From within the giant's dark blue pants pocket, a small clear vial with a black screw-on cap appeared in DeTorres's hand. Crouching down one last time, he held the item up for both of the tiny women to observe, "this vial contains a very rare, very toxic powder. 'The Bubbling Death,' the Vietnamese call it. An especially potent concoction capable of carbonating a person's blood in order to elicit cardiac arrest once administered. Then, not dissimilar to a bottle of soda left out on the counter, the carbonation dissipates, leaving a corpse behind with no traceable signs of poisoning. One that appears to have passed from natural causes."
The vial was lowered down to Alex's level, an offering of death pinched between The Broker's gangly fingertips. "Be very careful with this, Mrs. Clark... there's enough here to bring down an elephant."
Alexandra reluctantly reached out to accept the cylinder, but DeTorres held his grip on it firm for just a moment longer, "be sure to use it all... is this understood?"
With an apprehensive nod from he tiny brunette, Emil released the deadly package into her care. Before he turned to leave, the skyscraper of a man directed his attention to the rookie one last time. "Remember, Mrs. Clark... your family is counting on you. Do not let them down."
And with that, DeTorres left his two would-be assassins to their duty. His silhouette could be seen by the two for some time before it disappeared into another cab... leaving the pair of shrunken women to fend for themselves in that disgusting alleyway. Both stood staring at the empty space left by the man for a few moments before getting startled by the echoing sound of glass rolling across the pavers. They spun around to find a single brown beer bottle coming to a rest in the middle of the alley, and the offending rat responsible for knocking there scurrying away in fright from the noise itself had caused.
Eva took a relieved breath. While a big, hearty New York City street rat was nothing to scoff at, the fact that it wasn't a cat... or something even worse... was a relieving sight. Especially since the chunky rodent was putting some distance between them and itself. Alex on the other hand...
"Hey... hey Alex... you alright?"
Alexandra was shaking once again, trying to fend off the mortal fear caused by the unbelievable sight of a sewer rat the size of a semi truck. She barely even heard Eva's question.
While Eva understood what Alex was going through, there was a time for playing the nurturer and a time for focus. This was not the former. "Alex! I need you to snap out of this shit, ok?!"
"Huh... oh... yeah...," the smaller woman replied in a daze. The look she offered Eva was that of a deer in headlights.
Eva took her partner by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake, "I know this is a lot, but you gotta focus fer me, ya hear? Whether ya like it or not, we have a job to do... and the longer we fuck around here, the more likely something bigger and hungrier might come along. Where there's rats, there could be strays. You don't want to meet the strays, trust me."
With a deep breath and winced eyes, Alex nodded. "You're right. You're right. Let's just... let's get this over with."
Eva led Alexandra towards the mine field of brown and green shards. She briefly glanced down at their naked feet, which were already acquiring a fresh coat of grime in such a short span of time. She wished her boss would have told her she'd be traversing a fucking landfill first.
"Think I could have stuffed enough cotton into those plastic shoes to keep them on my feet?" Alex asked in nervous jest, having caught Eva's momentary look of worry.
Eva smiled back, "I was just thinking the same thing. But, naw... we're a tough couple of bitches. We can handle a lot more pain than any man ever will."
Alex snort-laughed, "ain't that the fuckin' truth. Just wait until the day you have to squeeze an entire person out of your womb."
"Just pretend your kid left a bunch of Legos all over the floor," Eva suggested. "No big deal."
Alex parroted her partner in crime, "no big deal."
They passed the aforementioned beer bottle, one large enough that both women could fit inside with room to spare. After Eva had mentioned them, Alex couldn't stop thinking about Legos as they walked further into the alley. Mostly as means to distract herself from having another panic attack. She couldn't shake the mental image of herself tripping over one of the blocks now that even the smallest bricks were larger than actual bricks from this ridiculous perspective.
No big deal. Yeah, she thought to herself, my ass.
End Part 13
The cab ride into Queens was silent and awkward. Sitting in the disgusting backseat of a common man's commuter was anything but DeTorres's idea of a good time. A necessary evil given the covert nature of their operation. While a limousine would have better suited his tastes and status, drawing attention to himself in such an extravagant vehicle could prove disastrous. Lucio Fulci belonged to the syndicate after all, which meant eyes would most certainly be focused on the building.
Were the man not connected, Emil could have simply strolled up to the front door and let himself in, releasing his tiny assassins into the relative safety of the entryway to get on with their terrible work. This would not be so easy. While he hadn't informed Alex or even Eva of it yet, DeTorres would be forced to release them at least full block away from the building! Perhaps more depending on how visible the alley was from the buildings across the street. Not a huge deal for someone of common height, but for people of Alex and Eva's stature, a single block may as well have been a mile.
He'd never given any of his shrunken employees that much terrain to traverse before, not even Eva, nor had he needed to. While Emil had little worry about the little ginger's loyalty, Alex was still a wild card. His speech back in the penthouse seemed to have finally gotten through to her, but would she still use the opportunity to escape? Try to flag someone's attention? Even go as far as to reveal his goings on to the masses, sacrificing her own family for the cause of toppling his empire? Letting Mrs. Clark off her leash could prove even more disastrous than if he just let Eva take care of the Fulci problem by herself. Best not to leave anything to chance.
The long drive through the usual traffic congestion gave Emil plenty of time to think. He poured over Google Earth, blowing up the map of Fulci's block as large as he could get it on the screen of his phone. Rotating the image and searching every nearby street, DeTorres thought he may have found the most logical drop off point.
"Cabby!" Emil called out, just as eager to get on with the plan as he was to save his nostrils from the foul smelling taxi.
Initially the cab driver couldn't hear his fare order the vehicle to halt, what with the exotic twang of Sitars mixed with a hip hop beat blasting at an uncomfortably high volume. Yet another reason DeTorres had had enough. A man of worldly tastes if ever there was one, The Broker still had little patience for the novelty of genre mashups. He wrapped on the plexiglass separating the front from the back seat and waved a fat wad of cash so it could easily be seen in the rear view. This time, the cabby got the message and pulled over. The Broker paid his dues and disappeared down a narrow alley with the pet carrier in hand.
Eva could hardly believe the casually dressed man towering above them was actually her boss. She and Alex had entered their transport carrier before Emil had emerged from the bedroom, getting whisked away to the waiting taxi before having the chance to behold his getup. His most loyal underling had never seen him in anything but a suit and tie and the finest Italian loafers money could buy. The grey hoodie, sunglasses, and New York Rangers ball cap he sported that day made him look conspicuously like a man trying not to be noticed.
The little redhead playfully hung on the grated face of the open gate to the pet carrier where it rested on the brick-laid pavement... barely able to contain her laughter. "What're you wearin'?! We planin' on bombin' a federal building somewheres aftah this?"
Emil huffed, "not today, Ms. Hutch."
"Seriously! We movin' into this alley or sump'n?! Yer certainly dressed for it!" The little southerner continued to tease, which always seemed to make her thick accent come out stronger. No one but Eva would have the guts to speak to The Broker in such a way, and no one be she could have gotten away with it either.
Alex peaked out from the familiar confines of the pet carrier to truly behold the outside world for the very first time since her shrinking. Not the insides of the vault, or a car, or a plane, or DeTorres's apartment... but the intimidating domain of giants. The alleyway may have only spanned a block, but to a creature as small as she, it looked infinite. The monolithic construction of the artificial canyon mocked her with its aging grandeur. Between the neck-breakingly tall cliffs were foothills of bagged garbage and cardboard piling up against walls, the accumulative results of a recent sanitation department strike. The smell was as overwhelming as the visuals.
"If you've quite finished regaling me with the Tight Five for your standup debut, Ms. Hutch, perhaps we could get on with our mission?" DeTorres snarked back at the razzings of the seven inch tall woman. He removed a pair of items from his pocket that appeared to be rings in his enormous hands, holding them up for the diminutive duo to see for themselves.
Eva rolled her eyes and whined, stepping off from the gate and landing feet first onto the rough, uneven brick surface, "aaaah... come on, Mistah D! You really gonna make us wear those?"
"Wear what?" Alex inquired, finally shaking herself free from her awestruck state.
"For reasons of stealth, I've been forced to drop the two of you off about a block from Fulci's building. These are as much for your protection as for mine." Emil explained. He knelt down and slipped one of the rings around Eva's neck, which wasn't a ring at all, but a collar. Despite her displeasure with having to wear the damned thing, Eva still accommodated him. As soon as the device was clasped back together on its hinge, a red line of succeeding lights circled its surface before flashing to green, then went dark just as quickly.
"A collar?!" Alex whisper-shouted to Eva, "he's making us wear a collar?!"
Eva shushed her partner, "just do it... you're in enough trouble already."
The tips of DeTorres's massive fingers appeared in front of Alex's face, another open ring pinched between them. She craned her neck to look past the hand, up towards Emil's annoyed visage. She wanted to swat it out of his grasp, but knew she'd already spent whatever patience he had. She bit her tongue and braced herself for the cold metal to touch her skin.
"This is a tracking device, Mrs. Clark," Emil explained, "which also contains a tiny microphone and speaker imbedded within its structure which will allow Ms. Hutch and yourself to keep me updated." He paused for a moment, holding the ring so Alex could see the interior, "it also has another function..."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a host of razor sharp spikes jetted out from within the inner lining of the ring. The suddenness of their ejection made Alexandra audibly yelp with fright. "What the fuck?!?!"
DeTorres retracted the razor sharp spines, allowing the device to hinge open once again. "Though I'm confident the two of us have reached an understanding this morning, Mrs. Clark, certain precautions must be taken. While I've confided nothing but the truth, you on the other hand could still be bluffing. Perhaps your family mean as little to you as they do to me and you are completely willing to sacrifice them in exchange for your own freedom. I can't afford to take that chance. You understand," he stated more than asked.
The look Alex shot back at her titanic employer was anything but compliant. A single raise of one of The Brokers eyebrows though was enough to sway the puny woman from her natural dissidence. He had her. He knew it. She knew it. And this collar was so much more than a just a device for tracking or communication. It that were the case, a miniature walkie talkie would have been sufficient. The collar was a symbol, with DeTorres's usual one-of-a-kind sense of flair. He owned her. Alexandra really was nothing more than his pet.
"So where is this dump anyway?" Eva complained.
"Straight down that way," Emil answered, gesturing down the long stretch of alleyway, "not this building or the next, but the far one on the right."
Eva stared down the canyon of mortared brick, then back up at DeTorres, "wern't kiddin' about where you was droppin' us off, was ya?" She peered back down the alley, already mapping a course through toppled trash cans and broken glass glimmering against the uneven terrain in her mind. Pools of stagnant water and mystery liquids had collected in the low areas, adding more obstacles to slow their journey.
"I gotta be honest... I don't like this, Mistah D."
"Oh pish-posh," Emil said dismissed Eva's well placed concern. "You're perfectly capable of walking in a straight line, Ms. Hutch."
Eva placed her knuckles against her hips and replied, "it may be a straight line for you, but it's a goddamn obstacle course for us!"
Emil closed the gate to the pet carrier, then stood up straight to allow easier access to one of his pants pockets, "do your job, Ms. Hutch. You don't have to like it. And I don't wish to hear another word about it."
No matter how many times she'd tried, Eva knew there was no winning an argument with DeTorres. She crossed her arms across her chest and pursed her lips to the side in obvious frustration.
From within the giant's dark blue pants pocket, a small clear vial with a black screw-on cap appeared in DeTorres's hand. Crouching down one last time, he held the item up for both of the tiny women to observe, "this vial contains a very rare, very toxic powder. 'The Bubbling Death,' the Vietnamese call it. An especially potent concoction capable of carbonating a person's blood in order to elicit cardiac arrest once administered. Then, not dissimilar to a bottle of soda left out on the counter, the carbonation dissipates, leaving a corpse behind with no traceable signs of poisoning. One that appears to have passed from natural causes."
The vial was lowered down to Alex's level, an offering of death pinched between The Broker's gangly fingertips. "Be very careful with this, Mrs. Clark... there's enough here to bring down an elephant."
Alexandra reluctantly reached out to accept the cylinder, but DeTorres held his grip on it firm for just a moment longer, "be sure to use it all... is this understood?"
With an apprehensive nod from he tiny brunette, Emil released the deadly package into her care. Before he turned to leave, the skyscraper of a man directed his attention to the rookie one last time. "Remember, Mrs. Clark... your family is counting on you. Do not let them down."
And with that, DeTorres left his two would-be assassins to their duty. His silhouette could be seen by the two for some time before it disappeared into another cab... leaving the pair of shrunken women to fend for themselves in that disgusting alleyway. Both stood staring at the empty space left by the man for a few moments before getting startled by the echoing sound of glass rolling across the pavers. They spun around to find a single brown beer bottle coming to a rest in the middle of the alley, and the offending rat responsible for knocking there scurrying away in fright from the noise itself had caused.
Eva took a relieved breath. While a big, hearty New York City street rat was nothing to scoff at, the fact that it wasn't a cat... or something even worse... was a relieving sight. Especially since the chunky rodent was putting some distance between them and itself. Alex on the other hand...
"Hey... hey Alex... you alright?"
Alexandra was shaking once again, trying to fend off the mortal fear caused by the unbelievable sight of a sewer rat the size of a semi truck. She barely even heard Eva's question.
While Eva understood what Alex was going through, there was a time for playing the nurturer and a time for focus. This was not the former. "Alex! I need you to snap out of this shit, ok?!"
"Huh... oh... yeah...," the smaller woman replied in a daze. The look she offered Eva was that of a deer in headlights.
Eva took her partner by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake, "I know this is a lot, but you gotta focus fer me, ya hear? Whether ya like it or not, we have a job to do... and the longer we fuck around here, the more likely something bigger and hungrier might come along. Where there's rats, there could be strays. You don't want to meet the strays, trust me."
With a deep breath and winced eyes, Alex nodded. "You're right. You're right. Let's just... let's get this over with."
Eva led Alexandra towards the mine field of brown and green shards. She briefly glanced down at their naked feet, which were already acquiring a fresh coat of grime in such a short span of time. She wished her boss would have told her she'd be traversing a fucking landfill first.
"Think I could have stuffed enough cotton into those plastic shoes to keep them on my feet?" Alex asked in nervous jest, having caught Eva's momentary look of worry.
Eva smiled back, "I was just thinking the same thing. But, naw... we're a tough couple of bitches. We can handle a lot more pain than any man ever will."
Alex snort-laughed, "ain't that the fuckin' truth. Just wait until the day you have to squeeze an entire person out of your womb."
"Just pretend your kid left a bunch of Legos all over the floor," Eva suggested. "No big deal."
Alex parroted her partner in crime, "no big deal."
They passed the aforementioned beer bottle, one large enough that both women could fit inside with room to spare. After Eva had mentioned them, Alex couldn't stop thinking about Legos as they walked further into the alley. Mostly as means to distract herself from having another panic attack. She couldn't shake the mental image of herself tripping over one of the blocks now that even the smallest bricks were larger than actual bricks from this ridiculous perspective.
No big deal. Yeah, she thought to herself, my ass.
End Part 13
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 14-"Wilds of the Alley"
The passing cars from either end of the long alleyway howled at one another in competition as Alex and Eva trudged on. Horns blared like air raid sirens, as New Yorkers tend to communicate their dissatisfaction with literally anything happening on the road. Or on the sidewalk. Or just because they feel like it. The way the sound bounced around against the building walls and off the metal fire escapes above the shrunken women only added to the surreal nature of their predicament.
The brick pavement rose and fell in rolling hills where the earth beneath had settled perhaps a hundred years or more before their attempt to cross them. They tried their best to avoid the murky puddles filling with the disgusting liquid. Most of it seemed to be springing from the many bags of garbage impeding any direct path through the alley to Fulci's building. More than once their options were limited to wading across the nauseating sludge.
A few steps for someone of natural size would have been all that was required to navigate around this waste-filled landscape. Eva and Alex were not so lucky. Standing at just four and seven inches tall, respectively, this path could only be described as treacherous at best.
"Mistah D is gonna git an earful after this, mark my words," Eva complained. She sat on the slanted surface of a brick jutting out from the ground, dislodged from the rest of its kin. She coiled her hands around the black fabric of her pants as she wrung them out on the edge of the latest foul smelling pool she'd been forced to walk through. A puddle so murky with pollutants that Eva had nearly cut her foot on a shard of glass hidden in its depths. God help her if she had because any cut or scrape was almost guaranteed to get infected.
"Come on, Austin Texas... I thought you were supposed to be this proud, southern barefoot girl?" Alex snarked at her partner. She cradled the vial of poison like a running back with the ball, even though this particular 'football' was longer than the length of her entire arm. "Still glad you came?"
Their progress had come to a halt as a barrier of stacked up garbage bags blocked any path forward. Some thick and black, while others revealed their contents of discarded consumerist ephemera through translucent white plastic. Eva continued to curse her boss's name, still seated on the red, masonry beach. Meanwhile Alex had charged herself with finding a way through the blockage.
"Couldn't that fucker have dropped us off on the other side of this thing?!" Alex asked rhetorically. Making her way towards the foundation of the building where Fulci conducted his business, she knelt down and peered beneath one of the colossal trash bags. Light could be seen peeking through from the other side, with just enough of a gap between the wall and the plastic to crawl through. Not to say this was without its own problem though, a new horror she had not yet considered.
As if traversing the ooze and jagged glass that blanketed the entire length of the alley wasn't miserable enough, the monster nesting in that tunnel made Alex scream out in absolute terror. Like another eight-legged nightmare, straight out of Tolkien's legendarium, this one had found its own tunnel to trap and kill its unsuspecting prey.
"Aaaaah! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" The startled brunette screamed at the top of her lungs. She'd fallen backwards onto her ass, scrambling away from the arachnid's lair as fast as she could on the palms of her hands.
Eva threw her pants aside and rushed to Alex's aid, "what?! What is it?!"
Her partner's eyes bulged with terror, a lone finger extended towards the gap. "Spider! A huge fucking spider!"
"Shit," Eva grumbled. She hurried back to her pants, finding it difficult to slide them back on over her legs in their dampened state. Once fully dressed, the crafty redhead scanned the billowing mountains of garbage for something she could use to force the spider out of the hole.
"Jesus Christ!" Alex panted, "its as big as a dog!" Staring back into the web-lined tunnel, terrified beyond belief, but unable to look away. As miserable as she was back in the vault, at least it was safe and familiar. This was hell on earth..
Meanwhile, Eva was attempting to rip a hole in the side of one of the white bags, finding the elastic nature of its makeup especially difficult to rip at her reduced size. A slash with one of the abundantly available shards of broken glass quickly resolved the issue.
Alex looked on, slightly puzzled, "are we going to try to go through there?!"
Eva ignored her partner's question, reaching deep inside the hole she'd created until her fingers found what she was looking for. "Aha!" What emerged was a long plastic tube, with red and yellow stripes marking the entire length of its exterior. Alex easily identified the item as a straw from McDonald's.
"This should do the trick," Eva proclaimed. She knelt down at the mouth of the passage and forced the straw through the spider's webbing, twirling it around so the sticky fibers would collect on its surface. Once she found the agitated arachnid, already rearing up in a defensive posture, Eva placed one end of the straw around her lips like a didgeridoo and started to blow.
The spider recoiled, then snapped at the other end, attempting to sink its fangs into the intrusive implement. Eva gave the horrid beast a few good nudges until it finally took the hint and scurried out of the hole. It climbed up the other side of the bag, unseeable from where the two shrunken women knelt. The shrunken women stared down the tunnel, each waiting to see if the horrible creature tried to return.
"You wanna go first?" Eva asked, nodding onward, it only half joking.
Alex shook her head in response.
"Didn't think so." With a heavy sigh, Eva stuck the straw out in front of her like a jousting stick and squeezed her way through the tight, narrow opening.
Alex stood back as she watched her partner squirm and claw her way towards the other side. With each labored push forward, cans and glass and god knows what else could be heard shifting above the larger redhead, a sound that made Alex's anxieties peak. What if the weight shifted enough that the bag collapsed on top of Eva? Pinning her to the ground with no hope of escape!
Eva, on the other hand, was more concerned with tossing the small shards of glass on the ground ahead so she didn't shred the skin on she or Alex's knees and stomachs. That, and keeping herself on high alert in case a certain arthropod she'd pissed off came back looking for a fight.
"You almost through?" Alex's voice cracked with the question. Her heart raced with worry for Eva's wellbeing.
Eva dragged herself a little further, "just about! Is starting to open up a little more!"
With one final burst of will, Eva forced her way out the other side, the light from the other end suddenly returning to Alex's eyes. "Alright! I'm through!" The taller woman yelled back.
"Where's the spider?!" The most pressing question on Alex's mind.
Eva took a look around, failing to find the fanged monstrosity. "Gone, I think. Really don't like spiders, does ya?"
"Not one that could bite my fucking hand off!" Alex yelled back. "And who the fuck likes spiders?!"
Eva laughed, "you win. Come on, it ain't so bad... just watch the glass."
The smaller of the two opened her own backpack and carefully stuffed the vial of poison inside with barely enough room to accommodate. The lid peaked out of the top, making it impossible to zip the pack back up. She pushed the satchel out in front of herself before beginning her own journey through the tunnel. Her much smaller size proved beneficial for the first time. Where Eva had to squeeze her way under the enormous, overstuffed bag, Alex could easily crawl through on her hands and knees for what should have been a quick journey.
Should have...
Remnants of the spider's web still dangled down from above, brushing against Alex's pale skin and catching in her hair. A gross, tickling sensation that left her feeling even more on edge.
"You're almost there," Eva coached her partner nearer with her hands.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," the brunette complained, "when this is all over I'm-," Alex stopped mid-sentence. She stopped moving forward altogether. Eva could see the fear in her friend's eyes. Something dark was behind her and crawling up the bare flesh of Alex's legs. Both knew what it had to be, and when Alexandra spotted the cotton ball-like egg sack lodged in the mortared gap between bricks, she knew exactly why it had returned...
End Part 14
The passing cars from either end of the long alleyway howled at one another in competition as Alex and Eva trudged on. Horns blared like air raid sirens, as New Yorkers tend to communicate their dissatisfaction with literally anything happening on the road. Or on the sidewalk. Or just because they feel like it. The way the sound bounced around against the building walls and off the metal fire escapes above the shrunken women only added to the surreal nature of their predicament.
The brick pavement rose and fell in rolling hills where the earth beneath had settled perhaps a hundred years or more before their attempt to cross them. They tried their best to avoid the murky puddles filling with the disgusting liquid. Most of it seemed to be springing from the many bags of garbage impeding any direct path through the alley to Fulci's building. More than once their options were limited to wading across the nauseating sludge.
A few steps for someone of natural size would have been all that was required to navigate around this waste-filled landscape. Eva and Alex were not so lucky. Standing at just four and seven inches tall, respectively, this path could only be described as treacherous at best.
