"The Shrunken"

[AmyRoberts]

"The Shrunken"

(Open. Please PM me first.)
​

6 months ago:

Hannah Taylor, PhD, could feel the excitement surging through her body. The Board had okayed the next phase of the teleportation experiment. Today, the Project would be teleporting Mabel, a chimpanzee.

Okay, sure, she wasn't a human being. But she was a mammal who not only shared 98.6% of her DNA with human beings but also spoke more than 1,000 words through sign language. If the test went as hoped, Hannah would be able to communicate with Mabel afterwards, asking such questions as How do you feel? Do you feel any pain? Can you tell me your name? What is 5+9?

She hadn't been able to ask such questions of the pig she'd previously, successfully transported from Pad A to Pad B. Or the Guinea pig before that. Or the white mouse, the cage of insects, so on and such forth backwards to the inanimate objects with which they'd begun almost four years ago.

This was to be the proof of concept for Hannah. Today, when all was finished, she would be able to communicate with her test subject and know, once and for all, that transportation of beings -- of human beings -- through space was safe.

"Okay, let's begin," she told the technicians surrounding her. She looked to the chamber and the test subject within and both spoke aloud and signed, "Are you ready, Mabel?"

The chimp signed back, Yes, Friend Hannah."

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One month ago:

The crisp pop of the cork leaving the champagne bottle sounded through the conference room, leading to cheers and other signs of delight. Hannah was surrounded by her technicians and other colleagues as they celebrated the Board's approval for the next phase of testing: human trials.

"To the future!" Hannah called out, elevating her glass before her. All about her, the others repeated her toast. She looked to the chimp as she played with the cork and drank from a bottle of sparkling cider and recapped, "Five months of testing Mabel has shown that teleportation of living beings is harmless to them."

She lifted her glass toward Sally Park, continuing, "Next month, we will send our brave volunteer through, and prove two decades of my life have not been a fucking waste of time!"

There was laughter, then applause.

Now:

Hannah's head swam in a feeling of combined disorientation and ecstasy. She would have sworn that she had just experienced the greatest orgasm of her life if she'd been naked and lying in bed.

She was the former, though: naked. But she didn't think she was in a bed. She was lying between two layers of a rough cloth, a coarse feeling, heavy fabric, like a horse blanket or tarp. If it was a bed, she was going to have to talk to someone about the thread count of the sheets.

Her vision was cloudy as she struggled to pull the layer of heavy cloth from her body, to look about for some clue of what was happening. But there seemed to be no edge to the covering, as if she was under a collapsed circus tent.

"What the hell?" she murmured. "What the hell?"

Considering her spinning head and nakedness, Hannah began worrying that she'd been roofied and raped. But how? Why? When? And by whom? The last thing she remembered was sitting at the monitoring console in the laboratory counting down the next phase of the test. Unsteadily, Hannah rolled to her hands and knees and began crawling, looking for a way out of what ever she was in.

There was a spot of brighter light in one direction, and she headed for it. She reached it and stood up. It took a long moment to realize what she was seeing: the lab. But ... it was huge! It had somehow grown to immense proportions, perhaps ten or twenty times its normal size.

"My God," she murmured, repeating louder, "My God! What happened?"

She just stood there looking about herself for the longest time. It was the lab. There was no doubt about that. But it was enormous. Or ... was it? The truth of the matter came to Hannah's still-spinning mind. The lab hadn't blown up in size. She had shrunk. She looked around herself and realized that the tarp she'd been trapped inside of was her clothes. That explained her nudity. Blouse, bra, slacks, panties, socks, shoes; all had apparently retained their size and were missing from her body, presumably within her clothing or on the floor near her chair's legs.

Hannah did some comparison and determined that she must be about 5 or 6 inches in height. Her proportions were normal. Her firm C-cups; her narrow waist; her long, athletic legs. They all seemed normal when compared to one another.

A thought hit her, and she climbed over a height of clothing to one side, pulling it downward to look beyond it. A couple of feet away -- what now appeared to be two dozen feet away -- was her Chief Technician, also shrunken, emerging from his own oversized clothing to look around himself at his altered world ... or not altered world?

"Tell me you're seeing this!" she called out. "Tell me aren't in a 'Honey, I shrunk the kids" movie."

 

[AmyRoberts]

Moments ago:

The differences between Hannah Taylor and Elizabeth Rollins had been vast prior to the incident at the Flogiston Laboratories. Hannah was a mild-mannered, deep-thinking, well-educated scientist who'd always thought that her physical appearance played a miniscule part in her life. Lizzie, on the other hand, was a wild, impetuous, high school dropout who considered her looks her greatest asset.

The only things that the two women had in common were the fact that they were, of course, female; and that they were both now a tenth the size that they'd been just minutes earlier. Lizzie hadn't been in the Flogiston lab at the time of the incident, of course. If you mentioned the word lab to her, she would assume you were talking about her father's dogs, Jip and Tater.

No, at the time of whatever it was that happened at the Flogiston Laboroatories, Lizzie had been sitting atop the countertop of her new dormitory room in Walters Hall, watching her lover-to-be performing a comical and amateurish striptease. The late-20ish man had spent the last two months helping the now 22-year-old Lizzie pass the half dozen tests she had to restart her education, this time around at Lane County Community College.

She wasn't all too excited about letting this particular guy fuck her. Oh, he was handsome and fit enough to pique her sexual interest. But he was also something of a geek or nerd or whatever the proper term was these days for guys who did the kind of things he did. He was some sort of research assistant at a sciency place in the building across the Quad, Froggerton or Flog-me-harder or something like that. But he'd gotten her through the tests, and she'd promised him a good time.

And then...

Lizzie returned to consciousness, lying on her back with her legs dangling over the countertop's edge. She blinked her eyes several times while simply staring upwards into blueness through unfocused eyes. Despite the differences between her and a certain female scientist whom she would meet soon enough, Lizzie had the same thoughts about date rape drugs. She'd actually been roofied and raped in the past ... twice, so she knew a little bit about the effects.

Reaching down between her thighs, though, she felt no indication that she'd had sex, willingly or not. She pushed the cloth that covered her upwards, trying to get it off her. It went nowhere. She was naked, too. She wasn't in a bed either. She rolled to her hands and knees and crawled, much as Hannah Taylor was doing a block away beyond the Quad. Emerging from under what she'd presumed to be a blanket, she found a similar situation to what the scientist responsible for the incident had found: she was atop the flat surface of the counter, naked, and just inches tall.

Lizzie found her heart pounding hard and fast at the confusion and fear. Whereas the PhD in the lab was capable of imagining that some aspect of her experiment could be responsible for what was happening, Lizzie had no concept whatsoever of what the fuck was happening to her.

She carefully stepped toward the edge of the counter, walking over what she would soon realize was her now-oversized tank top. She took tiny, stutter-steps forward until she was looking down at the distant floor. It should have been just over two feet below her but now looked to be more than twenty feet down. And sitting on his naked ass in the middle of said floor was her stripper tutor/lover-to-be, also shrunk to a miniscule size.

 

[HumanBean]

Now:

Roger Kline was suffering the same effects his boss was. More even. Spinning head. Sexual excitement. A boner, though. Also, chills up his spine and a wave of goose flesh out his arms.

The erection wouldn't have bothered him so much if he wasn't naked. Why was he naked? He was at work. He'd been sitting at his control panel. How suddenly was he naked under a tarp?

It wasn't a tarp, of course. It was his shirt. Roger only found that out when he crawled out, looked around, and came to the same conclusion that Hannah had.

"My God," he heard Hannah murmur from a few feet away. Then louder, "My God! What happened?"

The met eyes. She said excitedly, "Tell me you're seeing this! Tell me we aren't in a 'Honey, I shrunk the kids" movie."

"We aren't in a 'Honey, I shrunk the kids' movie," he said as if it had been an order.

Roger rose to his feet. He held the neckline of his shirt up to hide his groin from his boss. Hannah was doing the same, only up to hide her bosom. He couldn't see her nakedness, yet his cock twitched excitedly.

"We're not in a movie," Roger repeated. "Still, I couldn't even begin to explain this."

Roger had joined the program 6 years ago. He'd had some concerns about the science from the start. It had been radical. Revolutionary beyond what he thought possible or even safe. Despite his fears, though, he couldn't find anything wrong with that science. Over time, his fears subsided.

Now, his brain was screaming See? See? Told ya! I told ya so!