"Mistah D is gonna git an earful after this, mark my words," Eva complained. She sat on the slanted surface of a brick jutting out from the ground, dislodged from the rest of its kin. She coiled her hands around the black fabric of her pants as she wrung them out on the edge of the latest foul smelling pool she'd been forced to walk through. A puddle so murky with pollutants that Eva had nearly cut her foot on a shard of glass hidden in its depths. God help her if she had because any cut or scrape was almost guaranteed to get infected.
"Come on, Austin Texas... I thought you were supposed to be this proud, southern barefoot girl?" Alex snarked at her partner. She cradled the vial of poison like a running back with the ball, even though this particular 'football' was longer than the length of her entire arm. "Still glad you came?"
Their progress had come to a halt as a barrier of stacked up garbage bags blocked any path forward. Some thick and black, while others revealed their contents of discarded consumerist ephemera through translucent white plastic. Eva continued to curse her boss's name, still seated on the red, masonry beach. Meanwhile Alex had charged herself with finding a way through the blockage.
"Couldn't that fucker have dropped us off on the other side of this thing?!" Alex asked rhetorically. Making her way towards the foundation of the building where Fulci conducted his business, she knelt down and peered beneath one of the colossal trash bags. Light could be seen peeking through from the other side, with just enough of a gap between the wall and the plastic to crawl through. Not to say this was without its own problem though, a new horror she had not yet considered.
As if traversing the ooze and jagged glass that blanketed the entire length of the alley wasn't miserable enough, the monster nesting in that tunnel made Alex scream out in absolute terror. Like another eight-legged nightmare, straight out of Tolkien's legendarium, this one had found its own tunnel to trap and kill its unsuspecting prey.
"Aaaaah! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" The startled brunette screamed at the top of her lungs. She'd fallen backwards onto her ass, scrambling away from the arachnid's lair as fast as she could on the palms of her hands.
Eva threw her pants aside and rushed to Alex's aid, "what?! What is it?!"
Her partner's eyes bulged with terror, a lone finger extended towards the gap. "Spider! A huge fucking spider!"
"Shit," Eva grumbled. She hurried back to her pants, finding it difficult to slide them back on over her legs in their dampened state. Once fully dressed, the crafty redhead scanned the billowing mountains of garbage for something she could use to force the spider out of the hole.
"Jesus Christ!" Alex panted, "its as big as a dog!" Staring back into the web-lined tunnel, terrified beyond belief, but unable to look away. As miserable as she was back in the vault, at least it was safe and familiar. This was hell on earth..
Meanwhile, Eva was attempting to rip a hole in the side of one of the white bags, finding the elastic nature of its makeup especially difficult to rip at her reduced size. A slash with one of the abundantly available shards of broken glass quickly resolved the issue.
Alex looked on, slightly puzzled, "are we going to try to go through there?!"
Eva ignored her partner's question, reaching deep inside the hole she'd created until her fingers found what she was looking for. "Aha!" What emerged was a long plastic tube, with red and yellow stripes marking the entire length of its exterior. Alex easily identified the item as a straw from McDonald's.
"This should do the trick," Eva proclaimed. She knelt down at the mouth of the passage and forced the straw through the spider's webbing, twirling it around so the sticky fibers would collect on its surface. Once she found the agitated arachnid, already rearing up in a defensive posture, Eva placed one end of the straw around her lips like a didgeridoo and started to blow.
The spider recoiled, then snapped at the other end, attempting to sink its fangs into the intrusive implement. Eva gave the horrid beast a few good nudges until it finally took the hint and scurried out of the hole. It climbed up the other side of the bag, unseeable from where the two shrunken women knelt. The shrunken women stared down the tunnel, each waiting to see if the horrible creature tried to return.
"You wanna go first?" Eva asked, nodding onward, it only half joking.
Alex shook her head in response.
"Didn't think so." With a heavy sigh, Eva stuck the straw out in front of her like a jousting stick and squeezed her way through the tight, narrow opening.
Alex stood back as she watched her partner squirm and claw her way towards the other side. With each labored push forward, cans and glass and god knows what else could be heard shifting above the larger redhead, a sound that made Alex's anxieties peak. What if the weight shifted enough that the bag collapsed on top of Eva? Pinning her to the ground with no hope of escape!
Eva, on the other hand, was more concerned with tossing the small shards of glass on the ground ahead so she didn't shred the skin on she or Alex's knees and stomachs. That, and keeping herself on high alert in case a certain arthropod she'd pissed off came back looking for a fight.
"You almost through?" Alex's voice cracked with the question. Her heart raced with worry for Eva's wellbeing.
Eva dragged herself a little further, "just about! Is starting to open up a little more!"
With one final burst of will, Eva forced her way out the other side, the light from the other end suddenly returning to Alex's eyes. "Alright! I'm through!" The taller woman yelled back.
"Where's the spider?!" The most pressing question on Alex's mind.
Eva took a look around, failing to find the fanged monstrosity. "Gone, I think. Really don't like spiders, does ya?"
"Not one that could bite my fucking hand off!" Alex yelled back. "And who the fuck likes spiders?!"
Eva laughed, "you win. Come on, it ain't so bad... just watch the glass."
The smaller of the two opened her own backpack and carefully stuffed the vial of poison inside with barely enough room to accommodate. The lid peaked out of the top, making it impossible to zip the pack back up. She pushed the satchel out in front of herself before beginning her own journey through the tunnel. Her much smaller size proved beneficial for the first time. Where Eva had to squeeze her way under the enormous, overstuffed bag, Alex could easily crawl through on her hands and knees for what should have been a quick journey.
Should have...
Remnants of the spider's web still dangled down from above, brushing against Alex's pale skin and catching in her hair. A gross, tickling sensation that left her feeling even more on edge.
"You're almost there," Eva coached her partner nearer with her hands.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," the brunette complained, "when this is all over I'm-," Alex stopped mid-sentence. She stopped moving forward altogether. Eva could see the fear in her friend's eyes. Something dark was behind her and crawling up the bare flesh of Alex's legs. Both knew what it had to be, and when Alexandra spotted the cotton ball-like egg sack lodged in the mortared gap between bricks, she knew exactly why it had returned...
End Part 14
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 15-"The Tunnel"
"Eeeeeeevvaaaaaaaa!"
In any other situation, the spider may have simply run off to find a new little neglected corner of the world to call its own. Whatever motherly instincts one of nature's most perfect and efficient killers might possess kicked in. It had doubled back, across the top of the garbage bag, and waiting and watching through its many unblinking eyes. Allowing for the first and more intimidating of these strange creatures to pass though its tunnel. When the second, much smaller trespasser invaded its territory, further endangering its unborn offspring, like any other mother protecting its unborn brood, the spider leapt into an attack.
Alex kicked her legs wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs. The fanged menace's probing legs tapped at her own as it attempted to mount the tiny woman. The animal darted from left to right with such incredible bursts of speed. No matter how much Alex kicked and flailed, the arachnid managed to regain its hold on her legs, bouncing from the wall, then to the bag, then back on top of the other terrified mother occupying the tunnel.
Eva sprung into action. She dived back into the narrow passage, a crevice barely wide enough for her body to squeeze through. Alex was still clutching one of the shoulder straps of her backpack, so the resourceful redhead grabbed hold of the other. Despite Alex's wild and frantic motions, Eva held tight to the strap and used it to drag her partner out of the hole.
The larger woman's quick thinking came none too soon. Eva's efforts to save Alexandra were just enough to jostle the garbage bag into further subsidence. A wine bottle deep within had already begun to slide towards the bottom of the sack, unseeable to either of the shrunken women. Like a chain reaction, other items shifted and slipped until gravity took over. The gap closed shut like a caving mine adit.
Alex was saved from a crushing death beneath a mountain of refuse, but the little brunette wasn't out of the woods just yet. The territorial spider managed to hitch a ride while still clinging to her legs, escaping the crushing fate itself. It's hairy, spindly appendages made the flesh on Alex's legs crawl. It sprung even further up Alex's body, ready to sink its deadly fangs into the invader.
If there's one thing Eva had learned since her reduction, it's that her reaction time had to be instantaneous to every new situation. The way a fly always managed to escape before swatting it. How a mouse could scurry away before you even process how to catch it. Her instincts had to be that honed. Being small meant death could find you in an instant, and human beings (for all their superior brainpower) have not evolved to react that quickly. Through much self-training and will of mind, Eva had taught herself to trust in her fight or flight instincts, and to move on them as quickly as possible.
Always fast on her feet, the second she saw the eight-legged monster still clinging to her would be friend, Eva extracted the knife from the easily accessible side pouch of her pack and plunged the tip into the spider's exoskeleton. The blade penetrated the hard, black hide of the eight-eyed vampire, nearly stabbing Alex as well as the blade's force passed through the underside of its abdomen.
The arachnid hissed and flailed in the manner it's kind experiences pain. Alexandra locked eyes with its many black eyes as they stared emotionlessly back. A moment so chilling that it would sear into her brain. A greenish-black ooze dripped from its insides and down onto Alex's torso, pooling and staining her clothing.
Using her knife to pry the still kicking spider from on top of Alex, Eva threw it against the wall, letting the fallen villain splatter across the brick under the force of her minute strength. Like Arthur extracting the sword from the stone, Eva placed a bare foot on its head and prayed her blade from its still twitching corpse. The creature came to rest plastered against the rough edge of a massive brick. She wiped the sticky gore still clinging to the blade against the back of her pant leg' then let a rocket of spit fly at the vanquished foe.
"Fuck me," Eva panted, "never had one of them fuckers come back for revenge before." The absurdity of the idea, that this mindless killing machine held any sort of complex human emotions such as love or vengeance, elicited a light chuckle from the victorious champion. "You alright, Alex? Alex?"
Not receiving an answer immediately, Eva's heart skipped a beat. She turned away from the ruins of the now-still spider, praying that nothing else had happened to her partner. Training had proved to be more of a chore than she'd bargained for. Eva heard Alex before she actually found her. A light sobbing coming from somewhere behind a moldy Domino's pizza box.
"Alex? You alright?" She repeated.
Rounding the corner of the grease-stained container, there was Alex, sitting in a ball with her back against the cardboard. Her tiny body only blotted out the final O in Dominos. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, with a barely noticeable rocking to her otherwise static state. Most of her face was hidden by her knees, but there was no mistake to be made about the sobbing sounds coming from behind them.
"Oh shit! Alex!" The larger one exclaimed. "Are you ok?! Didja git bit?!"
Alex didn't look up, but shook her head enough to let her concerned friend know she hadn't. Eva stood still, unsure of what to say. Shit, who could blame the rookie? Three years ago that could have been her losing her cool over something like what they'd just experienced. Alexandra hadn't been ready to face this giant world from the start, Eva could see that now. No cute little quip was gonna help Alex laugh the situation away this time. She took a seat next to her smaller companion and simply sat with her. Quietly. Without judgement.
The larger of the two allowed herself to lean back against the corrugated container. Even though their collective weights didn't amount to very much, the box still shifted backward. The feeling one gets in the pit of her stomach just before a fall hit Eva immediately. Before she even had a chance to catch herself, the little Texan found the even smaller New Yorker's arms wrapped snugly around her midsection.
"Thank you... Eva," Alexandra whispered.
Eva was a little surprised by the affectionate gesture, "hey... you'd do the same for me."
Alex held the larger woman tighter, finding comfort in a larger, stronger person the same way a child would a parent. "I couldn't do this without you."
Eva returned the embrace, allowing her arms to fall down around Alexandra's back. "Don't sell yourself short, pardnah. Not everyone can be born this friggin' awesome."
Finally, she was able to squeeze a laugh out of her crying associate. "I believe it."
The southerner gently patted Alex on the back to get her to release her hold. "As much as I'd love to sit here all day like this, Mistah D would be none too pleased if'n we don't git moving again." She wobbled back up to her feet, pulling Alex up with her.
"Right... the mission," the still shivering brunette replied with an unenthusiastic groan. "God forbid."
Eva let go of her diminutive companion, turning her attention to the rising cliff face before them. Not a cliff in actuality, but an edifice. The derelict building where Fulci's office awaited them. "We need to start looking fer a way in. A break in the foundation... a mouse hole... anything."
"How about an open window?" Alex replied, pointing towards a narrowly cracked pane of glass, barely visible behind another piled-up mountain of offensive smelling waste. Due to the angle, and had she followed Eva any nearer to the building, Alex wouldn't have spotted their way inside either.
After the morning they'd had, Eva couldn't believe their luck, "where?!"
Alex walked towards the hidden window. The crooked angle of the glass was a dead giveaway. "Right here... see?"
"Well shit! Look at lil' Alex Clark with the eagle eye!" Eva exclaimed. She congratulated her partner with a hard pat on the back, one with enough force to make Alex stumble forward. "Why the hell would someone leave that open with it smelling like an outhouse out here?"
"You got me," Alex admitted, "maybe the AC's broken? Or it's the landlord's half-assed way of venting radon? Either way, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The sooner we get out of this alley the better."
"I'll second that," Eva chuckled, "betcha ya ain't never snuck into a building disguised as a wadded up ball of newspaper before... I sure as shit have!"
The image of Eva wearing a rotund costume made of newsprint began to materialize in Alex's mind. A vision so ridiculous and comical that it instantly lifted her spirits enough to carry on. As not to insult the woman who just saved her life, Alex chose to keep those thoughts to herself.
As was her way, Eva took charge and entered the cracked window first. And again she was forced to crawl, but only to wedge herself between the ground and glass pane so that she could leverage a wider gap. Alex added a strained deadlift on her part until the duo managed to force the pivot point in the small, rectangular window to rotate. A screen, caked in dead insects, dirt and cobwebs was the first thing there to greet them. The scattered, dried-out shells of six-legged vermin crunched under the soles of their bare feet.
Eva cupped her hands over her eyes to shade them as she peered through the netting, allowing her vision to adjust to the darker chamber below. The ground dropped far below into the basement, filled with piping and conduits snaking across the ceiling to their destinations in the various apartments and offices above. Exposed electrical wire sagged across the main floor's support beams, none of which looked up to code. Stacks upon stacks of forgotten, water-stained cardboard boxes littered the floor like the ruins of a failed civilization wiped out by cataclysm. More than likely the result of an old, leaky water heater in need of replacing. Most importantly, for Alex and Eva's purposes, there was no one else in sight.
"Now what?" Alex asked as she pushed and pulled fruitlessly at the strong, netted barrier.
It was time for Eva's blade to make its second appearance of the morning. Beginning at the base of the screen, Eva began to carve away at the thinly wired squares. "This might take a while," she admitted. It took a significant amount of work just to get one wire to snap.
"I'm gonna need one of those for myself when we get back," Alex pointed out in reference to the blade. "I may hate everything about being here, but I also feel guilty about you having to pull all the weight."
"Ah!" Eva grunted as the next wire broke much easier than the first, "I'm almost twice as big as you. Of course I have more weight to pull!" She responded in jest.
"You know what I meant," Alex said in seriousness.
"I'm sure Mistah D could make it happen. The fells just needs to know he can trust ya before he starts putting too many sharp, pointy things in your hands."
Alexandra had to stand aside and watch Eva work as the tall ginger toiled away at the screen, thinking about her new mentor's words of advice. It felt like such a strange way of putting it... as though she were being recruited for service even though she'd already been drafted. Still, Eva had proven to Alex that she could trust her with her life, and perhaps she really could consider her a friend. It was the younger girl's undying loyalty to DeTorres that still left a lingering doubt. If and when a situation arose when a hard decision would have to be made... would Eva choose his side no matter what?
If this was the case, Alex figured she'd find herself right there in Eva's place... on some unknown future mission... engaged in a hit on an unfortunate stranger... but having to cut through a similar window screen with nothing but a feather. That's all the trust he'd ever get out Alexandra Clark.
Trust
He'd never get that kind of satisfaction from her.
Never.
End Part 15
"Eeeeeeevvaaaaaaaa!"
In any other situation, the spider may have simply run off to find a new little neglected corner of the world to call its own. Whatever motherly instincts one of nature's most perfect and efficient killers might possess kicked in. It had doubled back, across the top of the garbage bag, and waiting and watching through its many unblinking eyes. Allowing for the first and more intimidating of these strange creatures to pass though its tunnel. When the second, much smaller trespasser invaded its territory, further endangering its unborn offspring, like any other mother protecting its unborn brood, the spider leapt into an attack.
Alex kicked her legs wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs. The fanged menace's probing legs tapped at her own as it attempted to mount the tiny woman. The animal darted from left to right with such incredible bursts of speed. No matter how much Alex kicked and flailed, the arachnid managed to regain its hold on her legs, bouncing from the wall, then to the bag, then back on top of the other terrified mother occupying the tunnel.
Eva sprung into action. She dived back into the narrow passage, a crevice barely wide enough for her body to squeeze through. Alex was still clutching one of the shoulder straps of her backpack, so the resourceful redhead grabbed hold of the other. Despite Alex's wild and frantic motions, Eva held tight to the strap and used it to drag her partner out of the hole.
The larger woman's quick thinking came none too soon. Eva's efforts to save Alexandra were just enough to jostle the garbage bag into further subsidence. A wine bottle deep within had already begun to slide towards the bottom of the sack, unseeable to either of the shrunken women. Like a chain reaction, other items shifted and slipped until gravity took over. The gap closed shut like a caving mine adit.
Alex was saved from a crushing death beneath a mountain of refuse, but the little brunette wasn't out of the woods just yet. The territorial spider managed to hitch a ride while still clinging to her legs, escaping the crushing fate itself. It's hairy, spindly appendages made the flesh on Alex's legs crawl. It sprung even further up Alex's body, ready to sink its deadly fangs into the invader.
If there's one thing Eva had learned since her reduction, it's that her reaction time had to be instantaneous to every new situation. The way a fly always managed to escape before swatting it. How a mouse could scurry away before you even process how to catch it. Her instincts had to be that honed. Being small meant death could find you in an instant, and human beings (for all their superior brainpower) have not evolved to react that quickly. Through much self-training and will of mind, Eva had taught herself to trust in her fight or flight instincts, and to move on them as quickly as possible.
Always fast on her feet, the second she saw the eight-legged monster still clinging to her would be friend, Eva extracted the knife from the easily accessible side pouch of her pack and plunged the tip into the spider's exoskeleton. The blade penetrated the hard, black hide of the eight-eyed vampire, nearly stabbing Alex as well as the blade's force passed through the underside of its abdomen.
The arachnid hissed and flailed in the manner it's kind experiences pain. Alexandra locked eyes with its many black eyes as they stared emotionlessly back. A moment so chilling that it would sear into her brain. A greenish-black ooze dripped from its insides and down onto Alex's torso, pooling and staining her clothing.
Using her knife to pry the still kicking spider from on top of Alex, Eva threw it against the wall, letting the fallen villain splatter across the brick under the force of her minute strength. Like Arthur extracting the sword from the stone, Eva placed a bare foot on its head and prayed her blade from its still twitching corpse. The creature came to rest plastered against the rough edge of a massive brick. She wiped the sticky gore still clinging to the blade against the back of her pant leg' then let a rocket of spit fly at the vanquished foe.
"Fuck me," Eva panted, "never had one of them fuckers come back for revenge before." The absurdity of the idea, that this mindless killing machine held any sort of complex human emotions such as love or vengeance, elicited a light chuckle from the victorious champion. "You alright, Alex? Alex?"
Not receiving an answer immediately, Eva's heart skipped a beat. She turned away from the ruins of the now-still spider, praying that nothing else had happened to her partner. Training had proved to be more of a chore than she'd bargained for. Eva heard Alex before she actually found her. A light sobbing coming from somewhere behind a moldy Domino's pizza box.
"Alex? You alright?" She repeated.
Rounding the corner of the grease-stained container, there was Alex, sitting in a ball with her back against the cardboard. Her tiny body only blotted out the final O in Dominos. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, with a barely noticeable rocking to her otherwise static state. Most of her face was hidden by her knees, but there was no mistake to be made about the sobbing sounds coming from behind them.
"Oh shit! Alex!" The larger one exclaimed. "Are you ok?! Didja git bit?!"
Alex didn't look up, but shook her head enough to let her concerned friend know she hadn't. Eva stood still, unsure of what to say. Shit, who could blame the rookie? Three years ago that could have been her losing her cool over something like what they'd just experienced. Alexandra hadn't been ready to face this giant world from the start, Eva could see that now. No cute little quip was gonna help Alex laugh the situation away this time. She took a seat next to her smaller companion and simply sat with her. Quietly. Without judgement.
The larger of the two allowed herself to lean back against the corrugated container. Even though their collective weights didn't amount to very much, the box still shifted backward. The feeling one gets in the pit of her stomach just before a fall hit Eva immediately. Before she even had a chance to catch herself, the little Texan found the even smaller New Yorker's arms wrapped snugly around her midsection.
"Thank you... Eva," Alexandra whispered.
Eva was a little surprised by the affectionate gesture, "hey... you'd do the same for me."
Alex held the larger woman tighter, finding comfort in a larger, stronger person the same way a child would a parent. "I couldn't do this without you."
Eva returned the embrace, allowing her arms to fall down around Alexandra's back. "Don't sell yourself short, pardnah. Not everyone can be born this friggin' awesome."
Finally, she was able to squeeze a laugh out of her crying associate. "I believe it."
The southerner gently patted Alex on the back to get her to release her hold. "As much as I'd love to sit here all day like this, Mistah D would be none too pleased if'n we don't git moving again." She wobbled back up to her feet, pulling Alex up with her.
"Right... the mission," the still shivering brunette replied with an unenthusiastic groan. "God forbid."
Eva let go of her diminutive companion, turning her attention to the rising cliff face before them. Not a cliff in actuality, but an edifice. The derelict building where Fulci's office awaited them. "We need to start looking fer a way in. A break in the foundation... a mouse hole... anything."
"How about an open window?" Alex replied, pointing towards a narrowly cracked pane of glass, barely visible behind another piled-up mountain of offensive smelling waste. Due to the angle, and had she followed Eva any nearer to the building, Alex wouldn't have spotted their way inside either.
After the morning they'd had, Eva couldn't believe their luck, "where?!"
Alex walked towards the hidden window. The crooked angle of the glass was a dead giveaway. "Right here... see?"
"Well shit! Look at lil' Alex Clark with the eagle eye!" Eva exclaimed. She congratulated her partner with a hard pat on the back, one with enough force to make Alex stumble forward. "Why the hell would someone leave that open with it smelling like an outhouse out here?"
"You got me," Alex admitted, "maybe the AC's broken? Or it's the landlord's half-assed way of venting radon? Either way, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The sooner we get out of this alley the better."
"I'll second that," Eva chuckled, "betcha ya ain't never snuck into a building disguised as a wadded up ball of newspaper before... I sure as shit have!"
The image of Eva wearing a rotund costume made of newsprint began to materialize in Alex's mind. A vision so ridiculous and comical that it instantly lifted her spirits enough to carry on. As not to insult the woman who just saved her life, Alex chose to keep those thoughts to herself.