Roger needed to hide his nakedness. He always carried a hankerchief in his jacket's breast pocket. He could reach the pocket despite his new stature. He looked to Hannah, saying, "Don't peek, boss. I'm kinda naked here."

Roger waited for Hannah to turn away. He dropped the shirt hiding his privates, turned, and struggled until he had the hankie. Still turned away from Hannah, he folded it diagonally and wrapped himself almost as if donning a diaper. He turned back to Hannah, struck a pose, and asked with humor, "How do I look?"

He found himself relieved that he was a fit, athletic man. Roger had never worried about the condition of his body in Hannah's presence before. She'd never seen him shirtless, let alone even more scantily dressed. There'd never been a reason for it. It wasn't as if they were ever going to date. Hannah was attractive, and in all honesty, Roger had masturbated to fantasies of fucking her on multiple occasions.

But they were coworkers. Roger didn't fish off the company pier. He'd suffered too many times in too many different ways doing so in the past. Still, he was happy that he wasn't flashing man-boobs, a paunch belly, or rolls of fat. It was conceit, sure. But hey, every man liked to think he was the kind of man any good-looking woman would want to fuck, right?

Moving to the backside of the chair, Roger devised a way down to the floor using his dangling jacket's lapels. He wasn't sure what reaching the floor would do for him. He just knew that there was no reason to remain on the chair. He looked to Hannah, saying, "I'll try to find something for you to wear."

 

[JonathanBair]

Jonathan (Jon) Gordenson is a 19 year old intern. Jon's job is to turn the hand written notes and enter all the data in on the main computer. One second this was just a dull day like so many of him mindlessly typing what he sees. Then Jon starts to feel funny. When Jon comes to and he realized something must of gone wrong and he must of blacked out. Unknown to Jon he was like the rest finding him self trapped in this odd pile. Only Jon was sitting so his polo shirt fell down on him. Jon had to climb up when he sees the lab but it looks so wrong. The movie 'Honey, I shrunk the kids" comes to mind as that is the only thing that makes a logical thing. As we all know buildings can not just grow, so he must have shrunk...He knew he started the day out as 5'10 and can only wonder how tall he is. Jon then spots movement on the floor. Looks like someone tinny miles away! Well maybe a football field away but sure seams like miles away... Jon looks around and realizes he must be stuck on a computer chair.

Jon wants to meet up with who ever is on the floor, and knows he needs to get off the seat before a normal sized person wants to sit here. If there is any one normal sized left at all. Jon sees his jeans hanging down. Jon hopes the mass of the jeans and the shirt will balance his mass as he climbs down the leg of his own jean pants.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Moments before the incident:

Becky Davis had no connection to Flogiston Laboratories other than being their pizza delivery girl. And jeez, did they like their pizza! Both the day and evening shift front desk guards placed orders nearly every day. She entered through the secured building's only public entrance and headed for the front desk. Arriving there, though, she found no one manning it. She looked for one of those little call bells but found nothing. She growled quietly to herself, anxious to get back to her little economy pickup before a cop came by and ticketed her for parking in a handicapped space.

After a minute with no sign of the guards, Becky began wandering the lobby, looking for them or someone else. There were several doors off the lobby, but each was marked with a sign identifying it as restricted access. She returned to the front entrance to check for parking patrol or other ticket-writing cops but thankfully saw no one.

She noted a door that lacked the security sign and headed to it. She knocked meekly, heard no answer, cracked it open, and looked about. She didn't see anyone which sucked, but she also didn't see anything that seemed ... restricted. It was just an office. She called with a soft voice, again didn't get an answer, and entered--

--and when Becky regained consciousness, she was trapped under some sort of red tent-like cover. That alone would have been enough to make her panic, but she also quickly realized that she was naked! Becky flailed about, trying to find a way out of the tent, and once she found a gap, she paused -- she was naked and couldn't very well just run out into the Flogiston Laboratories office, could she?"

Becky paused to look about herself and quickly realized that she wasn't where she had been just a moment ago. Or ... was she? She slowly became aware of the situation: everything around her was huge, and the red tent she was under was her uniform ball cap. She was standing within the neck of her uniform shirt.

What the fuck?!? she asked herself in total panic. What's happening to me? Why am I tiny?

Becky didn't want to believe any of this. It was a dream, a nightmare! Then she remembered where she was, a laboratory. Maybe they were doing mad scientist shit here. They had shrunk her, and now they were going to ... what? The possibilities bounced around inside her confused head like balls in the Lotto machine at drawing time.

She didn't like not knowing what was happening, and she didn't like being a tiny human being, but what she really didn't like was being naked. Why the fuck am I naked? It took a minute or so to fully understand that she was hiding inside her clothes, which included her hat, polo shirt, bra, and presumably her pants, socks, and shoes, which she couldn't see at the moment.

Looking around the floor around her pile of clothing, Becky didn't see anyone else. The office had desks for a half dozen people, but she didn't see anyone at them. We're they shrunk, too? Maybe they weren't here? Becky had no answers for her questions.

Then she saw movement near a desk on the far side of the room. Her vision was still a bit blurry from whatever had happened to her, and she rubbed them to induce tears, hoping to clear them up. Eventually, her eyesight cleared enough for her to realize what she was seeing: another shrunken person, a man, running her way ... naked!

She immediately huddled back down into her little red shelter, pulling the neckline of the polo shirt all around her. Maybe he didn't see me...?

 

[JonathanBair]

Jon knew the pile of clothing in the middle of the floor was out of place. As for one the pile did not look like what any of the staff would be wearing. Second he knew where the pile was located would be away from any of the work areas, so unless some staff member would have been unlucky to be near the middle of the room that was the second clue that this person did not belong.

Jon was a mid looking guy, friendly personality and not overly athletic but in shape still. *shrugs* Jon was just really a normal college second year kid. Man could he feel not really working out from that long climb down his pants, then the long dash to the pile of clothing. Jon was shocked the first thing he seen was the pizza company logo on the hat. Jon feared it was there normal pizza girl... Jon called out in a friendly and calm tone "Hello are you awake?"

Jon did not really have a plan. Jon knew the dangers of being out in the open and he knew he kept a bunch of snacks, so his rough idea was who ever this is, get them to join him at his desk where they got shelter and food. Later on they can come up with something for water.... But he needs to make contact with this person first to get them to safety.

 

[AmyRoberts]

At the time of the incident:

Delores Keen was to have been at the lab for today's test but had had other business to take care of. As CEO of her now deceased father's comporation, Richard Keen Industries -- the parent company of Flogiston Laboratories -- she'd been the one who'd approved human trials. It was an event of unimaginable importance, obviously, worthy of her participation. But RKI was undergoing some potentially fatal financial difficulties, and today she'd found it necessary to be in London to speak to European investors.

The best she could do was watch the test as it played out on the massive monitor that fill most of the end wall of the London office's conference room. It was almost midnight in London, so most of the location's people had gone home for the night. The UK Division's Vice President had assigned a technician to tend to all of Delores's needs. He'd set the splitable monitor up to provide her with six views from the lab: a view of Pad A, from which Sally Park would be teleported; a view of Pad B, to which Sally would be transported; wider views of the teleportation room from its two ends; and two views in the Control Room from which the test was being run.

Delores had watched each of the previous tests, so she knew what to expect: a countdown from minutes to seconds, ending with the project's Chief Scientist, Hannah Taylor, saying five, four, three, two, one, mark; followed by a momentary interruption of signal caused by a still-unexplained power fluctuation effect on the lab's electrical systems; and finally in this test, the disappearance of Sally Park from Pad A and her reappearance on Pad B ... hopefully unharmed and giggling with excitement. Simple.

Or, it should have been. Instead, the countdown and signal interruption occurred exactly as expected, but when the views returned on the three big screens, Delores didn't see anything that she should have. Sally Park was on neither Pad A nor Pad B. And the two people running the test, Hannah and Roger Kline, were nowhere to be seen either.

Delores rose from her seat to look from one view to the other again and again. The technician -- who she'd dismissed for security reasons -- had arranged two-way communications between her and the lab, leading Delores to ask with an anxious tone, "Doctor ... Doctor Taylor! Explain what's happening. Doctor Taylor...? Mister Kline?"

She got no response, despite repeatedly asking and even demanding some sort of response. The two technicians were simply not there anymore nor was the test subject, Sally Park. Delores snatched up her cell phone, tapped a speed dial, and waited for her Head of Security to answer. Tara Evans was required to be on hand for all tests, in case something went wrong, but she was no more available to Delores than were the other three who were directly involved.