As was her way, Eva took charge and entered the cracked window first. And again she was forced to crawl, but only to wedge herself between the ground and glass pane so that she could leverage a wider gap. Alex added a strained deadlift on her part until the duo managed to force the pivot point in the small, rectangular window to rotate. A screen, caked in dead insects, dirt and cobwebs was the first thing there to greet them. The scattered, dried-out shells of six-legged vermin crunched under the soles of their bare feet.
Eva cupped her hands over her eyes to shade them as she peered through the netting, allowing her vision to adjust to the darker chamber below. The ground dropped far below into the basement, filled with piping and conduits snaking across the ceiling to their destinations in the various apartments and offices above. Exposed electrical wire sagged across the main floor's support beams, none of which looked up to code. Stacks upon stacks of forgotten, water-stained cardboard boxes littered the floor like the ruins of a failed civilization wiped out by cataclysm. More than likely the result of an old, leaky water heater in need of replacing. Most importantly, for Alex and Eva's purposes, there was no one else in sight.
"Now what?" Alex asked as she pushed and pulled fruitlessly at the strong, netted barrier.
It was time for Eva's blade to make its second appearance of the morning. Beginning at the base of the screen, Eva began to carve away at the thinly wired squares. "This might take a while," she admitted. It took a significant amount of work just to get one wire to snap.
"I'm gonna need one of those for myself when we get back," Alex pointed out in reference to the blade. "I may hate everything about being here, but I also feel guilty about you having to pull all the weight."
"Ah!" Eva grunted as the next wire broke much easier than the first, "I'm almost twice as big as you. Of course I have more weight to pull!" She responded in jest.
"You know what I meant," Alex said in seriousness.
"I'm sure Mistah D could make it happen. The fells just needs to know he can trust ya before he starts putting too many sharp, pointy things in your hands."
Alexandra had to stand aside and watch Eva work as the tall ginger toiled away at the screen, thinking about her new mentor's words of advice. It felt like such a strange way of putting it... as though she were being recruited for service even though she'd already been drafted. Still, Eva had proven to Alex that she could trust her with her life, and perhaps she really could consider her a friend. It was the younger girl's undying loyalty to DeTorres that still left a lingering doubt. If and when a situation arose when a hard decision would have to be made... would Eva choose his side no matter what?
If this was the case, Alex figured she'd find herself right there in Eva's place... on some unknown future mission... engaged in a hit on an unfortunate stranger... but having to cut through a similar window screen with nothing but a feather. That's all the trust he'd ever get out Alexandra Clark.
Trust
He'd never get that kind of satisfaction from her.
Never.
End Part 15
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
- Shrink Master
- Posts: 834
- Joined: Tue Nov 10, 2020 10:36 pm
- Location: Nebraska
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- Contact:
Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 16-"Ups and Downs"
Safety gear.
Christ, what Alex would have given for some basic safety gear.
This was far from the first dizzying height she had found herself hanging from. Back in her burglaring days, Alexandra knew there could be situations where at least some skill with climbing would come in handy. So, she took classes... even took trips to Moab to scale some red rock and Yosemite to try her hand at El Capitan (she chickened out at the last minute on the later). Her hands trembled as she released a little pressure from her grip of the thread. She kicked away from the foundation wall for another drop.
"Yer almost down! Just a few more feet!" Eva called up from safely below on the basement floor.
"You know a few more feet is like six stories for me, right?!" Alex snarked back, finding that a little sass helped to keep the fear of impending doom in check.
Eva remained the diligent cheerleader, "yer doin' great! Keep it up!"
Another hop and Alex felt the cold blocks of the foundation fall away from her feet. She released more slack and the adrenaline fueling sensation of freefall returned. Just as she had learned, Alex tightened her grip as she swung back towards the wall. Not a religious person by any measure, she still found herself praying the thin length of thread wouldn't snap. It stood as the only lifeline between a successful descent and death. There were no safety pads at the bottom of this wall, not like at the gym.
Keeping the thread looped loosely around her waist, Alex found she could control the speed with which she descended. She also bandaged her hands, cut plastic from one of the garbage sacks outside, to prevent burning her palms. The tiny repeller swung towards the wall again. The soles of her feet welcomed a relieving sense of terra firmer (in the vertical sense anyway) with each successful landing. Just a few more perfectly executed drops and Alex would reunite with her partner.
The sound of DeTorres's voice erupted through the speaker in both of the women's collars, jolting as abruptly as a lightning strike, "status update, Number One!" The speaker was just loud enough for a pair of shrunken ears to hear with ease, but virtually unnoticeable to anyone of normal size unless actively listening for it.
Alex's concentration failed. The abruptness and bad timing of Emil's check-in startled her mid-repel. She misplaced her footing, causing her to slam hard against the wall.
"Alex!" Eva screamed helplessly from down below. "Hang on!"
"I repeat... status update!" There was less patience in his voice this time around.
"Will you just answer the fucker so I can concentrate?!" Alex screamed out of fear-fueled anger.
Eva pressed the notch on the side of her collar to activate the microphone on her end, "ten four... Mistah D... this ain't the best time, over."
DeTorres's voice only grew more stern, "status update, Number One."
"We're inside the building! Number Two is right behind me, over!"
There was a brief pause before Emil replied, "you're behind schedule, Number One, over."
"Is he for real?!" Alex hollered in bewilderment. She was still struggling to right herself and regain her footing against the painted grey brick.
"I know," Eva replied, "I'm sorry... ran into trouble in the alley. We're back on track though, over."
"See to it that you are," Emil responded, then signed off. "Over and out."
Finally, Alexandra was able to place her the soles of her feet back against the face. She took a deep, clearing breath before bounding down the remaining distance to the floor. Her hatred for DeTorres had just had some extra fuel thrown on the fire.
"I told ya ya had this!" Eva beamed, wrapping her arms around Alexandra the second she touched down.
Alex wanted to call DeTorres every curse in the book and force Eva to listen, but again forced herself to hold back. As the bear hug from her partner continued, Alex stared back up at her grappling hook still lodged high on the windowsill, "what about that?"
"It'll have to stay put," Eva replied. "No gittin' it back from down here. Could end up being our way out anyway."
The thought of having to climb that fucking string all the way back up to the alley made Alexandra feel weak in the knees. Just as daunting, the way ahead seemed to mock her insignificant stature with its familiar, but seemingly impossible proportions. Fulci's office was on the fifth floor. This meant there were now six flights of stairs, instead of the five they were expecting! On top of that, they were now down to just one grappling hook. Alexandra cursed Emil's name under her breath for putting her through this.
Eva had already began to navigate her way through the stacked pinnacles of cardboard towards what she suspected was the staircase leading to the main floor. Though not as challenging as the alley had been, the basement floor was no less unpleasant. Roaches and god knows what else could be heard scurrying in the darkest corners. The smell of age and mildew were only overpowered by the unmistakable smell of rotting carcass. An animal had to have crawled in and died down there, at least they hoped it was an animal.
Oddly enough, a tiny stream was emptying into a floor drain near the center of the room, "hey! Look, Alex! Water!" Eva exclaimed. She instinctually followed the trickle to its source, and just as she'd thought, it was springing froman old, rusty water heater. There, she plunged her entire auburn head into the catch pan beneath the massive tank to cool herself off, along with several giant gulps while still submerged. Eva was grateful for some much needed refreshment before the long, miserable climb ahead.
Alex too made her way to the appliance, arriving just in time for her companion to flip her soaking wet hair back and soak the smaller woman. "Hey! Easy there!"
"Drink up, pipsqueak," Eva laughed, "who knows when we'll get another."
Alex approached the massive tank, only one of several lining the wall, with a certain weariness. A flood detector sat next to the tank, but the escaping trickle hadn't been enough to set the device off as of yet. She too needed to wash the stench of the alley away from herself, but remained keenly aware of every sound the massive water tank made. The rattling and dripping echoing through the cavernous space made the tiny brunette extremely nervous. She had to point out the obvious, no matter how on the nose and meta it may have felt to bring the subject up. "You ever see The Incredible Shrinking Man, Eva?"
"Old movies are boring," she replied, which Alex found amusing considering their situation, "I'd rather watch paint dry. Why?"
Alex stared back at the cheaply made... aging... and rusting metal belly full of scalding hot water. She imagined the slowly diminishing Scott Carry getting swept away in the rush of a raging torrent resulting from the failure of his own neglected water heater. They may not have been as small as he was in the film, but that didn't mean the giant white tank was any less dangerous for them.
"Oh... just thinking we shouldn't linger here much longer," the smaller of the two gave her two cents.
"You're right, Mistah D didna sound too pleased," Eva agreed, even though it wasn't at all what Alexandra was alluding to. Their trek across the basement floor resumed.
Before long, the shrunken pair found themselves at the base of the stairs. Each step would have been steep for a normal sized person, let alone the unfortunate pair of shrunken ladies staring up at it with dread. The staircase was an unfinished, haphazardly constructed, and rickety obstacle that made Eva's heart sink just as much as Alex's. More than a ladder, but less than a proper staircase. Rot and moisture had infiltrated the wood of each and every step.
"Didn't think you'd be scaling pyramids this mornin', didja?" Eva joked, trying to conceal her own concern about their next daunting undertaking.
Alex just shook her head, "how are we gonna do this?"
"One step at a time," Eva replied, "just you watch."
The girl from Austin removed the remaining fish hook grapple from her pack and tied her own spool of thread through its loop. She tugged on other end, testing her knot to make sure it wouldn't fail them during the long climb. At seven inches tall, even standing on her toes with her arms outstretched, Eva still couldn't reach the top of the first step... so Alex had no chance. A gentle toss over the edge, then dragging it back until the razor sharp barbs catch the rot-softened wood, and the rigorous climb would begin.
As Eva began to pull herself up, she instructed Alex how to best climb a set of stairs without over exerting oneself. "See! If you use the angled supports and just walk your way up the edges, it makes things so much easier than just tying to climb the thread alone."
It was simple, yet effective knowledge she'd accumulated through much experience. Within a few steps along the incline, she had reached the top of the first rung in no time flat. Alex couldn't help but admire her partner for her resourcefulness and in getting them this far. Eva may have been a bit ditzy, but seemed completely unaffected by her reduced stature. If anything, her smallness seemed to excite her, like the most mundane of activities suddenly became an adventure for her. Alex pondered whether or not she could learn to accept her shrunken existence as Eva had.
"You comin' or what?" Eva coaxed, eager to make up lost time so as it to upset DeTorres further.
Setting aside her distracted thoughts, Alexandra took hold of the string. The climb was intimidating, for sure, but with Eva's help she was sure she could do it. The next five flights might be a different scenario altogether, but that was for future Alexandra to worry about.
That's when an idea struck her.
She peered back towards the water heater, then back to Eva. The flood detector! "Wait a minute, that device on the floor next to the heater, do you know what that is?"
Eva looked to where Alex was pointing, "no... why? Should I?"
"I think... it could work...," the gears in Alexandra's head were turning, setting up metaphorical dominos and trying to rule out anything that might get them killed, "Eva... I have an idea..."
End Part 16
Safety gear.
Christ, what Alex would have given for some basic safety gear.
This was far from the first dizzying height she had found herself hanging from. Back in her burglaring days, Alexandra knew there could be situations where at least some skill with climbing would come in handy. So, she took classes... even took trips to Moab to scale some red rock and Yosemite to try her hand at El Capitan (she chickened out at the last minute on the later). Her hands trembled as she released a little pressure from her grip of the thread. She kicked away from the foundation wall for another drop.
"Yer almost down! Just a few more feet!" Eva called up from safely below on the basement floor.
"You know a few more feet is like six stories for me, right?!" Alex snarked back, finding that a little sass helped to keep the fear of impending doom in check.
Eva remained the diligent cheerleader, "yer doin' great! Keep it up!"
Another hop and Alex felt the cold blocks of the foundation fall away from her feet. She released more slack and the adrenaline fueling sensation of freefall returned. Just as she had learned, Alex tightened her grip as she swung back towards the wall. Not a religious person by any measure, she still found herself praying the thin length of thread wouldn't snap. It stood as the only lifeline between a successful descent and death. There were no safety pads at the bottom of this wall, not like at the gym.
Keeping the thread looped loosely around her waist, Alex found she could control the speed with which she descended. She also bandaged her hands, cut plastic from one of the garbage sacks outside, to prevent burning her palms. The tiny repeller swung towards the wall again. The soles of her feet welcomed a relieving sense of terra firmer (in the vertical sense anyway) with each successful landing. Just a few more perfectly executed drops and Alex would reunite with her partner.
The sound of DeTorres's voice erupted through the speaker in both of the women's collars, jolting as abruptly as a lightning strike, "status update, Number One!" The speaker was just loud enough for a pair of shrunken ears to hear with ease, but virtually unnoticeable to anyone of normal size unless actively listening for it.
Alex's concentration failed. The abruptness and bad timing of Emil's check-in startled her mid-repel. She misplaced her footing, causing her to slam hard against the wall.
"Alex!" Eva screamed helplessly from down below. "Hang on!"
"I repeat... status update!" There was less patience in his voice this time around.
"Will you just answer the fucker so I can concentrate?!" Alex screamed out of fear-fueled anger.
Eva pressed the notch on the side of her collar to activate the microphone on her end, "ten four... Mistah D... this ain't the best time, over."
DeTorres's voice only grew more stern, "status update, Number One."
"We're inside the building! Number Two is right behind me, over!"
There was a brief pause before Emil replied, "you're behind schedule, Number One, over."
"Is he for real?!" Alex hollered in bewilderment. She was still struggling to right herself and regain her footing against the painted grey brick.
"I know," Eva replied, "I'm sorry... ran into trouble in the alley. We're back on track though, over."
"See to it that you are," Emil responded, then signed off. "Over and out."
Finally, Alexandra was able to place her the soles of her feet back against the face. She took a deep, clearing breath before bounding down the remaining distance to the floor. Her hatred for DeTorres had just had some extra fuel thrown on the fire.
"I told ya ya had this!" Eva beamed, wrapping her arms around Alexandra the second she touched down.
Alex wanted to call DeTorres every curse in the book and force Eva to listen, but again forced herself to hold back. As the bear hug from her partner continued, Alex stared back up at her grappling hook still lodged high on the windowsill, "what about that?"
"It'll have to stay put," Eva replied. "No gittin' it back from down here. Could end up being our way out anyway."
The thought of having to climb that fucking string all the way back up to the alley made Alexandra feel weak in the knees. Just as daunting, the way ahead seemed to mock her insignificant stature with its familiar, but seemingly impossible proportions. Fulci's office was on the fifth floor. This meant there were now six flights of stairs, instead of the five they were expecting! On top of that, they were now down to just one grappling hook. Alexandra cursed Emil's name under her breath for putting her through this.
Eva had already began to navigate her way through the stacked pinnacles of cardboard towards what she suspected was the staircase leading to the main floor. Though not as challenging as the alley had been, the basement floor was no less unpleasant. Roaches and god knows what else could be heard scurrying in the darkest corners. The smell of age and mildew were only overpowered by the unmistakable smell of rotting carcass. An animal had to have crawled in and died down there, at least they hoped it was an animal.
Oddly enough, a tiny stream was emptying into a floor drain near the center of the room, "hey! Look, Alex! Water!" Eva exclaimed. She instinctually followed the trickle to its source, and just as she'd thought, it was springing froman old, rusty water heater. There, she plunged her entire auburn head into the catch pan beneath the massive tank to cool herself off, along with several giant gulps while still submerged. Eva was grateful for some much needed refreshment before the long, miserable climb ahead.
Alex too made her way to the appliance, arriving just in time for her companion to flip her soaking wet hair back and soak the smaller woman. "Hey! Easy there!"
"Drink up, pipsqueak," Eva laughed, "who knows when we'll get another."
Alex approached the massive tank, only one of several lining the wall, with a certain weariness. A flood detector sat next to the tank, but the escaping trickle hadn't been enough to set the device off as of yet. She too needed to wash the stench of the alley away from herself, but remained keenly aware of every sound the massive water tank made. The rattling and dripping echoing through the cavernous space made the tiny brunette extremely nervous. She had to point out the obvious, no matter how on the nose and meta it may have felt to bring the subject up. "You ever see The Incredible Shrinking Man, Eva?"
"Old movies are boring," she replied, which Alex found amusing considering their situation, "I'd rather watch paint dry. Why?"
Alex stared back at the cheaply made... aging... and rusting metal belly full of scalding hot water. She imagined the slowly diminishing Scott Carry getting swept away in the rush of a raging torrent resulting from the failure of his own neglected water heater. They may not have been as small as he was in the film, but that didn't mean the giant white tank was any less dangerous for them.
"Oh... just thinking we shouldn't linger here much longer," the smaller of the two gave her two cents.
"You're right, Mistah D didna sound too pleased," Eva agreed, even though it wasn't at all what Alexandra was alluding to. Their trek across the basement floor resumed.
Before long, the shrunken pair found themselves at the base of the stairs. Each step would have been steep for a normal sized person, let alone the unfortunate pair of shrunken ladies staring up at it with dread. The staircase was an unfinished, haphazardly constructed, and rickety obstacle that made Eva's heart sink just as much as Alex's. More than a ladder, but less than a proper staircase. Rot and moisture had infiltrated the wood of each and every step.
"Didn't think you'd be scaling pyramids this mornin', didja?" Eva joked, trying to conceal her own concern about their next daunting undertaking.
Alex just shook her head, "how are we gonna do this?"
"One step at a time," Eva replied, "just you watch."
The girl from Austin removed the remaining fish hook grapple from her pack and tied her own spool of thread through its loop. She tugged on other end, testing her knot to make sure it wouldn't fail them during the long climb. At seven inches tall, even standing on her toes with her arms outstretched, Eva still couldn't reach the top of the first step... so Alex had no chance. A gentle toss over the edge, then dragging it back until the razor sharp barbs catch the rot-softened wood, and the rigorous climb would begin.
As Eva began to pull herself up, she instructed Alex how to best climb a set of stairs without over exerting oneself. "See! If you use the angled supports and just walk your way up the edges, it makes things so much easier than just tying to climb the thread alone."
It was simple, yet effective knowledge she'd accumulated through much experience. Within a few steps along the incline, she had reached the top of the first rung in no time flat. Alex couldn't help but admire her partner for her resourcefulness and in getting them this far. Eva may have been a bit ditzy, but seemed completely unaffected by her reduced stature. If anything, her smallness seemed to excite her, like the most mundane of activities suddenly became an adventure for her. Alex pondered whether or not she could learn to accept her shrunken existence as Eva had.
"You comin' or what?" Eva coaxed, eager to make up lost time so as it to upset DeTorres further.
Setting aside her distracted thoughts, Alexandra took hold of the string. The climb was intimidating, for sure, but with Eva's help she was sure she could do it. The next five flights might be a different scenario altogether, but that was for future Alexandra to worry about.
That's when an idea struck her.
She peered back towards the water heater, then back to Eva. The flood detector! "Wait a minute, that device on the floor next to the heater, do you know what that is?"
Eva looked to where Alex was pointing, "no... why? Should I?"
"I think... it could work...," the gears in Alexandra's head were turning, setting up metaphorical dominos and trying to rule out anything that might get them killed, "Eva... I have an idea..."
End Part 16
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 17-"Rising Waters"
"Ok then, let's hear it!" Eva replied, anxious to get along with the long climb. If her partner had figured a way to out of it, she was certainly all ears.
"Well," Alex began, "even if we get to the top of the stairs, we still don't know if there's a way through or around that door."
Eva agreed, "true. Wouldna be the first time I had to tunnel through drywall. Though, this building looks fairly old... could be plaster, which is no picnic."
"Exactly!" Alex placed a foot on the incline, closing the gap between she and Eva a little more, "so, why don't we get someone else to open it for us?"
"And how exactly do we do that?" Eva inquired. Skeptical, but hopeful.
"That device on he floor next to the tank," Alex explained, "it's a sensor. It detects excessive moisture, and most importantly for our purposes... flooding,"
Eva crossed her arms in front of her, "alright... so... how's that s'posed ta help us?"
"This building has to have a superintendent, right? Let's say we set off that alarm; they'll have to come down here and deal with it," the little brunette's plan unfolded before them. "At worst, they will probably leave the door open to air out the room, giving us time to get up the stairs and onto the next set. But at best..."
Eva was now leaning over the edge of the first step, looking down on Alexandra with heavy interest, "yeah?"
Alex grinned. She may not have been cut out for the assassination profession, but she could still treat this job like it were any other heist, exactly as DeTorres had hoped for. Brainstorming her way out of problems like this one was always her favorite part of the work. "At best... they've got a tool box with them. We simply hitch a ride, our own personal elevator! I don't know what floor the super may live on, but it'll at least save our legs from climbing a story or two, right?"
Eva stood up straight, rubbing the back of her neck as she contemplated Alexandra's proposal. "A lot could go wrong. We could be seen. Or worse yet, drowned or crushed. It's pretty risky." Alex half expected the younger but significantly taller member of their team to shut her plan right down. That was before Eva too began to smile, "I love it! Sounds like a hoot and half!"
She climbed back down from the atop the first rickety step to rejoin Alex on the cold basement floor, "alright, pipsqueak... do we just splash some water on the thing to set it off?"
The smaller of the two responded with a sigh, "I'm afraid that won't be enough. The building manager may just ignore the alarm if it isn't constant, and they may just set it back up if we only knock it over. No tool box, and no reason to leave the door open when they leave. We..."
Alexandra couldn't believe what she was about to suggest. Just minutes ago she was filled with anxiety at the very thought of something like this happening. A burst water heater nearly killed the incredible shrinking Scott Carey in the movie, but they were about to empty one on purpose. From their perspective, it would be like surviving a dam failure.
"We open the valve on one of those tanks and then run for the high ground," she replied. "There needs to be an actual problem to be fixed. We need to flood the basement."
"Haha!" Eva laughed, slapping Alex on the back, "yes! I knew you weren't the stick in the mud you let everyone believe!"
Alex blushed.
Reinvigorated by the recklessness of what they were about to attempt, Eva couldn't wait to get started. The two made their way back towards the water heater as quickly as they could, already the first roadblock in Alex's plan presented itself. The ginger Texan observed as the trickle of water already leaking from the appliance make its way towards the center of the room, then disappeared down floor drain. "Wait, Alex...won't it all just empty down the drain?"
Alex, still bit behind Eva as she found it hard to keep up with the long strides of her partner, scanned the perimeter of the shadowy basement. Details of the clutter making up the basement weren't easy to make out, the only light source coming from the very window they'd just entered through. She continued to walk the floor towards the wall until she spotted something that could potentially solve the drain problem.
"Not if we clog it up first. Come on, help me with this!"
Along the wall, adjacent the row of water heaters, was a stack of old paint cans, each with colored drip trails of brown, yellow, and white dried to their labels. Each can was large enough that it could easily serve as a cozy living space for an individual as tiny as Alexandra Clark. The cans themselves were not quite what drew her attention, but a lone lid, unsealed and left teetering on the lip of one of the massive canisters.
The paint had hardened so long ago that the metal disc was glued to the rim. Even hanging from its edge, Eva was unable to budge it. Alex accepted a boost from her larger companion and was able pull herself over the rim. The shrunken mother inched to the edge of the paint lid, taking Eva's blade with her. She cut away at the old, dry latex paint to loosen its hold, then approached the edge once again. There, she began to hop up and down on the lid as though it were a circular diving board. Though certain the paint inside the canister has solidified long ago, Alexandra didn't want to find out the hard way and get trapped in a chunky, soupy sludge of brown within the can.
Beneath her feet, Alex could feel the circular plank begin to give, but only weighing a few ounces hardly offered the leverage needed. Again, she thought of the tiny, but resourceful Scott Carey. Nearly falling to his death as he dangled precariously over the suspended handle of a crusty mixing stick. The similarities to her own situation couldn't have felt more surreal. Alex decided to change tactics. Instead, she reached over with both arms extended to grab hold of Eva's.
"You can't be serious?" Eva laughed. Did Alexandra really think she could lift someone so much larger than she?
"Come on! Grab hold!" Alex hollered back.
Eva laughed, "alright, you asked for it, pipsqueak."
With a slight hop of her own, Eva clasped her hands around Alex's even more petite wrists and attempted to pull herself up. What she didn't realize was that Alex had no intention of trying to hall her seven inch friend over the edge. Such a feat would have been practically impossible for her. What Eva's extra weight did offer was enough leverage to break the remaining seal of the caked-on paint. Now, with the two of them hanging over the edge of the lid, the old latex stretched and sapped free, sending Eva toppling backwards. Alex and the lid followed, landing on top of Eva one after another.
"I already told ya, Alex...," Eva couldn't help but laugh as Alex seemed to have a knack for landing in unlucky places (or extremely lucky, depending on the perspective), "I'm flattered, but I don't plan on buying a Subaru anytime soon."
Lifting her head from between the soft flesh of Eva's breasts, Alex shot her companion an unamused, Kubrickian stare, "yuck yuck, har har." She slid off from atop Eva's stomach and pushed the lid aside. After dusting themselves off, the pair of clever tinies then carried the the trampoline-sized disc across the floor and dropped it directly on top of the drain. Silverfish, looking as big as rodents, basked around the edge of the drain. As the tiny invaders dropped the lid, those that had not evacuated into the sewers already were crushed instantly. Alex's plan was working, the trickling stream was already backing up and pooling behind the lid. Like building a dam in the creek as a kid.
"You think it's enough," asked Eva.
"It's not like it's gonna float away," Alex replied.
Simultaneously, the shrunken women turned their attention to the leaking water tank. Time ticked away quickly and DeTorres was sure to be calling for another update anytime soon. If they hadn't yet found their way out of the basement, Eva was certain there would be judgement, followed by some form of punishment later on. Though she'd never found herself on the wrong end of one of her boss's corrections, as he preferred to call them, the others had... and it was no picnic. Just to complicate matters more, wasn't just her wellbeing, or Alex's at stake, it was Alex's family too.
The pair crawled over the metal lip of the overflow pan and waded towards the valve. The water felt quite cool considering where it was coming from. Each positioned themselves on either side of the sturdy wheel and took hold, hoping they could force it to turn.
"You ready for this?" Eva smiled through gritted teeth.
"Righty tightly, lefty loosey," was Alex's response.
With all their pathetic might, the two of them leaned into the turn. The stiffness of the knob was incredible, like it had never been released before. It may very well not have, considering the state of the water heater. Every muscle in their tiny bodies strained and flexed before the wheel finally squeaked and rotated, if only slightly. Water dripped intermittently from the faucet.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Again!" Alex screamed, just as much to boost her own adrenaline as a signal to Eva.
With another burst of strength, the valve turned much easier this time.
Drip. Drip. Dripdripdripdripdrip.
The slow drip sped up to a constant stream, but still nothing more than a trickle. Both could feel the water rising around them in the overflow pan.
Alex screamed again, "one more time, Eva!"
This time, the faucet moved freely. It still took the two of them to turn the wheel, but with much more ease. Water gushed from the opening with increasing intensity. It was working, and with a few more turns, the valve was fully opened.
Eva ducked beneath the emptying faucet, immediately wrapping her arms around Alexandra, both laughing and cheering with excitement. The stream had become a river, one that quickly overwhelmed the lowest area of the basement where the drain was situated. The tiny pool above the lid was quickly growing into a lake. The water in the overflow pan warmed increasingly as the seconds ticked by. The temperature inside the tank was just that hot.
An abrupt, ear-piecing scream filled the air. A sound so loud and overpowering that it forced Alex and Eva to cover their ears. The flood detectors had been tripped. The increasing heat in the pan and the close proximity of the alarm gave the tiny pair few options but to flee towards the stairs once again.
The plan was in motion. There was nothing left to do but take the high ground, brace themselves, and wait for the door at the peak of the steep mountain of stairs to crack open.
End Part 17
"Ok then, let's hear it!" Eva replied, anxious to get along with the long climb. If her partner had figured a way to out of it, she was certainly all ears.
"Well," Alex began, "even if we get to the top of the stairs, we still don't know if there's a way through or around that door."
Eva agreed, "true. Wouldna be the first time I had to tunnel through drywall. Though, this building looks fairly old... could be plaster, which is no picnic."
"Exactly!" Alex placed a foot on the incline, closing the gap between she and Eva a little more, "so, why don't we get someone else to open it for us?"
"And how exactly do we do that?" Eva inquired. Skeptical, but hopeful.
"That device on he floor next to the tank," Alex explained, "it's a sensor. It detects excessive moisture, and most importantly for our purposes... flooding,"
Eva crossed her arms in front of her, "alright... so... how's that s'posed ta help us?"
"This building has to have a superintendent, right? Let's say we set off that alarm; they'll have to come down here and deal with it," the little brunette's plan unfolded before them. "At worst, they will probably leave the door open to air out the room, giving us time to get up the stairs and onto the next set. But at best..."
Eva was now leaning over the edge of the first step, looking down on Alexandra with heavy interest, "yeah?"
Alex grinned. She may not have been cut out for the assassination profession, but she could still treat this job like it were any other heist, exactly as DeTorres had hoped for. Brainstorming her way out of problems like this one was always her favorite part of the work. "At best... they've got a tool box with them. We simply hitch a ride, our own personal elevator! I don't know what floor the super may live on, but it'll at least save our legs from climbing a story or two, right?"
Eva stood up straight, rubbing the back of her neck as she contemplated Alexandra's proposal. "A lot could go wrong. We could be seen. Or worse yet, drowned or crushed. It's pretty risky." Alex half expected the younger but significantly taller member of their team to shut her plan right down. That was before Eva too began to smile, "I love it! Sounds like a hoot and half!"
She climbed back down from the atop the first rickety step to rejoin Alex on the cold basement floor, "alright, pipsqueak... do we just splash some water on the thing to set it off?"
The smaller of the two responded with a sigh, "I'm afraid that won't be enough. The building manager may just ignore the alarm if it isn't constant, and they may just set it back up if we only knock it over. No tool box, and no reason to leave the door open when they leave. We..."
Alexandra couldn't believe what she was about to suggest. Just minutes ago she was filled with anxiety at the very thought of something like this happening. A burst water heater nearly killed the incredible shrinking Scott Carey in the movie, but they were about to empty one on purpose. From their perspective, it would be like surviving a dam failure.
"We open the valve on one of those tanks and then run for the high ground," she replied. "There needs to be an actual problem to be fixed. We need to flood the basement."
"Haha!" Eva laughed, slapping Alex on the back, "yes! I knew you weren't the stick in the mud you let everyone believe!"
Alex blushed.
Reinvigorated by the recklessness of what they were about to attempt, Eva couldn't wait to get started. The two made their way back towards the water heater as quickly as they could, already the first roadblock in Alex's plan presented itself. The ginger Texan observed as the trickle of water already leaking from the appliance make its way towards the center of the room, then disappeared down floor drain. "Wait, Alex...won't it all just empty down the drain?"
Alex, still bit behind Eva as she found it hard to keep up with the long strides of her partner, scanned the perimeter of the shadowy basement. Details of the clutter making up the basement weren't easy to make out, the only light source coming from the very window they'd just entered through. She continued to walk the floor towards the wall until she spotted something that could potentially solve the drain problem.
"Not if we clog it up first. Come on, help me with this!"
Along the wall, adjacent the row of water heaters, was a stack of old paint cans, each with colored drip trails of brown, yellow, and white dried to their labels. Each can was large enough that it could easily serve as a cozy living space for an individual as tiny as Alexandra Clark. The cans themselves were not quite what drew her attention, but a lone lid, unsealed and left teetering on the lip of one of the massive canisters.
The paint had hardened so long ago that the metal disc was glued to the rim. Even hanging from its edge, Eva was unable to budge it. Alex accepted a boost from her larger companion and was able pull herself over the rim. The shrunken mother inched to the edge of the paint lid, taking Eva's blade with her. She cut away at the old, dry latex paint to loosen its hold, then approached the edge once again. There, she began to hop up and down on the lid as though it were a circular diving board. Though certain the paint inside the canister has solidified long ago, Alexandra didn't want to find out the hard way and get trapped in a chunky, soupy sludge of brown within the can.
Beneath her feet, Alex could feel the circular plank begin to give, but only weighing a few ounces hardly offered the leverage needed. Again, she thought of the tiny, but resourceful Scott Carey. Nearly falling to his death as he dangled precariously over the suspended handle of a crusty mixing stick. The similarities to her own situation couldn't have felt more surreal. Alex decided to change tactics. Instead, she reached over with both arms extended to grab hold of Eva's.
"You can't be serious?" Eva laughed. Did Alexandra really think she could lift someone so much larger than she?
"Come on! Grab hold!" Alex hollered back.
Eva laughed, "alright, you asked for it, pipsqueak."
With a slight hop of her own, Eva clasped her hands around Alex's even more petite wrists and attempted to pull herself up. What she didn't realize was that Alex had no intention of trying to hall her seven inch friend over the edge. Such a feat would have been practically impossible for her. What Eva's extra weight did offer was enough leverage to break the remaining seal of the caked-on paint. Now, with the two of them hanging over the edge of the lid, the old latex stretched and sapped free, sending Eva toppling backwards. Alex and the lid followed, landing on top of Eva one after another.
"I already told ya, Alex...," Eva couldn't help but laugh as Alex seemed to have a knack for landing in unlucky places (or extremely lucky, depending on the perspective), "I'm flattered, but I don't plan on buying a Subaru anytime soon."
Lifting her head from between the soft flesh of Eva's breasts, Alex shot her companion an unamused, Kubrickian stare, "yuck yuck, har har." She slid off from atop Eva's stomach and pushed the lid aside. After dusting themselves off, the pair of clever tinies then carried the the trampoline-sized disc across the floor and dropped it directly on top of the drain. Silverfish, looking as big as rodents, basked around the edge of the drain. As the tiny invaders dropped the lid, those that had not evacuated into the sewers already were crushed instantly. Alex's plan was working, the trickling stream was already backing up and pooling behind the lid. Like building a dam in the creek as a kid.
"You think it's enough," asked Eva.
"It's not like it's gonna float away," Alex replied.
Simultaneously, the shrunken women turned their attention to the leaking water tank. Time ticked away quickly and DeTorres was sure to be calling for another update anytime soon. If they hadn't yet found their way out of the basement, Eva was certain there would be judgement, followed by some form of punishment later on. Though she'd never found herself on the wrong end of one of her boss's corrections, as he preferred to call them, the others had... and it was no picnic. Just to complicate matters more, wasn't just her wellbeing, or Alex's at stake, it was Alex's family too.
The pair crawled over the metal lip of the overflow pan and waded towards the valve. The water felt quite cool considering where it was coming from. Each positioned themselves on either side of the sturdy wheel and took hold, hoping they could force it to turn.
"You ready for this?" Eva smiled through gritted teeth.
"Righty tightly, lefty loosey," was Alex's response.
With all their pathetic might, the two of them leaned into the turn. The stiffness of the knob was incredible, like it had never been released before. It may very well not have, considering the state of the water heater. Every muscle in their tiny bodies strained and flexed before the wheel finally squeaked and rotated, if only slightly. Water dripped intermittently from the faucet.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Again!" Alex screamed, just as much to boost her own adrenaline as a signal to Eva.
With another burst of strength, the valve turned much easier this time.
Drip. Drip. Dripdripdripdripdrip.
The slow drip sped up to a constant stream, but still nothing more than a trickle. Both could feel the water rising around them in the overflow pan.
Alex screamed again, "one more time, Eva!"
This time, the faucet moved freely. It still took the two of them to turn the wheel, but with much more ease. Water gushed from the opening with increasing intensity. It was working, and with a few more turns, the valve was fully opened.
Eva ducked beneath the emptying faucet, immediately wrapping her arms around Alexandra, both laughing and cheering with excitement. The stream had become a river, one that quickly overwhelmed the lowest area of the basement where the drain was situated. The tiny pool above the lid was quickly growing into a lake. The water in the overflow pan warmed increasingly as the seconds ticked by. The temperature inside the tank was just that hot.
An abrupt, ear-piecing scream filled the air. A sound so loud and overpowering that it forced Alex and Eva to cover their ears. The flood detectors had been tripped. The increasing heat in the pan and the close proximity of the alarm gave the tiny pair few options but to flee towards the stairs once again.
The plan was in motion. There was nothing left to do but take the high ground, brace themselves, and wait for the door at the peak of the steep mountain of stairs to crack open.
End Part 17
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 18-"A Man's Home is His Castle, and His Basement is His Moat"
"I tell you! I tell you and you no listen!"
Dean Roper did his best to shove past Mrs. Rodriguez, the elderly Puerto Rican woman living in 1B. She'd always been a good tenant, paid her rent on time, kept her apartment neat. Otherwise he'd have told her where to go and how to get there. Just because she paid the bills didn't mean she had the most agreeable personality. Plus, Dean had little patience for his tenants when they decided to get pushy with him. He had little patience for anyone really. The obnoxious wail of the flood alarm blaring from the basement like an air raid siren, combined with the old hen clucking in his ear, had old Dean's nerves on edge. He hadn't even seen the disaster waiting for him bellow yet. The man was already this close to blowing his top.
"I tell you, boiler no good!" Mrs. Rodriguez continued to badger her negligent landlord.
"It's not a boiler, but yes," Dean agreed in the calmest tone he could muster, "yes you did. It was on my list."
This did little to stifle the old woman's irritation, "I no have hot water! I shower, no hot water!"
Dean made his way past Mrs. Rodriguez, still trying to ignore her, thinking seriously about grabbing her by the collar of her moomoo and tossing her down the steps. This didn't seem to make any difference to the old woman. She continued to berate him, even as he pushed through the door to the cellar. It took a some feeling around the wall to find the light switch, but when he did, the sight at the bottom of the stairs made his heart sink.
"Fuck my life."
"You see!" Mrs Rodriguez continued on her obnoxious loop. The basement was entirely flooded out. A rat carcass, still ensnared in a mouse trap, floated by and then disappeared beneath the stairs. "I tell you! I tell you! You no listen!"
"Just stay here, will ya!" Dean attempted to cut her off, but to no avail. Mrs. Rodriquez's tirade continued in perfect harmony with the screaming alarm below. "I'll go down and check it out."
With tool box in hand, Roper began his descent down the rickety stairs, another item on his honey-do list he intended to fix... some day. With no honey in his life to nag him about getting work done, things just had a way of piling up until they became a problem he could no longer ignore.
Each step buckled with age, even under his spindly legs. It wouldn't be too much longer before they completely rotted away. One careful placement of each foot, feeling his full weight shift before attempting the next rung, Dean eventually reached the bottom. He stepped into the water, which at the time was probably no more than ankle deep. Within seconds, his worn out boots filled with cold, squishing liquid. Shaking his head in disgust, Dean set his tool box down on one of the steps. He removed a rusty pipe wrench from the caddy before approaching the line of rusty water tanks, every one in need of replacement.
"This is our chance! Go!" Alexandra signaled.
She and Eva had been wading patiently in the rising waters, hidden behind the stairs. From the moment he set foot on the top step, the shrunken duo could almost feel the weight of the superintendent's heavy footfalls as he neared the basement floor. A relatively slim and frail looking man, the planks that made up the stairs were just that rotted. They could see the wood actually bending under the strain this giant exerted on their tired existence. When his boots splashed down in the newly formed reservoir, the wave he created carried with it enough energy to momentarily wash their tiny figures away from the steps into the swirling lagoon.
Suddenly, the two shrunken assassins found themselves competing for drier ground with the roaches and mice. Forced to use the grapple to pull themselves out of the very lake they'd created onto the relative safety of the bottom step. They remained extremely cautious, even once out of the rising water. There were two giants to contend with after all. The superintendent himself, and now this irate loudmouth filling out a faded blue moo moo and making an absolute scene at the top of the stairs.
"You fix! You fix now!"
The tool box sat on the third step up from the bottom, making a short, but doable climb necessary. The container was not so much a box as it was a caddy, or tray with a handle, open style without a lid. No chance of getting locked in, perfect for the purposes of a certain pair of shrunken assassins hiding in the shadows. Alex and Eva to care to position themselves, as they scurried up the line, so that the box obscured the obnoxious giantess's view of their infiltration. Adrenaline alone was enough to get them up the steps quickly.
"I'm not sure what's worse," Eva groaned, "the alarm... or that fat bitch's mouth!"
"Don't get distracted," Alex chastised, "we need to hurry. Look! He's already found the lid!"
Alex was right, the drain was the first place Dean inspected. He lifted the paint can topper out of the water with far greater ease than it took the two tiny women to place it there. He didn't even look at it, just tossed it aside. Back into the stack of cans from whence it came. Upon its removal, a massive whirlpool began to form. An awe inspiring sight for anyone as small as Alex or even Eva, despite the maelstrom only developing in a few inches of water.
"Come on, there's just one more step to go." Alex pulled herself up the thread first for a change. Her heart was pumping like a steam engine and sweat greased her palms. Had Brad and Danielle's lives not been on the line, she most certainly would have tried to get the attention of either one of the giants. For now, she'd have to play by the rules... but a plan to rid herself of this miserable existence once and for all had already begun to take shape, unbeknownst to her partner.
Once the women had reached the third step, they made sure to put themselves between the steel box and the wall to further avoid detection. Across the room, Roper had removed the flood detector from the water and set it down on top of the heater itself. If nothing else, at least THAT godawful noise finally ceased. Humans large and small no longer needed to shout over the squealing alarm to hear one another, but that didn't seem to lower the volume of Mrs. Rodriguez's voice one single octave.
Eva helped Alex over the dinged-up metal edge first and let the smaller woman drop inside. Using the shoddily welded corners as grip for her footing, the larger one toppled head over heels into the red container herself, and not a moment too soon. The squeaking turn of the water heater's valve signaled that their clever rouse had been discovered.
"Ha! I knew it!" Dean scoffed. "Those little shits of yours been fuckin' around down here again."
Mrs. Rodriguez remained unconvinced, "is bad! You fix! Need new one!"
Dean had had enough. He threw his pipe wrench down against the tool box, and threw it goddamn hard. The caddy and all the tools within shook like a truck running into a wall. "How many times I told you to keep yuhs fuckin' grandkids outta heeyah? Huh?! The fuckin' tank ain't broken, some little fuck opened the drain valve! Now I get to spend the rest of my aftahnoon dryin' this shithole out!"
For the first time, Mrs Rodriguez shut her sizable trap, clutching at imaginary pearls and patting her hairnet in a dramatic response to the building manager's unusually curt delivery.
"Now. If you don't mind, Mrs. Rodriguez... I've got muh work cut out for me. So could ya do me a favah and fuck off back to ya room and leave me the hell alone?!" This outburst of pent up disgust for the woman had been a long time gestating... model tenant or no. Dean snatched his tool box from its resting place and stormed back up the stairs, paying little mind to the creaking and snapping beneath his feet. Mrs. Rodriguez was sure to remove herself from his path this time.
Had the toolbox not been divided into two separate halves, the pipe wrench's impact would have killed Eva or Alex, if not both, from the sheer force with which Dean had thrown it. It landed in the base of the tray filled with random screws, bolts and nails, sending them airborne like shrapnel in the tiny duo's direction. Had Dean not been preoccupied with gifting his tenant the earful she'd earned, he certainly would have heard them scream. If not for a threadbare, oily blue rag Roper kept handy to wipe away grease providing cover, the raining metal hardware could also have been fatal.
When the box they took refuge in was finally lifted away, the swaying motion sent Alex and Eva sliding across the bottom of the tool caddy, along with the washers and fasteners haphazardly stored within. Most of deans tools were sitting upright in their respective slots, save for the most recently returned pipe wrench which threatened to crush the tiny duo at any given moment. Dean's secret passengers clung desperately to whatever they could as their grumpy captain ascended yet another flight of stairs.
Of course, Eva was having the time of her life.
If they weren't trying so hard to hide their presence, she'd have been hootin' and hollerin' like Slim Pickins riding the A-bomb at the end of Dr. Strangelove. Alex wrapped her entire body around the rubber handle of a claw hammer, too fraught with terror to even open her eyes. This was a far cry from the trip to New York in DeTorres's pet carrier. As humiliating as it felt to be packed around like a rodent in a cage, at least The Broker had the knowledge of their existence and handled their traveling prison with care. The metal tools around her clanged against one another and the thunderous roar of Dean's stomping feet echoed against the wooden floorboards far below. Alexandra wasn't confident they'd survive another flight of stairs.
Dean continued to grumble to himself, completely unaware of the drama unfolding at his fingertips. Rounding another corner to ascend to the second floor, there was little else on his mind than his contempt for Mrs. Rodriguez and her destructive little shithead grandchildren. She'd better hope the water damage isn't too severe, he thought to himself, or it'll be coming out of her fucking deposit.
The sensation of climbing and swaying, the dizziness of spinning as the building super rounded another flight, left Alex completely disoriented. The hammer's handle shifted and rocked along with every other tool that surrounded her. She still couldn't bear to open her eyes. Meanwhile, as far as Eva was concerned, she was riding the best rollercoaster on earth. A rush like this beat a day cooped up in the vault any day. This was the very reason why she loved being small, the most mundane of human activities could suddenly become an exhilarating adventure at the snap of your fingers.
Everything stopped all at once. Alex and Eva could hear the cursing giant fumbling with his keys inside a lock from somewhere over the edge of the tray. A refreshing breeze followed as it blew over the container with the opening of the door to Dean's apartment. Refreshing by the stale air of the basement or even the hallway's standards anyway. The Roper's apartment stank of moldy bread and beer, but the air conditioning blasting on high felt like a godsend. It was even enough to cool Dean's raging temper.
The frustrated building manager dropped the tool caddy next to the wall as soon as he entered the door. As if the carnival rider of hell hadn't been rough enough on her, the abrupt weightlessness that came with being dropped was more than Alex could take. She screamed, tightening her entire body's death grip on the hammer. The fall only lasted a second, but the impact was enough to shake she and Eva free from the gigantic tools. They landed hard, but the oily rag had once again saved them from serious injury.
Small as her voice was, Alexandra's involuntary scream had not gone unnoticed by the titan towering over them.