Then, she saw something curious and out of place. Where the two scientists had been before the pictures went out there were now lab clothes. The white tunics were simply laying in the technicians' chairs, as if left behind by the absent Hannah and Roger.

Then, Delores's eyes widened with shock as she saw ... Roger Kline??? A little person, the size of a Barbie doll -- no, a Ken doll -- was moving about in the seat of the chair where Roger had previously been. But how could this be? He was inches tall! And yet, the camera view was sufficient for Delores to see that it was in fact Hannah's right-hand man.

Delores looked to the seat in which the project's chief scientist had been sitting, but she couldn't see anyone there. But then, the clothing there twitched. And the miniature Roger was calling something out in the direction of Hannah's seat.

As she watched what came next unfold, Delores dialed another number on her cell phone. This time she got an answer. "Mister Blackwell, this is Delores Keen. I need your immediate assistance."

Delores explained what she needed to the man whose main office was only twenty minutes from the lab's location on the outskirts of the university's campus. Twenty minutes later, she would get a text from him: Site secured.

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​

Twenty minutes before the above text:

Four big black SUVs hurried up University Drive, separating to hurry to and stop outside each of the entrances of the Flogiston Laboratories building. Seconds later, six men from each vehicle had used override access keys to enter the building. Their job was to secure the building, prevent the public -- including the Authorities and the Press -- from getting inside, and collecting all employees and securing them as well.

(OOC: It wasn't explained how long our characters might have been unconscious after the incident, so let's make it 15 minutes. That means that right now, at this very time, they are all just now hearing the boots of 24 private military contractors as they enter the building to secure it and look for employees. And yes, Mister Blackwell was told to look for Barbie doll sized people.)

 

[AmyRoberts]

Becky could hear the barefoot steps approaching her at a gentle jog. She was trembling to the core from both the unexplainable situation and the nearing naked man.

He called out, "Hello, are you awake?"

"Leave me alone!" Becky called out in panic. "Don't hurt me! I didn't do anything wrong! All I did was open the door! I didn't see anything! I'm just the pizza girl! Dont hurt me!"

She pulled the fabric of her polo shirt tighter around her as tears began filling her eyes. She was so confused and had no idea what was happening to her or what might happen to her. Then, making things even worse, she heard -- and even felt through the tile -- the rapidly moving, heavy footfalls of the unseen PMCs.

Suddenly, she rose to her feet and, crouching over, began running as best as she could under the shirt above her. It seemed to take forever to escape out into the open. With her hands over her breasts, she looked back at the guy who she would soon enough learn was named Jon Gordenson. He was hidden from the waist down by the crumple up pile of clothes, but Becky knew that he was just as naked as she was.

"Don't hurt me!" she cried out again, not knowing whether or not he actually would. Becky had always been a rather fragile, frightened girl, even now as a college girl of almost 20 years of age.

She looked around in panic, found a gap between some file cabinets, and ran for it. The slap of her bare feet against the tile hurt, almost like running barefoot on cement. It only took a few seconds to reach and disappear into the gap. At the back of the file cabinets, she found another gap between them and the wall and ran down it. The floor was covered in dust and debris, and she ran through old cobwebs two, three, maybe four times.

Reaching the last cabinet, she slid to a stop, peeking out. She saw no one but could hear the heavy boot falls in adjacent rooms and halls. She panicked, trying to find her next act. Then, she noticed a punch-out hole in the base of the file cabinet that was barely large enough for her to squeeze through. She had to be careful as there were metal burrs; she cried out in pain as she cut her thigh on one of them, drawing blood along a four-inch long cut.

But she managed to get inside, and moving carefully in the dark, Becky hid between a couple of hanging files.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Moments earlier:

"We aren't in a 'Honey, I shrunk the kids' movie," Roger Kline called across to Hannah. "We're not in a movie. Still, I couldn't even begin to explain this."

Hannah didn't think of them at this very moment in time, but she would soon enough remember Roger's concerns over the project when he'd first come aboard 6 years ago. Hannah would be lying if she said she hadn't also had concerns. Oh, the teleportation process didn't disturb her. It was just a whole bunch of advanced math and quantum physics.