"What the fuck was that?!"
End Part 18
"I tell you! I tell you and you no listen!"
Dean Roper did his best to shove past Mrs. Rodriguez, the elderly Puerto Rican woman living in 1B. She'd always been a good tenant, paid her rent on time, kept her apartment neat. Otherwise he'd have told her where to go and how to get there. Just because she paid the bills didn't mean she had the most agreeable personality. Plus, Dean had little patience for his tenants when they decided to get pushy with him. He had little patience for anyone really. The obnoxious wail of the flood alarm blaring from the basement like an air raid siren, combined with the old hen clucking in his ear, had old Dean's nerves on edge. He hadn't even seen the disaster waiting for him bellow yet. The man was already this close to blowing his top.
"I tell you, boiler no good!" Mrs. Rodriguez continued to badger her negligent landlord.
"It's not a boiler, but yes," Dean agreed in the calmest tone he could muster, "yes you did. It was on my list."
This did little to stifle the old woman's irritation, "I no have hot water! I shower, no hot water!"
Dean made his way past Mrs. Rodriguez, still trying to ignore her, thinking seriously about grabbing her by the collar of her moomoo and tossing her down the steps. This didn't seem to make any difference to the old woman. She continued to berate him, even as he pushed through the door to the cellar. It took a some feeling around the wall to find the light switch, but when he did, the sight at the bottom of the stairs made his heart sink.
"Fuck my life."
"You see!" Mrs Rodriguez continued on her obnoxious loop. The basement was entirely flooded out. A rat carcass, still ensnared in a mouse trap, floated by and then disappeared beneath the stairs. "I tell you! I tell you! You no listen!"
"Just stay here, will ya!" Dean attempted to cut her off, but to no avail. Mrs. Rodriquez's tirade continued in perfect harmony with the screaming alarm below. "I'll go down and check it out."
With tool box in hand, Roper began his descent down the rickety stairs, another item on his honey-do list he intended to fix... some day. With no honey in his life to nag him about getting work done, things just had a way of piling up until they became a problem he could no longer ignore.
Each step buckled with age, even under his spindly legs. It wouldn't be too much longer before they completely rotted away. One careful placement of each foot, feeling his full weight shift before attempting the next rung, Dean eventually reached the bottom. He stepped into the water, which at the time was probably no more than ankle deep. Within seconds, his worn out boots filled with cold, squishing liquid. Shaking his head in disgust, Dean set his tool box down on one of the steps. He removed a rusty pipe wrench from the caddy before approaching the line of rusty water tanks, every one in need of replacement.
"This is our chance! Go!" Alexandra signaled.
She and Eva had been wading patiently in the rising waters, hidden behind the stairs. From the moment he set foot on the top step, the shrunken duo could almost feel the weight of the superintendent's heavy footfalls as he neared the basement floor. A relatively slim and frail looking man, the planks that made up the stairs were just that rotted. They could see the wood actually bending under the strain this giant exerted on their tired existence. When his boots splashed down in the newly formed reservoir, the wave he created carried with it enough energy to momentarily wash their tiny figures away from the steps into the swirling lagoon.
Suddenly, the two shrunken assassins found themselves competing for drier ground with the roaches and mice. Forced to use the grapple to pull themselves out of the very lake they'd created onto the relative safety of the bottom step. They remained extremely cautious, even once out of the rising water. There were two giants to contend with after all. The superintendent himself, and now this irate loudmouth filling out a faded blue moo moo and making an absolute scene at the top of the stairs.
"You fix! You fix now!"
The tool box sat on the third step up from the bottom, making a short, but doable climb necessary. The container was not so much a box as it was a caddy, or tray with a handle, open style without a lid. No chance of getting locked in, perfect for the purposes of a certain pair of shrunken assassins hiding in the shadows. Alex and Eva to care to position themselves, as they scurried up the line, so that the box obscured the obnoxious giantess's view of their infiltration. Adrenaline alone was enough to get them up the steps quickly.
"I'm not sure what's worse," Eva groaned, "the alarm... or that fat bitch's mouth!"
"Don't get distracted," Alex chastised, "we need to hurry. Look! He's already found the lid!"
Alex was right, the drain was the first place Dean inspected. He lifted the paint can topper out of the water with far greater ease than it took the two tiny women to place it there. He didn't even look at it, just tossed it aside. Back into the stack of cans from whence it came. Upon its removal, a massive whirlpool began to form. An awe inspiring sight for anyone as small as Alex or even Eva, despite the maelstrom only developing in a few inches of water.
"Come on, there's just one more step to go." Alex pulled herself up the thread first for a change. Her heart was pumping like a steam engine and sweat greased her palms. Had Brad and Danielle's lives not been on the line, she most certainly would have tried to get the attention of either one of the giants. For now, she'd have to play by the rules... but a plan to rid herself of this miserable existence once and for all had already begun to take shape, unbeknownst to her partner.
Once the women had reached the third step, they made sure to put themselves between the steel box and the wall to further avoid detection. Across the room, Roper had removed the flood detector from the water and set it down on top of the heater itself. If nothing else, at least THAT godawful noise finally ceased. Humans large and small no longer needed to shout over the squealing alarm to hear one another, but that didn't seem to lower the volume of Mrs. Rodriguez's voice one single octave.
Eva helped Alex over the dinged-up metal edge first and let the smaller woman drop inside. Using the shoddily welded corners as grip for her footing, the larger one toppled head over heels into the red container herself, and not a moment too soon. The squeaking turn of the water heater's valve signaled that their clever rouse had been discovered.
"Ha! I knew it!" Dean scoffed. "Those little shits of yours been fuckin' around down here again."
Mrs. Rodriguez remained unconvinced, "is bad! You fix! Need new one!"
Dean had had enough. He threw his pipe wrench down against the tool box, and threw it goddamn hard. The caddy and all the tools within shook like a truck running into a wall. "How many times I told you to keep yuhs fuckin' grandkids outta heeyah? Huh?! The fuckin' tank ain't broken, some little fuck opened the drain valve! Now I get to spend the rest of my aftahnoon dryin' this shithole out!"
For the first time, Mrs Rodriguez shut her sizable trap, clutching at imaginary pearls and patting her hairnet in a dramatic response to the building manager's unusually curt delivery.
"Now. If you don't mind, Mrs. Rodriguez... I've got muh work cut out for me. So could ya do me a favah and fuck off back to ya room and leave me the hell alone?!" This outburst of pent up disgust for the woman had been a long time gestating... model tenant or no. Dean snatched his tool box from its resting place and stormed back up the stairs, paying little mind to the creaking and snapping beneath his feet. Mrs. Rodriguez was sure to remove herself from his path this time.
Had the toolbox not been divided into two separate halves, the pipe wrench's impact would have killed Eva or Alex, if not both, from the sheer force with which Dean had thrown it. It landed in the base of the tray filled with random screws, bolts and nails, sending them airborne like shrapnel in the tiny duo's direction. Had Dean not been preoccupied with gifting his tenant the earful she'd earned, he certainly would have heard them scream. If not for a threadbare, oily blue rag Roper kept handy to wipe away grease providing cover, the raining metal hardware could also have been fatal.
When the box they took refuge in was finally lifted away, the swaying motion sent Alex and Eva sliding across the bottom of the tool caddy, along with the washers and fasteners haphazardly stored within. Most of deans tools were sitting upright in their respective slots, save for the most recently returned pipe wrench which threatened to crush the tiny duo at any given moment. Dean's secret passengers clung desperately to whatever they could as their grumpy captain ascended yet another flight of stairs.
Of course, Eva was having the time of her life.
If they weren't trying so hard to hide their presence, she'd have been hootin' and hollerin' like Slim Pickins riding the A-bomb at the end of Dr. Strangelove. Alex wrapped her entire body around the rubber handle of a claw hammer, too fraught with terror to even open her eyes. This was a far cry from the trip to New York in DeTorres's pet carrier. As humiliating as it felt to be packed around like a rodent in a cage, at least The Broker had the knowledge of their existence and handled their traveling prison with care. The metal tools around her clanged against one another and the thunderous roar of Dean's stomping feet echoed against the wooden floorboards far below. Alexandra wasn't confident they'd survive another flight of stairs.
Dean continued to grumble to himself, completely unaware of the drama unfolding at his fingertips. Rounding another corner to ascend to the second floor, there was little else on his mind than his contempt for Mrs. Rodriguez and her destructive little shithead grandchildren. She'd better hope the water damage isn't too severe, he thought to himself, or it'll be coming out of her fucking deposit.
The sensation of climbing and swaying, the dizziness of spinning as the building super rounded another flight, left Alex completely disoriented. The hammer's handle shifted and rocked along with every other tool that surrounded her. She still couldn't bear to open her eyes. Meanwhile, as far as Eva was concerned, she was riding the best rollercoaster on earth. A rush like this beat a day cooped up in the vault any day. This was the very reason why she loved being small, the most mundane of human activities could suddenly become an exhilarating adventure at the snap of your fingers.
Everything stopped all at once. Alex and Eva could hear the cursing giant fumbling with his keys inside a lock from somewhere over the edge of the tray. A refreshing breeze followed as it blew over the container with the opening of the door to Dean's apartment. Refreshing by the stale air of the basement or even the hallway's standards anyway. The Roper's apartment stank of moldy bread and beer, but the air conditioning blasting on high felt like a godsend. It was even enough to cool Dean's raging temper.
The frustrated building manager dropped the tool caddy next to the wall as soon as he entered the door. As if the carnival rider of hell hadn't been rough enough on her, the abrupt weightlessness that came with being dropped was more than Alex could take. She screamed, tightening her entire body's death grip on the hammer. The fall only lasted a second, but the impact was enough to shake she and Eva free from the gigantic tools. They landed hard, but the oily rag had once again saved them from serious injury.
Small as her voice was, Alexandra's involuntary scream had not gone unnoticed by the titan towering over them.
"What the fuck was that?!"
End Part 18
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-
Bloodthirstybutcher
- Shrink Master
- Posts: 834
- Joined: Tue Nov 10, 2020 10:36 pm
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 19-"Squaller"
"Who the fuck is that?! Show ya'selves! I'm warnin' ya! I gotta gun!" Dean Roper, building superintendent and all around sack of human shit, did not in fact have a gun. It was a bluff, but one that had worked for him before during a previous break-in.
Alex and Eva peeked over the rim of the tool caddy, both terrified that he would find them. While being discovered would warrant a stern talkin' to for Eva, Alex's stakes were made very clear to her. Her family's future depended on successfully killing Lucio Fulci and leaving no trace in the aftermath. After everything she and Eva had been through so far that morning, this scrawny, jack-o-lantern toothed loser who reeked of alcohol and cigarettes could potentially end it all. And all of that is without consideration for what this creep might do to them should he find them.
"I ain't fuckin' around heeyah!" Roper emphasized, "ya got five seconds before I start emptyin' my clip."
The tiny women cowering near his feet held their ground. He hadn't yet looked their way. Whomever it was this guy expected to find, it certainly wasn't a couple of barefoot Barbies sneaking around at floor level in his dirty, cluttered apartment.
To call the place disgusting would be putting it mildly. A field of shag carpet littered with cigarette butts and crushed beer cans stretched far and wide before the miniature intruders like an apocalyptic wasteland. A fibrous and matted Gettysburg laid out on seventies burnt orange. Soldiers of blue and grey met their end on this smoldering battlefield as well. Both sides, brother against brother, birthed under the same flag of the great nation of Anneheiser Busch. An important transition in the poorly preserved history of Dean Roper's apartment... when the man switched from Budweiser to Busch Light out of misplaced political reaction-ism.
Stacks of pizza box skyscrapers encircled the overflowing trash can, occupying every open space available on the kitchen counter as well. Grease stained mesas of cardboard in this desert of negligence. The roaches had grown so comfortable with Dean's presence that they no longer hid from him.
And then there was that smell. A pungent cocktail of mold, rot, cigarettes, and spilled booze soaking into every bristle of his dirty rust-colored carpet. They'd braved the stomach churning journey through the trash-laden corridor of the building's alleyway. Floated among dead rats and cockroaches in the building's musty cellar. After all that, Alex still dreaded having to walk across this room with nothing to cover her feet.
New York had become synonymous with gentrification and overpriced housing, but somehow this place was nothing if not a throwback to the New York of old. Grimy. Sleazy. Dangerous. Just the way he liked it, but even a slob like Dean Roper couldn't hold back the winds of change forever.
"Goddamnit, motherfucker! I said show ya'self!" The beanpole of a man hollered even louder.
His fingers searched for the handle of the nine iron he kept leaning against the hem of his sweat-stained easy chair. Dean was no golfer, he kept the club only as a weapon, and Alex and Eva had no intention of hanging around long enough to see the form of his backswing. The giant cautiously crept towards his bedroom and out of view, his Titelist raised above his head and ready to strike. The miniature invaders made their move.
Alex and Eva lowered themselves silentlyover the rim of the tool caddy and onto the crusty floor. A cloud of cigarette ash kicked up from the carpet fibers as they ran for the nearest cover, a precariously stacked pile of old newspapers and unopened mail next to the entryway. Dean raised quite the commotion in the other room, smacking at curtains and closet doors in his search. All the while, two tiny women hid wedged between the hoarded periodicals and the drip-stained wall.
Dean stomped back into the room, scratching his head. He leaned the golf club back in its place against the lazy boy and shuffled towards the kitchen. "I could have sworn I heard-," was about all he got out before he tripped over the head of the club and stumbled forward. The refrigerator broke his fall, but only did so with his face. Roper's face burnt beat red, pain stoking new fire to his already sour mood. His fall looked like nothing short of a building collapse to those lingering nearby.
In a fit, Dean turned and kicked the offending club as hard as he could, cursing its existence with every four letter word in the book. The club flew head over handle, smacking against the wall and knocking over a beer-a-myd of neatly stacked cans. All of them covered in as much dust and grime as everything else in the apartment. Dean's sole example of artistic expression... destroyed in a moment of heated frustration.
Roper rounded up every box fan available to him, muttering profanities to himself the entire time. At Mrs. Rodriguez downstairs. At god himself for this absolute fucking gift of a day he was having. Dean Roper had all but forgotten the voice he'd heard... or thought he heard anyway. He left the apartment, the handle of a box fan gripped in each hand and one pinned against his torso beneath each arm. As he slammed the apartment door behind him, one of the fans slipped out from his armpit. These weren't exactly fresh off the shelf from the big box store. The old, brittle plastic shattered against the hardwood floor upon impact. His reaction could be heard by everyone occupying the building.
"GAWD! FUCKING! DAMNIT!"
With the grumpy giant's constant stream of obscenities fading into the distance, Alex and Eva side-stepped their way out from behind the leaning tower of newsprint. As perfect an opportunity to catch their breath and calm their nerves as they would ever get. Alex from terror, and Eva from the adrenaline rush.
"Jesus, who shat in that guy's cereal this morning?" Eva joked.
Alex replied, "judging from the look of this place, I'd say he helps himself to a big, heaping bowlful every morning. Seriously... who lives like this?!"
"Hogs and packrats," Eva laughed, "this guy gives 'em both a run for their money!"
Some shared laughter at Roper's expense was deeply needed, if not fleeting. The communicators imbedded in their collars erupted once again with the sound of DeTorres's voice, "status update!"
"His timing is impeccable," Alex scoffed. "Sixty seconds earlier and..."
"Status update, Number One!" Emil repeated.
"You have any idea what floor we're on?" Eva whispered to Alex. Even though DeTorres could not hear them unless she pressed the "talk" button on the collar, Alex still shrugged without speaking.
Eva sighed, "fuck. Ok... here goes." Eva pressed the voice activator and responded, "Number One here, over."
"What's your progress, Number One?"
Alex whispered, "why does he keep checking up on us like this? Don't these fucking collars have a tracking device in them?" The smaller one tugged at the uncomfortable accessory in disgust.
"You are correct, Number Two...," DeTorres replied. Alex hadn't realized how sensitive the microphones were, making a mental note of it for the future... especially should she need to keep something from him. "To answer your question, the tracking collars are pinging perfectly, but the device only registers within a two dimensional plain. I cannot ascertain your elevation."
"The fifth," Eva lied, at least she thought she was lying for all she knew. Alex shot her a look, but the redhead just waved her off. "We're just making our way into the target's office now."
"Splendid," Emil exclaimed. "You've made up for lost time quite impressively. Inform me when the target arrives, over and out."
As soon as Eva turned off her microphone, Alex felt compelled to speak freely once again. "What're you doing?! Why did you lie to him like that?! What if he finds out?!"
"Pfffffft," Eva closed her eyes and brushed Alex's concerns off like she had everything under control. "We're fine. It's all fine. He's just like any other manager... tell him what he wants to hear so you can get back to doing your job in peace. Trust me, Alex, I know how to handle Mistah D."
Alexandra couldn't believe how nonchalant Eva was being about the whole thing. "Alright, Eva... I trust your instincts ... just remember its my family who'll have to pay if you're wrong."
Eva thought about telling Alex something snarky just then, but decided it best to hold her tongue. She still needed her cooperation on this thing after all.
"So how do we get outta here?" Alex inquired. She took a seat in the crook of a smashed beer can. A notch large enough for her to fit her ass comfortably, but left there by the crushing power of a massive thumb. As with so many of the fallen soldiers lying used up on the field of shag, when the aluminum can had served its purpose, the commanding officer of the alcoholic army had wadded it up and threw it aside. The trash bin certainly wouldn't hold any more.
Eva opened her pack and shuffled a few things around until she found what she was searching for. "With this!" She removed a strange looking tool, a thick rod bent four times with what looked like a Phillips head on one end. She scanned the expanse of aluminum carnage until she found their way out of Dean Roper's House of Hoarders.
There, at the base of the wall, was an air vent. Eva ran towards the rectangular shaped grate and Alex followed in tow. The crafty redhead wasted little time once they'd arrived. She'd lied to DeTorres after all, something he wouldn't take well in the slightest should he learn the truth, despite what she'd told Alex a not to worry her further. She jammed the pointed, cross-patterned bit into the baseball-sized screw head holding the left side of the vent cover in place. A slight chill could be felt coming from within. This was curious considering the building had no central air, as evidenced by the broken window-mounted air conditioning unit across the room. Either this refreshingly cool breeze was making its way up from the basement, or far more likely, Dean had figured out how to steal A/C from his surrounding neighbors.
Alex quickly realized the strange looking tool Eva possessed was indeed a screwdriver. Cut down and molded in a vice so that tiny hands could easily crank it like a primitive hand drill. Another commissioned tool from DeTorres's star pupil.
Eva struggled to make the turn at first. The ancient paint job on the walls had also covered the outside of the cover, essentially gluing the screw in place for decades. "This would go a lot easier if you held this end," she hinted to her gawking partner.
Alex snapped back into focus, "right... sorry."
The smaller woman took hold of the handle, using her shoulder to brace the end of the primitive screwdriver and secure it in place while Eva used both hands to crank the middle. This time the paint gave and the screw broke free, turning counter-clockwise with much more ease than before.
"I told you we make a good team," Eva panted, cranking the bit as hard and as fast as she could, as though she were raising an incredibly heavy bucket from a well. Alex didn't respond. She felt herself blush, despite not fully wanting to be a part of this team in the first place.
Before long, the screw fell and nestled cosily into the long fibers of the carpet. Eva wedged her knife between the wall and the grate, carving the paint away so she could pry it open wide enough for Alex to slip through. "After you, Mrs. Clark."
Alex scoffed back, "please don't call me that."
Seeing how Eva was struggling to keep the vent cover open, Alexandra put aside her usual apprehension and entered first. She squeezed past her larger partner and the wall and, entering the cold, metallic cavern. Climbing inside a building's ventilation system was as nerve racking an experience as any other she'd had that day, but at least the stench of Dean's apartment didn't linger inside.
Alex mumbled something to herself before Eva joined her in the dark corridor, "alright, Frodo... when in doubt... always follow your nose."
End Part 19
"Who the fuck is that?! Show ya'selves! I'm warnin' ya! I gotta gun!" Dean Roper, building superintendent and all around sack of human shit, did not in fact have a gun. It was a bluff, but one that had worked for him before during a previous break-in.
Alex and Eva peeked over the rim of the tool caddy, both terrified that he would find them. While being discovered would warrant a stern talkin' to for Eva, Alex's stakes were made very clear to her. Her family's future depended on successfully killing Lucio Fulci and leaving no trace in the aftermath. After everything she and Eva had been through so far that morning, this scrawny, jack-o-lantern toothed loser who reeked of alcohol and cigarettes could potentially end it all. And all of that is without consideration for what this creep might do to them should he find them.
"I ain't fuckin' around heeyah!" Roper emphasized, "ya got five seconds before I start emptyin' my clip."
The tiny women cowering near his feet held their ground. He hadn't yet looked their way. Whomever it was this guy expected to find, it certainly wasn't a couple of barefoot Barbies sneaking around at floor level in his dirty, cluttered apartment.
To call the place disgusting would be putting it mildly. A field of shag carpet littered with cigarette butts and crushed beer cans stretched far and wide before the miniature intruders like an apocalyptic wasteland. A fibrous and matted Gettysburg laid out on seventies burnt orange. Soldiers of blue and grey met their end on this smoldering battlefield as well. Both sides, brother against brother, birthed under the same flag of the great nation of Anneheiser Busch. An important transition in the poorly preserved history of Dean Roper's apartment... when the man switched from Budweiser to Busch Light out of misplaced political reaction-ism.
Stacks of pizza box skyscrapers encircled the overflowing trash can, occupying every open space available on the kitchen counter as well. Grease stained mesas of cardboard in this desert of negligence. The roaches had grown so comfortable with Dean's presence that they no longer hid from him.
And then there was that smell. A pungent cocktail of mold, rot, cigarettes, and spilled booze soaking into every bristle of his dirty rust-colored carpet. They'd braved the stomach churning journey through the trash-laden corridor of the building's alleyway. Floated among dead rats and cockroaches in the building's musty cellar. After all that, Alex still dreaded having to walk across this room with nothing to cover her feet.
New York had become synonymous with gentrification and overpriced housing, but somehow this place was nothing if not a throwback to the New York of old. Grimy. Sleazy. Dangerous. Just the way he liked it, but even a slob like Dean Roper couldn't hold back the winds of change forever.
"Goddamnit, motherfucker! I said show ya'self!" The beanpole of a man hollered even louder.
His fingers searched for the handle of the nine iron he kept leaning against the hem of his sweat-stained easy chair. Dean was no golfer, he kept the club only as a weapon, and Alex and Eva had no intention of hanging around long enough to see the form of his backswing. The giant cautiously crept towards his bedroom and out of view, his Titelist raised above his head and ready to strike. The miniature invaders made their move.
Alex and Eva lowered themselves silentlyover the rim of the tool caddy and onto the crusty floor. A cloud of cigarette ash kicked up from the carpet fibers as they ran for the nearest cover, a precariously stacked pile of old newspapers and unopened mail next to the entryway. Dean raised quite the commotion in the other room, smacking at curtains and closet doors in his search. All the while, two tiny women hid wedged between the hoarded periodicals and the drip-stained wall.
Dean stomped back into the room, scratching his head. He leaned the golf club back in its place against the lazy boy and shuffled towards the kitchen. "I could have sworn I heard-," was about all he got out before he tripped over the head of the club and stumbled forward. The refrigerator broke his fall, but only did so with his face. Roper's face burnt beat red, pain stoking new fire to his already sour mood. His fall looked like nothing short of a building collapse to those lingering nearby.
In a fit, Dean turned and kicked the offending club as hard as he could, cursing its existence with every four letter word in the book. The club flew head over handle, smacking against the wall and knocking over a beer-a-myd of neatly stacked cans. All of them covered in as much dust and grime as everything else in the apartment. Dean's sole example of artistic expression... destroyed in a moment of heated frustration.
Roper rounded up every box fan available to him, muttering profanities to himself the entire time. At Mrs. Rodriguez downstairs. At god himself for this absolute fucking gift of a day he was having. Dean Roper had all but forgotten the voice he'd heard... or thought he heard anyway. He left the apartment, the handle of a box fan gripped in each hand and one pinned against his torso beneath each arm. As he slammed the apartment door behind him, one of the fans slipped out from his armpit. These weren't exactly fresh off the shelf from the big box store. The old, brittle plastic shattered against the hardwood floor upon impact. His reaction could be heard by everyone occupying the building.
"GAWD! FUCKING! DAMNIT!"
With the grumpy giant's constant stream of obscenities fading into the distance, Alex and Eva side-stepped their way out from behind the leaning tower of newsprint. As perfect an opportunity to catch their breath and calm their nerves as they would ever get. Alex from terror, and Eva from the adrenaline rush.
"Jesus, who shat in that guy's cereal this morning?" Eva joked.
Alex replied, "judging from the look of this place, I'd say he helps himself to a big, heaping bowlful every morning. Seriously... who lives like this?!"
"Hogs and packrats," Eva laughed, "this guy gives 'em both a run for their money!"
Some shared laughter at Roper's expense was deeply needed, if not fleeting. The communicators imbedded in their collars erupted once again with the sound of DeTorres's voice, "status update!"
"His timing is impeccable," Alex scoffed. "Sixty seconds earlier and..."
"Status update, Number One!" Emil repeated.
"You have any idea what floor we're on?" Eva whispered to Alex. Even though DeTorres could not hear them unless she pressed the "talk" button on the collar, Alex still shrugged without speaking.
Eva sighed, "fuck. Ok... here goes." Eva pressed the voice activator and responded, "Number One here, over."
"What's your progress, Number One?"
Alex whispered, "why does he keep checking up on us like this? Don't these fucking collars have a tracking device in them?" The smaller one tugged at the uncomfortable accessory in disgust.
"You are correct, Number Two...," DeTorres replied. Alex hadn't realized how sensitive the microphones were, making a mental note of it for the future... especially should she need to keep something from him. "To answer your question, the tracking collars are pinging perfectly, but the device only registers within a two dimensional plain. I cannot ascertain your elevation."
"The fifth," Eva lied, at least she thought she was lying for all she knew. Alex shot her a look, but the redhead just waved her off. "We're just making our way into the target's office now."
"Splendid," Emil exclaimed. "You've made up for lost time quite impressively. Inform me when the target arrives, over and out."
As soon as Eva turned off her microphone, Alex felt compelled to speak freely once again. "What're you doing?! Why did you lie to him like that?! What if he finds out?!"
"Pfffffft," Eva closed her eyes and brushed Alex's concerns off like she had everything under control. "We're fine. It's all fine. He's just like any other manager... tell him what he wants to hear so you can get back to doing your job in peace. Trust me, Alex, I know how to handle Mistah D."
Alexandra couldn't believe how nonchalant Eva was being about the whole thing. "Alright, Eva... I trust your instincts ... just remember its my family who'll have to pay if you're wrong."
Eva thought about telling Alex something snarky just then, but decided it best to hold her tongue. She still needed her cooperation on this thing after all.
"So how do we get outta here?" Alex inquired. She took a seat in the crook of a smashed beer can. A notch large enough for her to fit her ass comfortably, but left there by the crushing power of a massive thumb. As with so many of the fallen soldiers lying used up on the field of shag, when the aluminum can had served its purpose, the commanding officer of the alcoholic army had wadded it up and threw it aside. The trash bin certainly wouldn't hold any more.
Eva opened her pack and shuffled a few things around until she found what she was searching for. "With this!" She removed a strange looking tool, a thick rod bent four times with what looked like a Phillips head on one end. She scanned the expanse of aluminum carnage until she found their way out of Dean Roper's House of Hoarders.
There, at the base of the wall, was an air vent. Eva ran towards the rectangular shaped grate and Alex followed in tow. The crafty redhead wasted little time once they'd arrived. She'd lied to DeTorres after all, something he wouldn't take well in the slightest should he learn the truth, despite what she'd told Alex a not to worry her further. She jammed the pointed, cross-patterned bit into the baseball-sized screw head holding the left side of the vent cover in place. A slight chill could be felt coming from within. This was curious considering the building had no central air, as evidenced by the broken window-mounted air conditioning unit across the room. Either this refreshingly cool breeze was making its way up from the basement, or far more likely, Dean had figured out how to steal A/C from his surrounding neighbors.
Alex quickly realized the strange looking tool Eva possessed was indeed a screwdriver. Cut down and molded in a vice so that tiny hands could easily crank it like a primitive hand drill. Another commissioned tool from DeTorres's star pupil.
Eva struggled to make the turn at first. The ancient paint job on the walls had also covered the outside of the cover, essentially gluing the screw in place for decades. "This would go a lot easier if you held this end," she hinted to her gawking partner.
Alex snapped back into focus, "right... sorry."
The smaller woman took hold of the handle, using her shoulder to brace the end of the primitive screwdriver and secure it in place while Eva used both hands to crank the middle. This time the paint gave and the screw broke free, turning counter-clockwise with much more ease than before.
"I told you we make a good team," Eva panted, cranking the bit as hard and as fast as she could, as though she were raising an incredibly heavy bucket from a well. Alex didn't respond. She felt herself blush, despite not fully wanting to be a part of this team in the first place.
Before long, the screw fell and nestled cosily into the long fibers of the carpet. Eva wedged her knife between the wall and the grate, carving the paint away so she could pry it open wide enough for Alex to slip through. "After you, Mrs. Clark."
Alex scoffed back, "please don't call me that."
Seeing how Eva was struggling to keep the vent cover open, Alexandra put aside her usual apprehension and entered first. She squeezed past her larger partner and the wall and, entering the cold, metallic cavern. Climbing inside a building's ventilation system was as nerve racking an experience as any other she'd had that day, but at least the stench of Dean's apartment didn't linger inside.
Alex mumbled something to herself before Eva joined her in the dark corridor, "alright, Frodo... when in doubt... always follow your nose."
End Part 19
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 20-"Don't Look Down"
The further Alexandra and Eva ventured into the labyrinthian passages of the ventilation system, the darker it got. The walls seemed to close in in the oppressiveness of the black. Eva instructed her partner to pay close attention to where she placed her feet and to guide herself using the walls. The system was likely linked to the furnace far below in the basement, meaning deep, deadly pitfalls could pop up at any moment.
Alex did as instructed, cautiously and methodically placing her steps with precision. They only had three matches each between the two of them, so Eva felt it best to save them until absolutely necessary. Not that a single match would provide much light for very long anyway. Alex took her partner's hand to prevent getting separated, then apprehensively took the lead. After everything Eva had done for her that morning, she felt obligated to show her companion that she could handle this.
No amount of preparation could have prevented what happened next. Her searching toes felt the metallic floor disappear beneath them. The sudden shift in her weight and the disorienting dark sent Alex falling into an unseeable chasm. Eva heard her partner's sharp scream just milliseconds before Alex's momentum pulled her over as well. In an instant, the tiny women were dangling over the ledge of a vertical shaft, and only by the skin of the larger's trembling fingers. Eva had just barely caught the edge in time, but was quickly losing their grip.
Alex continued to scream, the sound of which amplified in the close quarters and lengthy metal walls. Eva clung precariously from a single hand, while clutching Alex's with the other, mustering every ounce of strength she still had to do so. The metal was so slick, and her own perspiration was only making it worse. Her pinky finger gave, leaving just three digits left to support herself, let alone the weight of another entire person. Eva could feel her ring finger about to give way.
"Eva! Eva! Don't let go!" Alex begged. Her feet struggled to find footing against the smooth wall of the shaft. She clawed for more grip with her own free hand, whether it was Eva's skin or the shaft wall. Like a drowning swimmer, her panic was threatening to drag them both to their deaths.
Despite her partner's pleas, Eva had to think seriously about letting her go in order to save herself. She too had begun to scream. The pain in her straining tendons felt more intense with each passing second. Her muscles tested like never before. "Please! Alex! Hold still!"
Alexandra was too terrified to hear Eva's protests over her own screams of terror. She pulled at the redhead's catsuit, ripping it at the seams. It was only then, when both women were about to plummet to their deaths, that lady luck decided to smile on them. A sharp, stabbing pain cut across Eva's arm as she grazed Eva's backpack. A barb.
The grappling hook! Eva hadn't stuffed it back into her pack, but let it dangle out of the bag! Clarity returned to Alex's mind. Her fear had a hold, but it wasn't going to be stronger than her will this time. "Hold on, Eva!"
"You hold on, goddamnit!" Eva barked back. Her ring finger was ready to lose its grip on the edge. She wasn't sure she could hold both of their weights with just two fingers. Could she do it? Loosen her grip on Alexandra's hand? Let fall to her death? Could she live with herself if she did?
With as much speed as she could muster, Alex extracted the grapple from Eva's pack, feeling the spool below unfurl as she gathered slack. She tossed the welded fish hooks over her head, only to have it bounce off the wall and slide back down the side of the shaft.
The tiny brunette was undeterred.
She couldn't die. Brad and Danielle need her, whether they knew it or not. With another lassoing swing, the determined mother tossed the grapple, this time catching the head of a screw near the edge. A couple of hard tugs to make sure her lifeline was secure, followed by a deep, trusting breath, and Alex let go of Eva's arm.
"Alex! Nooooooo!" Eva didn't know what was happening, too focused on her weakening hand. She couldn't hear the grappling hook scrape against the metal over the echoing screams. Alex had fallen, and she had let it happen. With her left arm finally free, she swung it up to catch the ledge before her grip could betray her. She pictured her partner falling through the darkness. Someone she now considered a friend. Her only friend. Tumbling down the shaft. Meeting her end somewhere below. Maybe against the concrete foundation. Perhaps inside the old furnace. Abandoned and to be forgotten by all but her.
It was enough to make anyone tear up. Eva pressed her forehead against the wall and began to cry. That was when she felt tiny, childlike hands wrap around her wrists.
"I got you," said Alex, "just hold on."
Eva was startled for sure, "Alex? ALEX?!"
With all her might, the four inch woman pulled on the larger's wrists. Using her entire body for leverage, she leaned backwards, grunting under the strain. Inch by inch, she helped ease Eva's climb over the ledge, allowing the redhead to walk herself up the side of the shaft. A few seconds later, Eva collapsed on top the diminutive Mrs. Clark as her muscles wilted in exhaustion. Her body never felt heavier as she rolled herself off to the side. The relived duo fell onto their backs, spread out with their feet dangling over the emptiness of the shaft, each trying to catch their breath.
"I'm sorry... Eva," Alex panted. "I'm so... sorry." In the darkness, Alex could hear sniffling... and then outright sobbing. "Eva? Oh my god! Eva! Are you ok?!"
"I thought," Eva began, her words catching in her throat several times before she could finish, "I thought... you fell. I thought I'd killed you."
"You?" Alex exclaimed with surprise, "I'm the one who nearly pulled us both over!"
Eva continued to cry, covering her eyes with her hands, even though there was no way for Alex could see her in the dark to feel embarrassed by it. The little brunette took one of Eva's big hands in hers and tried to assure her that she was alright.
"No... I'm in charge of this mission," Eva whimpered, "I should have been in the lead."
Alex hugged her sobbing friend, just as she had back in the alleyway, "maybe we both kinda suck at this, huh?"
This time, it was Alex who managed to coax a chuckle from the weeping Eva. "Sure... I'll buy that. Thank you for saving us just the same."
"How many times have you saved my ass today?" Alex laughed. "You can just scratch that one off my ledger."
Eva laughed again, "you got it." She wiped the tears away and allowed herself to relax for a moment, but also contemplating their next move.
Alex pulled a match from her pack and struck it against the side of the duct with both hands. The end flashed to life, blinding her for a moment with the bright intensity of its flash before settling down to a gentle flame. "Maybe we should actually use these things now, huh?"
Eva stood up and looked over the now illuminated passage, then down into the black, rectangular crevasse impeding their progress, "sure, but they're only good for a few seconds of light before they burn up."
She was right. In just the time it had taken her to say the words, the flame had already burned half way down the matchstick. Alex was forced to drop it as the unbearable heat closed in on her tiny, delicate hands. The drop against the floor of the vent was enough to extinguish the flame and send the two of them right back into the void. The smell of sulfur lingered in the air.
"Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to waste that," Alex winced.
Eva joined Alex where she'd last seen her before the lights went out, tripping over the match stick in the process. She caught herself against the wall of the vent without falling, "no... its fine. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but... we're gonna have to go back."
"What?!" Alex asked in astonishment.
"Yeah," Eva confirmed. "The light was just enough to show me what we're dealing with. This has to be the main shaft leading down the building's interior to the basement. It's a big one. Real big. We're not just gonna Lara Croft our way across this fucker."
"Sooo... we need to find something back in that slob's apartment to help us get cross it then," Alex realized.
Eva grinned, even though Alex couldn't see it, "yer catchin' on, pipsqueak."
The return trip to Roper's filth pit didn't seem quite as long as the trek to the edge of the shaft. Before pushing their way back through the grate, the little assassins had to be sure the man that called the trash heap home was still away. They scurried across the carpet as quickly as the shin-high shag would allow, only stopping when they'd found cover beneath Dean's sofa. Roaches poured out from the shadows in every direction, startled from their disgusting nests below and inside the couch. As a piece of furniture for sitting, the sofa was all but useless. Over the years it had become more of a repository for random machine parts and empty take out boxes. Judging from the crusty cum stains dripping down its sides, that was probably for the best.
"Keep your eyes on the door," Eva instructed her attentive apprentice, "I'll look for something we can use to cross the vent."
Alexandra nodded. She positioned herself in such a way that the sofa's leg would conceal her should the superintendent return before Eva. Her fingers hovered above the button to their communicator, unconcerned with whether or not DeTorres would overhear should she need to message her partner. Finding herself alone in Roper's wallow was not the most comforting feeling in the world.
Eva needn't have searched very far. Leaning against the wall, behind the sofa, were several short pieces of PVC pipe. Dean kept them on hand just in case he needed to play plumber for one of the tenants... but mostly because he's a hoarder, incapable of throwing anything away.
"Jesus," Eva muttered to the non-present building manager, "whoever you are, mister, you got some serious issues. I do appreciate this though, so much obliged!"
Since she herself had shrunk, Eva Hutch had plenty of time to adjust her ability to judge distance and size in terms of the larger people's world. A foot was still a foot, even if it was more like several yards from her perspective. It was she who was small after all, not everything else that had grown larger. This way she could be sure there was no confusion between DeTorres and herself when explaining her location. That all being said, the transition hadn't been easy. Like trying to attune ones mind to kilometers when they're used to thinking in miles. From her best estimates, the shortest of the white tubes was perhaps a foot... a foot and a half or so long. From her brief glance at the chasm in the light of a dying match, she hoped it would be enough.
After dragging a few crumpled fast food bags the man had unceremoniously tossed over the couch from out of her way, Eva placed herself between the wall and the pipe and shoved with all her might. The short pipe teetered on its end for a brief moment before an extra push sent it toppling over.
And thus, a chain reaction was set in motion.
Eva's minute efforts proved enough to send the rest of the piping propped against the wall sliding down to crash against the floor. She ducked back beneath the sofa with the dried crumbs and cough drop wrappers just in time to avoid getting crushed.
The sound of the hollow PVC banging into each other had sounded damn near apocalyptic to Alex's miniature ears. Seeing the disaster for itself, she couldn't help but worry for her partner's safety. She called out to Eva, leaving the safety of her hiding place and darting from pipe to pipe trying to find her. "Eva! Eva, where are you?!"
"S'all good," the resilient redhead announced. She crawled out from under the couch and dusted the actual bunny-sized dust bunnies from her person. "Just about met my maker for like the tenth time today is all."
Eva directed Alex towards the cut of pipe. It would wind up taking both of them to roll it across the floor to the vent. The shag was just that thick and crusty. There, Eva used her hand drill/screwdriver to remove the remaining screw holding the grate in place. Alex would then help wiggle it from one end while Eva worked it from the other until at last the grate fell to the floor. The dust and cigarette ash kicked up by its impact left both women coughing and sneezing.
The tube just barely fit inside the vent, but through some collective trial and error, the tiny women maneuvered it inside. Lifting the heavy grate back into place was the hardest part. But, where one person may have struggled, two managed the task just fine. It was Eva and Alex's turn to climb back inside the vent, and the pulled the cover flush behind them. Now there were two screws lying on Dean Roper's floor, but from the state of his living conditions, the only way he'd ever notice was if he happened to step on one.
Shoving the pipe down the vent from behind, the shrunken duo inched it towards the vertical shaft. The light to their rear faded with more and more with distance. The pitch darkness surrounding them signaled that they were near. Having kept track of her steps from when their return to Roper's apartment, Eva waited to strike another match until she felt they were close. When she did, she found the gaping mouth of the square pit before her. It looked so eager to swallow their improvised bridge, like one of those sand worms straight out of a Frank Herbert novel.
"Alright alright alright," Eva sighed, "and awaaaaaay we go."
"Um, Eva," Alex interrupted, "how do we keep it from falling in when we push it across."
Eva had been contemplating the same thing since she first set eyes on the piping.
"Basically... you're going have to push it."
Alex seemed surprised, "what's that now?"
"I mean," Eva clarified, "that I don't think you weigh enough to hold the end of the pipe down. Not before the other end gets too heavy... but I might."
"Eva! You can't-"
"Don't think about it. Just push. It'll be fine. I'll be fine." The more experienced in the ways of shrunken problem solving tried to assure her.
Alexandra knew she had to beat down her anxieties and do as Eva asked, but goddamn this was a big ask. She could hear her larger friend step into the mouth of the tube. It rolled from side to side as Eva tried to distribute her weight to balance it. Once it finally stopped rocking, she asked, "are you ready?"
"No," Alex replied, "but when was the last time I got what I wanted?"
Eva chuckled, "I hear ya, pardner." The mouth of the pipe was fairly cramped for someone her size, so she had to crouch down as she backed into what could very quickly become her coffin.
Alex braced her hands against the rim of the smooth tube and took several deep breaths. This would not be easy. She was so much smaller and weaker than Eva, who really should have been the one on the outside, not her. Eva believed she could do this, and without hesitation. For the moment, that would have to be enough.
Like an engine revving up at the starting line, Alex's breath quickened. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Then... she pushed...
End Part 20
The further Alexandra and Eva ventured into the labyrinthian passages of the ventilation system, the darker it got. The walls seemed to close in in the oppressiveness of the black. Eva instructed her partner to pay close attention to where she placed her feet and to guide herself using the walls. The system was likely linked to the furnace far below in the basement, meaning deep, deadly pitfalls could pop up at any moment.
Alex did as instructed, cautiously and methodically placing her steps with precision. They only had three matches each between the two of them, so Eva felt it best to save them until absolutely necessary. Not that a single match would provide much light for very long anyway. Alex took her partner's hand to prevent getting separated, then apprehensively took the lead. After everything Eva had done for her that morning, she felt obligated to show her companion that she could handle this.
No amount of preparation could have prevented what happened next. Her searching toes felt the metallic floor disappear beneath them. The sudden shift in her weight and the disorienting dark sent Alex falling into an unseeable chasm. Eva heard her partner's sharp scream just milliseconds before Alex's momentum pulled her over as well. In an instant, the tiny women were dangling over the ledge of a vertical shaft, and only by the skin of the larger's trembling fingers. Eva had just barely caught the edge in time, but was quickly losing their grip.
Alex continued to scream, the sound of which amplified in the close quarters and lengthy metal walls. Eva clung precariously from a single hand, while clutching Alex's with the other, mustering every ounce of strength she still had to do so. The metal was so slick, and her own perspiration was only making it worse. Her pinky finger gave, leaving just three digits left to support herself, let alone the weight of another entire person. Eva could feel her ring finger about to give way.
"Eva! Eva! Don't let go!" Alex begged. Her feet struggled to find footing against the smooth wall of the shaft. She clawed for more grip with her own free hand, whether it was Eva's skin or the shaft wall. Like a drowning swimmer, her panic was threatening to drag them both to their deaths.
Despite her partner's pleas, Eva had to think seriously about letting her go in order to save herself. She too had begun to scream. The pain in her straining tendons felt more intense with each passing second. Her muscles tested like never before. "Please! Alex! Hold still!"
Alexandra was too terrified to hear Eva's protests over her own screams of terror. She pulled at the redhead's catsuit, ripping it at the seams. It was only then, when both women were about to plummet to their deaths, that lady luck decided to smile on them. A sharp, stabbing pain cut across Eva's arm as she grazed Eva's backpack. A barb.
The grappling hook! Eva hadn't stuffed it back into her pack, but let it dangle out of the bag! Clarity returned to Alex's mind. Her fear had a hold, but it wasn't going to be stronger than her will this time. "Hold on, Eva!"
"You hold on, goddamnit!" Eva barked back. Her ring finger was ready to lose its grip on the edge. She wasn't sure she could hold both of their weights with just two fingers. Could she do it? Loosen her grip on Alexandra's hand? Let fall to her death? Could she live with herself if she did?
With as much speed as she could muster, Alex extracted the grapple from Eva's pack, feeling the spool below unfurl as she gathered slack. She tossed the welded fish hooks over her head, only to have it bounce off the wall and slide back down the side of the shaft.
The tiny brunette was undeterred.
She couldn't die. Brad and Danielle need her, whether they knew it or not. With another lassoing swing, the determined mother tossed the grapple, this time catching the head of a screw near the edge. A couple of hard tugs to make sure her lifeline was secure, followed by a deep, trusting breath, and Alex let go of Eva's arm.
"Alex! Nooooooo!" Eva didn't know what was happening, too focused on her weakening hand. She couldn't hear the grappling hook scrape against the metal over the echoing screams. Alex had fallen, and she had let it happen. With her left arm finally free, she swung it up to catch the ledge before her grip could betray her. She pictured her partner falling through the darkness. Someone she now considered a friend. Her only friend. Tumbling down the shaft. Meeting her end somewhere below. Maybe against the concrete foundation. Perhaps inside the old furnace. Abandoned and to be forgotten by all but her.
It was enough to make anyone tear up. Eva pressed her forehead against the wall and began to cry. That was when she felt tiny, childlike hands wrap around her wrists.
"I got you," said Alex, "just hold on."
Eva was startled for sure, "Alex? ALEX?!"
With all her might, the four inch woman pulled on the larger's wrists. Using her entire body for leverage, she leaned backwards, grunting under the strain. Inch by inch, she helped ease Eva's climb over the ledge, allowing the redhead to walk herself up the side of the shaft. A few seconds later, Eva collapsed on top the diminutive Mrs. Clark as her muscles wilted in exhaustion. Her body never felt heavier as she rolled herself off to the side. The relived duo fell onto their backs, spread out with their feet dangling over the emptiness of the shaft, each trying to catch their breath.
"I'm sorry... Eva," Alex panted. "I'm so... sorry." In the darkness, Alex could hear sniffling... and then outright sobbing. "Eva? Oh my god! Eva! Are you ok?!"
"I thought," Eva began, her words catching in her throat several times before she could finish, "I thought... you fell. I thought I'd killed you."
"You?" Alex exclaimed with surprise, "I'm the one who nearly pulled us both over!"
Eva continued to cry, covering her eyes with her hands, even though there was no way for Alex could see her in the dark to feel embarrassed by it. The little brunette took one of Eva's big hands in hers and tried to assure her that she was alright.
"No... I'm in charge of this mission," Eva whimpered, "I should have been in the lead."
Alex hugged her sobbing friend, just as she had back in the alleyway, "maybe we both kinda suck at this, huh?"
This time, it was Alex who managed to coax a chuckle from the weeping Eva. "Sure... I'll buy that. Thank you for saving us just the same."
"How many times have you saved my ass today?" Alex laughed. "You can just scratch that one off my ledger."
Eva laughed again, "you got it." She wiped the tears away and allowed herself to relax for a moment, but also contemplating their next move.
Alex pulled a match from her pack and struck it against the side of the duct with both hands. The end flashed to life, blinding her for a moment with the bright intensity of its flash before settling down to a gentle flame. "Maybe we should actually use these things now, huh?"
Eva stood up and looked over the now illuminated passage, then down into the black, rectangular crevasse impeding their progress, "sure, but they're only good for a few seconds of light before they burn up."
She was right. In just the time it had taken her to say the words, the flame had already burned half way down the matchstick. Alex was forced to drop it as the unbearable heat closed in on her tiny, delicate hands. The drop against the floor of the vent was enough to extinguish the flame and send the two of them right back into the void. The smell of sulfur lingered in the air.
"Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to waste that," Alex winced.
Eva joined Alex where she'd last seen her before the lights went out, tripping over the match stick in the process. She caught herself against the wall of the vent without falling, "no... its fine. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but... we're gonna have to go back."
"What?!" Alex asked in astonishment.
"Yeah," Eva confirmed. "The light was just enough to show me what we're dealing with. This has to be the main shaft leading down the building's interior to the basement. It's a big one. Real big. We're not just gonna Lara Croft our way across this fucker."
"Sooo... we need to find something back in that slob's apartment to help us get cross it then," Alex realized.
Eva grinned, even though Alex couldn't see it, "yer catchin' on, pipsqueak."
The return trip to Roper's filth pit didn't seem quite as long as the trek to the edge of the shaft. Before pushing their way back through the grate, the little assassins had to be sure the man that called the trash heap home was still away. They scurried across the carpet as quickly as the shin-high shag would allow, only stopping when they'd found cover beneath Dean's sofa. Roaches poured out from the shadows in every direction, startled from their disgusting nests below and inside the couch. As a piece of furniture for sitting, the sofa was all but useless. Over the years it had become more of a repository for random machine parts and empty take out boxes. Judging from the crusty cum stains dripping down its sides, that was probably for the best.
"Keep your eyes on the door," Eva instructed her attentive apprentice, "I'll look for something we can use to cross the vent."
Alexandra nodded. She positioned herself in such a way that the sofa's leg would conceal her should the superintendent return before Eva. Her fingers hovered above the button to their communicator, unconcerned with whether or not DeTorres would overhear should she need to message her partner. Finding herself alone in Roper's wallow was not the most comforting feeling in the world.
Eva needn't have searched very far. Leaning against the wall, behind the sofa, were several short pieces of PVC pipe. Dean kept them on hand just in case he needed to play plumber for one of the tenants... but mostly because he's a hoarder, incapable of throwing anything away.
"Jesus," Eva muttered to the non-present building manager, "whoever you are, mister, you got some serious issues. I do appreciate this though, so much obliged!"
Since she herself had shrunk, Eva Hutch had plenty of time to adjust her ability to judge distance and size in terms of the larger people's world. A foot was still a foot, even if it was more like several yards from her perspective. It was she who was small after all, not everything else that had grown larger. This way she could be sure there was no confusion between DeTorres and herself when explaining her location. That all being said, the transition hadn't been easy. Like trying to attune ones mind to kilometers when they're used to thinking in miles. From her best estimates, the shortest of the white tubes was perhaps a foot... a foot and a half or so long. From her brief glance at the chasm in the light of a dying match, she hoped it would be enough.
After dragging a few crumpled fast food bags the man had unceremoniously tossed over the couch from out of her way, Eva placed herself between the wall and the pipe and shoved with all her might. The short pipe teetered on its end for a brief moment before an extra push sent it toppling over.
And thus, a chain reaction was set in motion.
Eva's minute efforts proved enough to send the rest of the piping propped against the wall sliding down to crash against the floor. She ducked back beneath the sofa with the dried crumbs and cough drop wrappers just in time to avoid getting crushed.
The sound of the hollow PVC banging into each other had sounded damn near apocalyptic to Alex's miniature ears. Seeing the disaster for itself, she couldn't help but worry for her partner's safety. She called out to Eva, leaving the safety of her hiding place and darting from pipe to pipe trying to find her. "Eva! Eva, where are you?!"
"S'all good," the resilient redhead announced. She crawled out from under the couch and dusted the actual bunny-sized dust bunnies from her person. "Just about met my maker for like the tenth time today is all."
Eva directed Alex towards the cut of pipe. It would wind up taking both of them to roll it across the floor to the vent. The shag was just that thick and crusty. There, Eva used her hand drill/screwdriver to remove the remaining screw holding the grate in place. Alex would then help wiggle it from one end while Eva worked it from the other until at last the grate fell to the floor. The dust and cigarette ash kicked up by its impact left both women coughing and sneezing.
The tube just barely fit inside the vent, but through some collective trial and error, the tiny women maneuvered it inside. Lifting the heavy grate back into place was the hardest part. But, where one person may have struggled, two managed the task just fine. It was Eva and Alex's turn to climb back inside the vent, and the pulled the cover flush behind them. Now there were two screws lying on Dean Roper's floor, but from the state of his living conditions, the only way he'd ever notice was if he happened to step on one.
Shoving the pipe down the vent from behind, the shrunken duo inched it towards the vertical shaft. The light to their rear faded with more and more with distance. The pitch darkness surrounding them signaled that they were near. Having kept track of her steps from when their return to Roper's apartment, Eva waited to strike another match until she felt they were close. When she did, she found the gaping mouth of the square pit before her. It looked so eager to swallow their improvised bridge, like one of those sand worms straight out of a Frank Herbert novel.
"Alright alright alright," Eva sighed, "and awaaaaaay we go."
"Um, Eva," Alex interrupted, "how do we keep it from falling in when we push it across."
Eva had been contemplating the same thing since she first set eyes on the piping.
"Basically... you're going have to push it."
Alex seemed surprised, "what's that now?"
"I mean," Eva clarified, "that I don't think you weigh enough to hold the end of the pipe down. Not before the other end gets too heavy... but I might."
"Eva! You can't-"
"Don't think about it. Just push. It'll be fine. I'll be fine." The more experienced in the ways of shrunken problem solving tried to assure her.
Alexandra knew she had to beat down her anxieties and do as Eva asked, but goddamn this was a big ask. She could hear her larger friend step into the mouth of the tube. It rolled from side to side as Eva tried to distribute her weight to balance it. Once it finally stopped rocking, she asked, "are you ready?"
"No," Alex replied, "but when was the last time I got what I wanted?"
Eva chuckled, "I hear ya, pardner." The mouth of the pipe was fairly cramped for someone her size, so she had to crouch down as she backed into what could very quickly become her coffin.
Alex braced her hands against the rim of the smooth tube and took several deep breaths. This would not be easy. She was so much smaller and weaker than Eva, who really should have been the one on the outside, not her. Eva believed she could do this, and without hesitation. For the moment, that would have to be enough.
Like an engine revving up at the starting line, Alex's breath quickened. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Then... she pushed...
End Part 20
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 21-"A Leap from the Lion's Head..."
The all encompassing darkness made little difference, Eva still found herself clenching her eyes shut, bracing herself as best as she could against the rounded walls of the pipe. She could sense Alexandra directly in front of her. The smaller woman's labored grunts with each straining shove would've given that away anyway. Inch by agonizing inch the pipe would slide forward. It was the best the tiny brunette could do with Eva's weight added to the already cumbersome pipe. Their only chance of getting across what for them may as well have been a bottomless pit.
This shaft was not bottomless at all though. Somewhere far below waited an old furnace, long overdue for replacing. A dormant dragon for sure, but that didn't mean it couldn't still swallow them up like an easy meal. In the unlikely event that the pair of miniaturized women somehow survived the fall, they'd still find themselves trapped in the dragon's belly with little to no chance for escape. The furnace would become their tomb either way.
Crossing to other side of the shaft did not guarantee they'd be any closer to their ultimate goal, the office of Alexandra's former employer, Lucio Fulci. A well connected member of the D'Amato crime family... and double-crossing weasel extraordinaire. If not for him, Alexandra would be home with her husband and child instead of climbing through a building's ventilation system at four inches tall. A living action figure. A plaything at the mercy of a mysteriously undying man who treated her just as such. The one and only Emil DeTorres, aka The Broker. She hated Fulci for what she'd become, and yes, maybe the man did deserve to die, but Alex still did not wish to kill him. Or anyone else for that matter.
"You're doin' great, Alex," Eva cheered her partner on, trying to hide the quivering vibrato of terror in her voice. An adrenaline junkie, for sure, but this was a horse of a completely different color. This wasn't a thrilling ride inside an enormous tool caddy or a battle with an especially territorial arachnid. It was too dark to even see her own hand in front of her face. Any wrong move could cause the pipe to roll out of control and tumble into the pit. Most distressingly of all, her safety was completely reliant on another, not something Eva was used to in the slightest. Yes, the adrenaline she normally craved was pumping, but this was anything but a good time.
"Steady as she goes," Eva coached her apprentice. Mostly to distract herself from her own building terror.
Alexandra was just as nervous. There wasn't any kind of control to be found over the task at hand. No method for success. The tube, and Eva just inside it, were so heavy that she had to throw every ounce of strength she had at the pipe just to slide it forward a few measly centimeters. The extreme situations that had brought her to this moment... the spider... the basement flood... the whirlwind trip up a countless set of stairs. Nearly falling to her death in the very shaft she now pushed her only companion towards out of necessity. Any one of these situations would have killed the will to go on fro any sane individual.
Her family. It was the thoughts of them that gave Alexandra the strength she needed to carry on. She was more determined than ever to protect them from DeTorres's threats.
The pipe continued to scrape along the bottom of the vent one small advancement at a time. By then, Dean Roper had returned to his apartment, his angry rantings echoing their way down the ventilation shaft to Alex and Eva.
"Bet he's a real lady's man," Eva quipped, still trying to alleviate the tension.
Alex laughed mid shove, causing her feet to slip as the plastic pipe scooted a little closer to the edge, "I'm sure his Tinder is blowin' up with all the best lot lizards."
Eva chuckled awkwardly, needing a little more clarification, "what the fuck is a lot lizard?"
"Well...," Alex thought for a second, taking a small break to wipe the sweat from her brow, "you grew up in Texas, right?"
Eva laughed again, "yeah?"
"They got hookers down there?"
"Uh-huh," the larger one replied.
"I'm sure they got trust stops too, right?"
Eva laughed, "uh...yeah, it's Texas!"
Alex forced herself against the pipe once more, "now imagine what a hooker would look like if they hung around an interstate truck stop for about forty years."
This sent the redhead into full-on laughter. A momentary distraction, but a welcome one none the less. The pipe she crouched in tilted behind her, ever so slightly, but more than enough to catch Eva off balance. She lost her footing, which caused the plastic tunnel to tilt even more. Her fingers caught hold of the mouth of the tube before she could slide any further inside, but the pipe was still tipping.
"OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!!!" Oh god, this was it! She'd fucked up. And she was going to pay for it in the most extreme way possible.
Suddenly, Eva felt the pipe slam back down level, "AAALLLLEEEEEEX?!"
"I'm here," the tiny mother replied. She too had felt the pipe begin to tilt into the shaft, and without even thinking, stepped onto the lip. She knew she weighed next to nothing, but she hoped that 'next to' would be enough to level the pipe. She just did it, without thinking about whether or not it would actually work.
"I'm here, just hold on!" With everything she had left, Alexandra shoved the pipe forward for the last time. She could feel it bump into the wall across the shaft and then hop onto even ground. "Eva! Eva! I think we did it!"
"Quick! Strike a match!" Eva replied.
Alex dropped her bag from her shoulders and unzipped its comically oversized zipper. She felt around inside, relying solely on touch without light to guide her. It only took a few seconds before her fingertips grazed the familiarly rough texture of a fresh matchstick. She tried dragging it across the ground several times, but the damned thing would not ignite.
"Fuck!" She screamed at the offending match. "It's a dud!" Alex tossed it aside, hearing its echo diminish gradually as it bounced to an eventual rest somewhere behind her.
Eva had not left the pipe, too afraid that if she moved the thing might roll down the shaft and take her with it. "Try another!"
"I only have one left!" Alex informed her.
Eva wasn't sure she could hold herself still for much longer, "I still have mine... just do it!"
That may have been true, but if Eva really was about to plummet several very long stories to her death, then Alex wasn't certain she would be able to retrieve her partner's matches without causing the pipe to fall herself. She reached into her bag and extracted the final match. She placed the red tip upon the cold, metal floor and dragged it as hard and as fast as she could, praying for a spark. The end of the match exploded with white, blinding light... then dimmed to a yellow flicker.
"YEEEEESSS!" She screamed with excitement. Alex held the flaming stick carefully so that the breeze sweeping through the vent would not extinguish its already short life. Even with the dimness of light a single match could provide, she could finally see that they had, in fact, bridged the gap. "We did it, Eva! It's gonna work! Quick, crawl through before the match goes out!"
Eva saluted her diminutive partner without saying a word, then turned into the cylindrical bridge on her hands and knees. The next problem presented itself immediately... the pipe wanted to roll. With each step forward, the awkward passage would shift to the left or right like a funhouse tunnel. The match's light quickly disappeared in yet another puff of smoke. The exhausted redhead found herself in the uncertain darkness once again.
"Alex, you think you could hold the pipe steady," Eva's voice cracked with fear as the rounded walls of her current predicament rolled to the right once again.
The smaller brunette jammed what was left of her spent match stick under one side of the pipe and used her foot to chock the other. To try and steady it further, she placed her hands on the rims and held it true with the tightest death grip she'd ever attempted. "Is that any better?"
Eva moved forward a little more. While the plastic death trap still felt horribly unstable, Alex's efforts did seem to help. "Yeah, just don't move, ok?" The quiver in her voice was unmistakable this time.
"I'm not going anywhere," Alex tried to assure her. She hoped she was right. With each sway of the pipe on her bare foot, it felt like it's weight, combined with Eva's, was going to crush it. "Just don't set up camp in there, will ya?"
"Trust me, no one wants to be in here less than me," Eva replied. Her voice reverberated through the tube the further she crawled from her tinier teammate.
"We'll see," Alex countered, "I haven't gone through yet. You may have to drag my ass through it."
Eva's empty laugh that followed sounded more distant than she really was, "fat chance! I don't ever want to do this again! Even if it means I have to parachute out the fucking window!"
Alex couldn't help but wonder if her partner's remark was based on actual experience.
"I think I'm almost through," Eva announced, interrupting Alex's musings. Sure enough, the pipe wanted to roll harder than ever, but suddenly felt significantly lighter. The flash from another match strike on the other side of the shaft confirmed for Alexandra that her partner had reached the other side safely. "Come on!" Eva hollered from across the gap, "before you lose the light!"
Indeed, a guiding light at the other end of the tunnel bridge was a luxury not afforded the current match bearer. Alex would not take it for granted. Her much smaller size allowed for her to crouch through the pipe instead of crawl as Eva had been forced to, which also allowed for more careful placement of her footing. Even though she knew Eva was on the other end holding the cut piping in place, Alex was still understandably cautious.
"How ya doin' in there, pipsqueak?" Asked Eva.
"I feel like Indiana Jones at the end of The Last Crusade," Alex mused.
Eva snarked right back, "I told you I don't watch old boomer movies!"
Alex rolled her eyes, "'boomer movies.' Right." She took another gentle step forward, then another. "You know... I'm not sure what's worse... being able to see the drop beneath you... or not being able see it, but still knowing it's there."
Eva chuckled, "I was just thinking the exact same thing!"
The taller redhead was surprised to feel Alex's arms suddenly encircling her waist, causing both women to fall over at once. The match fell from Eva's hand and snuffed out as it hit the steel floor. The sudden embrace was mostly an unconscious gesture from the smaller of the two, one that came out of both relief and affection. Once again, Eva's quick thinking and ingenuity had provided a win. The unlikely pair of shrunken women collapsed with relief, taking another well earned break so they could gather themselves for the next leg of the journey.
"Thank god DeTorres didn't interrupt that time," Alex remarked.
"Yeah," Eva agreed, "no shit!"
Alexandra let the cool air circulating through the vent wash over her. She closed her eyes to enjoy the way it made the beads of sweat on her skin feel even colder. Eva was laughing next to her, for no real reason other than the feeling of surviving yet another peril and coming down off the adrenaline high it gave her. Hearing her partner's laughter had Alex catching herself smiling.
The moment felt weird, conflicted even. On one hand, the morbid insanity of their predicament was sure to creep back up and smack her in the face at any second. On the other, the adrenaline rush and wave of euphoria that followed was enough to remind the tiny brunette of better times. Alex wondered if she really could accept this new life of hers. That she may still have purpose, even at four inches tall. Not for DeTorres... but for herself. Maybe... just maybe...
Rumble...
Roll...
Rumble...
Roll...
Rumble...
CRASH! BANG BANG! Clang! Bang! Bang...
The match Alex had left lodged under the pipe on the other side had given the tube just enough of a nudge to allow it to roll once no one was there to hold it in place. Their PVC bridge rolled into the shaft, bouncing and clanging against the walls on its express trip to the basement before either Eva or Alex could think to react.
"Was that...?" Eva began to ask, even though she already knew the answer. Her laughter had dissipated in an instant.
"Looks like we just gave the building manager another reason to get upset," Alexandra joked.
Eva felt less than amused, "fuck. I hope to God that wasn't our only way out of this dump."
Alex, on the other hand, erupted into an outright cackle, "so... parachutes, huh?!"
End Part 21
The all encompassing darkness made little difference, Eva still found herself clenching her eyes shut, bracing herself as best as she could against the rounded walls of the pipe. She could sense Alexandra directly in front of her. The smaller woman's labored grunts with each straining shove would've given that away anyway. Inch by agonizing inch the pipe would slide forward. It was the best the tiny brunette could do with Eva's weight added to the already cumbersome pipe. Their only chance of getting across what for them may as well have been a bottomless pit.
This shaft was not bottomless at all though. Somewhere far below waited an old furnace, long overdue for replacing. A dormant dragon for sure, but that didn't mean it couldn't still swallow them up like an easy meal. In the unlikely event that the pair of miniaturized women somehow survived the fall, they'd still find themselves trapped in the dragon's belly with little to no chance for escape. The furnace would become their tomb either way.
Crossing to other side of the shaft did not guarantee they'd be any closer to their ultimate goal, the office of Alexandra's former employer, Lucio Fulci. A well connected member of the D'Amato crime family... and double-crossing weasel extraordinaire. If not for him, Alexandra would be home with her husband and child instead of climbing through a building's ventilation system at four inches tall. A living action figure. A plaything at the mercy of a mysteriously undying man who treated her just as such. The one and only Emil DeTorres, aka The Broker. She hated Fulci for what she'd become, and yes, maybe the man did deserve to die, but Alex still did not wish to kill him. Or anyone else for that matter.
"You're doin' great, Alex," Eva cheered her partner on, trying to hide the quivering vibrato of terror in her voice. An adrenaline junkie, for sure, but this was a horse of a completely different color. This wasn't a thrilling ride inside an enormous tool caddy or a battle with an especially territorial arachnid. It was too dark to even see her own hand in front of her face. Any wrong move could cause the pipe to roll out of control and tumble into the pit. Most distressingly of all, her safety was completely reliant on another, not something Eva was used to in the slightest. Yes, the adrenaline she normally craved was pumping, but this was anything but a good time.
"Steady as she goes," Eva coached her apprentice. Mostly to distract herself from her own building terror.
Alexandra was just as nervous. There wasn't any kind of control to be found over the task at hand. No method for success. The tube, and Eva just inside it, were so heavy that she had to throw every ounce of strength she had at the pipe just to slide it forward a few measly centimeters. The extreme situations that had brought her to this moment... the spider... the basement flood... the whirlwind trip up a countless set of stairs. Nearly falling to her death in the very shaft she now pushed her only companion towards out of necessity. Any one of these situations would have killed the will to go on fro any sane individual.
Her family. It was the thoughts of them that gave Alexandra the strength she needed to carry on. She was more determined than ever to protect them from DeTorres's threats.
The pipe continued to scrape along the bottom of the vent one small advancement at a time. By then, Dean Roper had returned to his apartment, his angry rantings echoing their way down the ventilation shaft to Alex and Eva.
"Bet he's a real lady's man," Eva quipped, still trying to alleviate the tension.
Alex laughed mid shove, causing her feet to slip as the plastic pipe scooted a little closer to the edge, "I'm sure his Tinder is blowin' up with all the best lot lizards."
Eva chuckled awkwardly, needing a little more clarification, "what the fuck is a lot lizard?"
"Well...," Alex thought for a second, taking a small break to wipe the sweat from her brow, "you grew up in Texas, right?"
Eva laughed again, "yeah?"
"They got hookers down there?"
"Uh-huh," the larger one replied.
"I'm sure they got trust stops too, right?"
Eva laughed, "uh...yeah, it's Texas!"
Alex forced herself against the pipe once more, "now imagine what a hooker would look like if they hung around an interstate truck stop for about forty years."
This sent the redhead into full-on laughter. A momentary distraction, but a welcome one none the less. The pipe she crouched in tilted behind her, ever so slightly, but more than enough to catch Eva off balance. She lost her footing, which caused the plastic tunnel to tilt even more. Her fingers caught hold of the mouth of the tube before she could slide any further inside, but the pipe was still tipping.
"OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!!!" Oh god, this was it! She'd fucked up. And she was going to pay for it in the most extreme way possible.
Suddenly, Eva felt the pipe slam back down level, "AAALLLLEEEEEEX?!"
"I'm here," the tiny mother replied. She too had felt the pipe begin to tilt into the shaft, and without even thinking, stepped onto the lip. She knew she weighed next to nothing, but she hoped that 'next to' would be enough to level the pipe. She just did it, without thinking about whether or not it would actually work.
"I'm here, just hold on!" With everything she had left, Alexandra shoved the pipe forward for the last time. She could feel it bump into the wall across the shaft and then hop onto even ground. "Eva! Eva! I think we did it!"
"Quick! Strike a match!" Eva replied.
Alex dropped her bag from her shoulders and unzipped its comically oversized zipper. She felt around inside, relying solely on touch without light to guide her. It only took a few seconds before her fingertips grazed the familiarly rough texture of a fresh matchstick. She tried dragging it across the ground several times, but the damned thing would not ignite.
"Fuck!" She screamed at the offending match. "It's a dud!" Alex tossed it aside, hearing its echo diminish gradually as it bounced to an eventual rest somewhere behind her.
Eva had not left the pipe, too afraid that if she moved the thing might roll down the shaft and take her with it. "Try another!"
"I only have one left!" Alex informed her.
Eva wasn't sure she could hold herself still for much longer, "I still have mine... just do it!"
That may have been true, but if Eva really was about to plummet several very long stories to her death, then Alex wasn't certain she would be able to retrieve her partner's matches without causing the pipe to fall herself. She reached into her bag and extracted the final match. She placed the red tip upon the cold, metal floor and dragged it as hard and as fast as she could, praying for a spark. The end of the match exploded with white, blinding light... then dimmed to a yellow flicker.
"YEEEEESSS!" She screamed with excitement. Alex held the flaming stick carefully so that the breeze sweeping through the vent would not extinguish its already short life. Even with the dimness of light a single match could provide, she could finally see that they had, in fact, bridged the gap. "We did it, Eva! It's gonna work! Quick, crawl through before the match goes out!"
Eva saluted her diminutive partner without saying a word, then turned into the cylindrical bridge on her hands and knees. The next problem presented itself immediately... the pipe wanted to roll. With each step forward, the awkward passage would shift to the left or right like a funhouse tunnel. The match's light quickly disappeared in yet another puff of smoke. The exhausted redhead found herself in the uncertain darkness once again.
"Alex, you think you could hold the pipe steady," Eva's voice cracked with fear as the rounded walls of her current predicament rolled to the right once again.
The smaller brunette jammed what was left of her spent match stick under one side of the pipe and used her foot to chock the other. To try and steady it further, she placed her hands on the rims and held it true with the tightest death grip she'd ever attempted. "Is that any better?"
Eva moved forward a little more. While the plastic death trap still felt horribly unstable, Alex's efforts did seem to help. "Yeah, just don't move, ok?" The quiver in her voice was unmistakable this time.
"I'm not going anywhere," Alex tried to assure her. She hoped she was right. With each sway of the pipe on her bare foot, it felt like it's weight, combined with Eva's, was going to crush it. "Just don't set up camp in there, will ya?"
"Trust me, no one wants to be in here less than me," Eva replied. Her voice reverberated through the tube the further she crawled from her tinier teammate.
"We'll see," Alex countered, "I haven't gone through yet. You may have to drag my ass through it."
Eva's empty laugh that followed sounded more distant than she really was, "fat chance! I don't ever want to do this again! Even if it means I have to parachute out the fucking window!"
Alex couldn't help but wonder if her partner's remark was based on actual experience.
"I think I'm almost through," Eva announced, interrupting Alex's musings. Sure enough, the pipe wanted to roll harder than ever, but suddenly felt significantly lighter. The flash from another match strike on the other side of the shaft confirmed for Alexandra that her partner had reached the other side safely. "Come on!" Eva hollered from across the gap, "before you lose the light!"
Indeed, a guiding light at the other end of the tunnel bridge was a luxury not afforded the current match bearer. Alex would not take it for granted. Her much smaller size allowed for her to crouch through the pipe instead of crawl as Eva had been forced to, which also allowed for more careful placement of her footing. Even though she knew Eva was on the other end holding the cut piping in place, Alex was still understandably cautious.
"How ya doin' in there, pipsqueak?" Asked Eva.
"I feel like Indiana Jones at the end of The Last Crusade," Alex mused.
Eva snarked right back, "I told you I don't watch old boomer movies!"
Alex rolled her eyes, "'boomer movies.' Right." She took another gentle step forward, then another. "You know... I'm not sure what's worse... being able to see the drop beneath you... or not being able see it, but still knowing it's there."
Eva chuckled, "I was just thinking the exact same thing!"
The taller redhead was surprised to feel Alex's arms suddenly encircling her waist, causing both women to fall over at once. The match fell from Eva's hand and snuffed out as it hit the steel floor. The sudden embrace was mostly an unconscious gesture from the smaller of the two, one that came out of both relief and affection. Once again, Eva's quick thinking and ingenuity had provided a win. The unlikely pair of shrunken women collapsed with relief, taking another well earned break so they could gather themselves for the next leg of the journey.
"Thank god DeTorres didn't interrupt that time," Alex remarked.
"Yeah," Eva agreed, "no shit!"
Alexandra let the cool air circulating through the vent wash over her. She closed her eyes to enjoy the way it made the beads of sweat on her skin feel even colder. Eva was laughing next to her, for no real reason other than the feeling of surviving yet another peril and coming down off the adrenaline high it gave her. Hearing her partner's laughter had Alex catching herself smiling.
The moment felt weird, conflicted even. On one hand, the morbid insanity of their predicament was sure to creep back up and smack her in the face at any second. On the other, the adrenaline rush and wave of euphoria that followed was enough to remind the tiny brunette of better times. Alex wondered if she really could accept this new life of hers. That she may still have purpose, even at four inches tall. Not for DeTorres... but for herself. Maybe... just maybe...
Rumble...
Roll...
Rumble...
Roll...
Rumble...
CRASH! BANG BANG! Clang! Bang! Bang...
The match Alex had left lodged under the pipe on the other side had given the tube just enough of a nudge to allow it to roll once no one was there to hold it in place. Their PVC bridge rolled into the shaft, bouncing and clanging against the walls on its express trip to the basement before either Eva or Alex could think to react.
"Was that...?" Eva began to ask, even though she already knew the answer. Her laughter had dissipated in an instant.
"Looks like we just gave the building manager another reason to get upset," Alexandra joked.
Eva felt less than amused, "fuck. I hope to God that wasn't our only way out of this dump."
Alex, on the other hand, erupted into an outright cackle, "so... parachutes, huh?!"
End Part 21
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Leveraged: A Sequel to Tumbled
Part 22-"Tempers Flare"
The ventilation system led the shrunken duo further beneath the boards of the still unknown floor number. The passage would not lead them to another grate, as expected, but to a massive box fan. It's low hum could be felt vibrating through the metal beneath their feet, growing ever more intense as the would be assassins drew nearer. The rectangular corridor would give way to a much different structure altogether. The crinkling, rounded walls were easy enough to slice through with Eva's handy-dandy knife. This came as a massive relief to both women, considering the alternative was figuring out how to stop those massive, deadly blades buffeting the air around them.
Finally able to view the contraption in full, Dean Roper's skills... or lack thereof... were on full display. This "cooling unit" was a hack job, for sure. The bouncing, rounded tunnel Eva and Alexandra had cut their way through was only thin ductwork meant to vent the heat from a clothes dryer, which in turn had been duct taped to the greasy old box fan. More slinky-like dryer venting was drooping across the interior of what appeared to be a storage closet, over the seat of a chair, and also taped to the intake side of the fan.
"What is it?" Eva asked her more mature partner, scratching her head at the shoddily constructed device.
"Looks like our friendly neighborhood superintendent is using this... thing... to steal air conditioning from the other apartments on the floor," Alexandra replied, having her earlier suspicions confirmed. "I'm actually starting to feel bad for that loudmouthed old bitch downstairs if this is the sort of shit she's had to put up with."
"Sounds like something my dad would pull," Eva mused. It didn't seem like much, but the remark provided Alex with a rare insight into the younger woman's past... one that left an uncomfortable silence hanging between the two.
"Is he-," Alexandra began to ask, but Eva had little interest in discussing the son-of-a-bitch she had to call father. She cut her smaller partner off with a raised hand, then turned towards the thin beam of light penetrating beneath the closet door.
"Lets go."
"Sorry... I didn't mean to...," Alexandra knew she'd put her foot in mouth. Eva, usually the very embodiment of positivity, had turned cold on her. There was history of abuse there, Eva had told her so much herself, but the way she'd shut her down like that... there had to be something more behind her companion's reaction. Alex thought better of pressing the subject any further, choosing instead to follow the woman training her in silence.
Light was sparse inside the broom closet, but the little there was helped to navigate the snaking tendrils of mops, vacuum hoses, and whatever else Roper had haphazardly stuffed inside the modest space. From Alexandra's perspective, the monstrously oversized clutter seemed to lurk in the shadows. Like lifeless monuments to a long lost race. Forgotten ruins just waiting for these unlikely adventurers to rediscover them. Alex was getting lost in her own head again, doubling her pace in order to catch up with Eva.
Enough plaster and wood had worn away over the decades to allow both Alex and Eva to slip beneath the door and into the hallway. The later needed a bit of a hand when her rear end got hung up underneath. Nothing too serious.
The light filling the hallway took a moment for their tiny eyes to adjust to. When the blur cleared, a corridor seemingly built for god's stood before them. While it was nice to finally get out of the darkness, Alex had not yet felt this exposed. The hallway was empty and silent. Mostly silent anyway, the muffled sounds of televisions and conversation could be heard bleeding through the walls. Any second, one of those enormous, numbered rectangular gateways could swing open. Yet another gargantuan human being could emerge from it, and there would be nowhere to hide.
Eva startled Alex a little, breaking through her now frequent mental spiraling, "any idea where we are?"
The smaller of the two began to walk back from the wall, craning her neck to read the brass number on the closest door, so very high above them. Her squinting eyes broke wide with shock, "401! Eva! We made it all the way to the fourth floor!"
Though that day had ranked highly among the worst days of her life, Alex's sense of accomplishment couldn't be hidden by the smile dying to break free.
Eva just smirked and thumbed toward the stairwell, "don't go patting yourself on the back just yet... we still gotta climb those."
The stairs disappeared around the wall, just as the other flights she'd briefly caught glimpses of while hiding within Dean Roper's toolbox. The burgeoning smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived. The tiny brunette's eyes slowly rose upwards. She was already so exhausted... and now she had a mountain to conquer.
"Status update," DeTorres's voice rang out from the collars linked around both women's necks with its usual abruptness.
This time Alex answered first, "goddamnit! Will you please stop doing that?! What do you want from us?! You're gonna blow our cover for christsakes!"
There was a brief pause from the other end. "Do you have eyes on the target, over."
Alex was about to blow her top.
"That's it?! 'Do we have eyes on the target?!' That's what you need to put us at risk for?!" Alex pulled the collar's microphone as close to her mouth as she could, "you listen here, motherfucker... you may hold all the cards, but I will NOT risk my daughter's life any further with these asinine interruptions. Fulci will die, you can take that promise to the bank, but we're gonna do it without you fucking it up or getting us caught. Shut the fuck up and let us do the job YOU assigned us, is that so fucking hard?!"
Eva stared back at her diminutive partner with wide-eyed surprise. Even she wouldn't dare talk back to the bossman that way.
"Do you hear me, DeTorres?!" Alex repeated.
"Over," Eva whispered, "say over."
Alex paused, "oh... right. Fucking hell." She pressed the com button again, "over."
The sound that came back wasn't exactly what either expected... it was laughter.
Eva decided to jump in, "Sir?"
DeTorres couldn't help himself. Receiving an ultimatum like this from someone smaller than his middle finger was just too amusing. "Did you hear that, Number One?! It would appear that our Mrs. Clark here is running the show now!"
Emil's taunting was like throwing gasoline on the fire of Alex's rage. She unzipped Eva's pack and retrieved the grappling hook, stomping off towards the stairs and cursing to herself the entire way. Anger can be a hell of a motivator, and the latest interaction with The Broker was just the kick in the ass she need to make the push through the final leg of their journey.
Eva was left dumbfounded by Alex's outburst and subsequent reaction. She sat there for a moment, listening to her boss's laughter while she worked up the nerve to speak up.
"Hey... uh... boss? Boss? Over."
Emil was reaching his limit. His stomach hurt from laughing and needed to calm himself down. "Yes... haha... yes Number One? Hehehehe... over."
"Um... boss? Please don't punish Alex for blowing up. She's just... scared... and frustrated. It's been a hell of a difficult day. But...," Eva held back, worried that what she was about to ask might land her in the hot seat as well.
"Hmhmhmhm... but what, Number One? Over."
Eva closed her eyes and let the words flow, "I think she's right. I think we need to maintain radio silence from here on out. I'm used to how things work, and if it were just me, there wouldn't be a problem. She's new... and... and she needs to focus. Over."
"And why should Number Two receive preferential treatment over anyone else in my employ? Over." DeTorres asked amusedly.
"I'm not asking that, sir. She'll have to learn to do things your way, I one hundred percent agree. I'm just asking you to trust that I know what I'm doing. Over."
DeTorres finally tapered his chuckling down to mild amusement, "trusting you is not the problem, Number One. Over."
"Then please, let me do things my way. Alex'll come around, I know it. O-over."
Another pause in the conversation left Eva feeling heavy and nervous. Though it only lasted a few seconds, the silence felt like an eternity.
DeTorres finally returned with his answer, "you will inform me the minute the target has been dealt with? Over."
Eva jumped at his words, "yes! Of course, sir! Over."
"Then I'll hear from you again when you're ready for extraction. Do not disappoint me, Number One. Over and out."
Alexandra suddenly shouted from the stairwell, "hey! You gonna chit chat with that fucking asshole all day or are we gonna get this bullshit over with?!" She'd already made her way up the second step and was beginning to scale the third.
"Coming!" Eva assured her. The way she'd just been forced to put herself out there for Alexandra had left her a little shaken. She just hoped that her partner wouldn't make her eat crow with DeTorres later on. Trust in others is a hard thing to come by, especially among thieves. But for Eva, the desire was there.
The half-foot tall redhead snatched up her pack and rushed to join Alex on the stair. Just one more flight and they'd have made it. They'd kill this Fulci fella and be out of this godforsaken place before dinner time.
Yeah.
Piece of cake.
Alex, on the other hand, had meant what she said. She was over it. All of it. DeTorres... Fulci... trying to find acceptance that she was, in fact, four inches tall. Even her reservations about killing were falling by the wayside. She would kill Fulci, just as she said... but The Broker was not long to follow...
End Part 22
The ventilation system led the shrunken duo further beneath the boards of the still unknown floor number. The passage would not lead them to another grate, as expected, but to a massive box fan. It's low hum could be felt vibrating through the metal beneath their feet, growing ever more intense as the would be assassins drew nearer. The rectangular corridor would give way to a much different structure altogether. The crinkling, rounded walls were easy enough to slice through with Eva's handy-dandy knife. This came as a massive relief to both women, considering the alternative was figuring out how to stop those massive, deadly blades buffeting the air around them.
Finally able to view the contraption in full, Dean Roper's skills... or lack thereof... were on full display. This "cooling unit" was a hack job, for sure. The bouncing, rounded tunnel Eva and Alexandra had cut their way through was only thin ductwork meant to vent the heat from a clothes dryer, which in turn had been duct taped to the greasy old box fan. More slinky-like dryer venting was drooping across the interior of what appeared to be a storage closet, over the seat of a chair, and also taped to the intake side of the fan.
"What is it?" Eva asked her more mature partner, scratching her head at the shoddily constructed device.
"Looks like our friendly neighborhood superintendent is using this... thing... to steal air conditioning from the other apartments on the floor," Alexandra replied, having her earlier suspicions confirmed. "I'm actually starting to feel bad for that loudmouthed old bitch downstairs if this is the sort of shit she's had to put up with."
"Sounds like something my dad would pull," Eva mused. It didn't seem like much, but the remark provided Alex with a rare insight into the younger woman's past... one that left an uncomfortable silence hanging between the two.
"Is he-," Alexandra began to ask, but Eva had little interest in discussing the son-of-a-bitch she had to call father. She cut her smaller partner off with a raised hand, then turned towards the thin beam of light penetrating beneath the closet door.
"Lets go."
"Sorry... I didn't mean to...," Alexandra knew she'd put her foot in mouth. Eva, usually the very embodiment of positivity, had turned cold on her. There was history of abuse there, Eva had told her so much herself, but the way she'd shut her down like that... there had to be something more behind her companion's reaction. Alex thought better of pressing the subject any further, choosing instead to follow the woman training her in silence.
Light was sparse inside the broom closet, but the little there was helped to navigate the snaking tendrils of mops, vacuum hoses, and whatever else Roper had haphazardly stuffed inside the modest space. From Alexandra's perspective, the monstrously oversized clutter seemed to lurk in the shadows. Like lifeless monuments to a long lost race. Forgotten ruins just waiting for these unlikely adventurers to rediscover them. Alex was getting lost in her own head again, doubling her pace in order to catch up with Eva.
Enough plaster and wood had worn away over the decades to allow both Alex and Eva to slip beneath the door and into the hallway. The later needed a bit of a hand when her rear end got hung up underneath. Nothing too serious.
The light filling the hallway took a moment for their tiny eyes to adjust to. When the blur cleared, a corridor seemingly built for god's stood before them. While it was nice to finally get out of the darkness, Alex had not yet felt this exposed. The hallway was empty and silent. Mostly silent anyway, the muffled sounds of televisions and conversation could be heard bleeding through the walls. Any second, one of those enormous, numbered rectangular gateways could swing open. Yet another gargantuan human being could emerge from it, and there would be nowhere to hide.
Eva startled Alex a little, breaking through her now frequent mental spiraling, "any idea where we are?"
The smaller of the two began to walk back from the wall, craning her neck to read the brass number on the closest door, so very high above them. Her squinting eyes broke wide with shock, "401! Eva! We made it all the way to the fourth floor!"
Though that day had ranked highly among the worst days of her life, Alex's sense of accomplishment couldn't be hidden by the smile dying to break free.
Eva just smirked and thumbed toward the stairwell, "don't go patting yourself on the back just yet... we still gotta climb those."
The stairs disappeared around the wall, just as the other flights she'd briefly caught glimpses of while hiding within Dean Roper's toolbox. The burgeoning smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived. The tiny brunette's eyes slowly rose upwards. She was already so exhausted... and now she had a mountain to conquer.
"Status update," DeTorres's voice rang out from the collars linked around both women's necks with its usual abruptness.
This time Alex answered first, "goddamnit! Will you please stop doing that?! What do you want from us?! You're gonna blow our cover for christsakes!"
There was a brief pause from the other end. "Do you have eyes on the target, over."
Alex was about to blow her top.
"That's it?! 'Do we have eyes on the target?!' That's what you need to put us at risk for?!" Alex pulled the collar's microphone as close to her mouth as she could, "you listen here, motherfucker... you may hold all the cards, but I will NOT risk my daughter's life any further with these asinine interruptions. Fulci will die, you can take that promise to the bank, but we're gonna do it without you fucking it up or getting us caught. Shut the fuck up and let us do the job YOU assigned us, is that so fucking hard?!"
Eva stared back at her diminutive partner with wide-eyed surprise. Even she wouldn't dare talk back to the bossman that way.
"Do you hear me, DeTorres?!" Alex repeated.
"Over," Eva whispered, "say over."
Alex paused, "oh... right. Fucking hell." She pressed the com button again, "over."
The sound that came back wasn't exactly what either expected... it was laughter.
Eva decided to jump in, "Sir?"
DeTorres couldn't help himself. Receiving an ultimatum like this from someone smaller than his middle finger was just too amusing. "Did you hear that, Number One?! It would appear that our Mrs. Clark here is running the show now!"
Emil's taunting was like throwing gasoline on the fire of Alex's rage. She unzipped Eva's pack and retrieved the grappling hook, stomping off towards the stairs and cursing to herself the entire way. Anger can be a hell of a motivator, and the latest interaction with The Broker was just the kick in the ass she need to make the push through the final leg of their journey.
Eva was left dumbfounded by Alex's outburst and subsequent reaction. She sat there for a moment, listening to her boss's laughter while she worked up the nerve to speak up.
"Hey... uh... boss? Boss? Over."
Emil was reaching his limit. His stomach hurt from laughing and needed to calm himself down. "Yes... haha... yes Number One? Hehehehe... over."
"Um... boss? Please don't punish Alex for blowing up. She's just... scared... and frustrated. It's been a hell of a difficult day. But...," Eva held back, worried that what she was about to ask might land her in the hot seat as well.
"Hmhmhmhm... but what, Number One? Over."
Eva closed her eyes and let the words flow, "I think she's right. I think we need to maintain radio silence from here on out. I'm used to how things work, and if it were just me, there wouldn't be a problem. She's new... and... and she needs to focus. Over."
"And why should Number Two receive preferential treatment over anyone else in my employ? Over." DeTorres asked amusedly.
"I'm not asking that, sir. She'll have to learn to do things your way, I one hundred percent agree. I'm just asking you to trust that I know what I'm doing. Over."
DeTorres finally tapered his chuckling down to mild amusement, "trusting you is not the problem, Number One. Over."
"Then please, let me do things my way. Alex'll come around, I know it. O-over."
Another pause in the conversation left Eva feeling heavy and nervous. Though it only lasted a few seconds, the silence felt like an eternity.
DeTorres finally returned with his answer, "you will inform me the minute the target has been dealt with? Over."
Eva jumped at his words, "yes! Of course, sir! Over."
"Then I'll hear from you again when you're ready for extraction. Do not disappoint me, Number One. Over and out."
Alexandra suddenly shouted from the stairwell, "hey! You gonna chit chat with that fucking asshole all day or are we gonna get this bullshit over with?!" She'd already made her way up the second step and was beginning to scale the third.
"Coming!" Eva assured her. The way she'd just been forced to put herself out there for Alexandra had left her a little shaken. She just hoped that her partner wouldn't make her eat crow with DeTorres later on. Trust in others is a hard thing to come by, especially among thieves. But for Eva, the desire was there.
The half-foot tall redhead snatched up her pack and rushed to join Alex on the stair. Just one more flight and they'd have made it. They'd kill this Fulci fella and be out of this godforsaken place before dinner time.
Yeah.
Piece of cake.
Alex, on the other hand, had meant what she said. She was over it. All of it. DeTorres... Fulci... trying to find acceptance that she was, in fact, four inches tall. Even her reservations about killing were falling by the wayside. She would kill Fulci, just as she said... but The Broker was not long to follow...
End Part 22
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."
-Super Hans, Peep Show
-Super Hans, Peep Show
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