The thought of teleporting a living human being had been a worry for years, though. They were literally disassembling a human being in one location and reassembling them in another location. But the science had been proven. They'd begun with inanimate objects, moved on to living beings, then moved further to an intelligent being, the signing chimp, who would then communicate to them whether or not she felt harmed. Mabel had been confused about what Hannah was asking her at first as she didn't understand that she had been teleported. But months of further research with the ape had reassured Hannah that the process was safe.

"Don't peek, boss," he called from his not-so-nearby-now chair. "I'm kinda naked here."

Hannah managed a laugh, despite the situation. She presumed he was going to do something that would reveal himself. She held her blouse tighter to her body, both front and back, and half turned away, saying, "You're no fun, are you, Roger?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Roger moving about the seat of his chair. Despite his request, Hannah couldn't help but peek his direction. She'd always found Roger very attractive, and despite thinking that she only rated "cute" as a descriptor, she'd often wished she could ask him out. But she was not just a fellow employee, she was his boss, and that simply wasn't allowed.

After a moment, he asked, "How do I look?"

Hannah laughed aloud at his oversized handkerchief diaper. She told him with humor, "When you need changing, count me out!"

He began searching for a way down, telling her, "I'll try to find something for you to wear."

"I'd appreciate that," she called. Hannah tried to think of something available to her as the handkerchief had been to Roger. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway beyond the lab. She called to him, "Roger! Do you hear that?"

A tone indicated that someone was scanning their ID upon the security panel outside the Control Room, and a moment later, one, then two, then four heavily armed men in black uniforms complete with identity-hiding baklava stocking caps were all around the room.

"Roger!" Hannah cried out, knowing that he was almost to the floor and in danger of being stepped upon. Ignoring the fact that she was naked, she left the concealment of the blouse and moved to the edge of the chair, calling out, "Roger! Watch out!"

Suddenly, a pair of hands were wrapped around her, picking her up gently. The PMC said with a soft voice, as if he thought his normal voice might boom over her like thunder, "Doctor Taylor, it's okay. We're here by Delores Keen's directive."

A second male voice from nearby confirmed, "Doctor Taylor, Delores Keen sent us. You have nothing to fear. We're going to get you somewhere--"

The man, who Hannah recognized from his visit to Flogiston years earlier, went silent, then asked with surprise, "Are you naked, Doctor?" He looked to her clothes on the chair and chuckled softly, saying, "Sorry, Doc. We weren't told about this."

"Who are you?" she called out, realizing that her own voice, even as a holler, was much softer than it would have been if she were her normal size. "Why are you here?"

He began to answer, "RKI CEO Delores Keen sent us--"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard that part!" Hannah cut him off. "But why are you here? Did Keen know this was going to happen?"

The man, whose name she only just now remembered was Blackwell, was gathering up her blouse in his hands and indicating to the other PMC to place Hannah in them. As the man transferred her, Hannah did her best to hide her womanly features. As he carefully wrapped her, Blackwell said, "I don't have an answer for that, Doctor. I only know that Delores Keen called me and asked me to come here ... to secure the facility and ensure the safety of all of the employees within it."

Hannah was skeptical of the man's statement at first, even though she knew that Keen had been watching the test from London. She looked up to the wall where one of the cameras was, realizing that the CEO was probably still watching. She hollered, "Delores Keen! Call me right now! You have the number!"

Ironically, the CEO's voice came over the speakers: "Doctor Taylor, these men are here to keep you safe and to secure the laboratory. We will talk more once I am on location, but for now ... please let Mister Blackwell take care of you and your people. We will find out what has happened here, I promise you. I'll be in the air in 35 minutes and on site in less than 10 hours."

"Comfy?" Blackwell asked Hannah softly as he wrapped her now giant-sized blouse around her.

Behind him over the speakers, Delores continued, "In the meantime, Doctor, please give Mister Blackwell a full list of personnel who were on site at the time of the ... incident, please ... so that he and his people can locate one and all and ensure their safety. Thank you, Doctor."

Very unceremoniously, the communication link ended with a familiar tone. Suddenly, Hannah recalled Roger. She looked around for him but her view was mostly obscured by Blackwell's torso. Had he also been picked up? Was he still loose? Had he hidden? Would he have thought that was the best thing to do? Hannah didn't know what exactly was happening with this PMC crew, and she didn't know if it was better to be in their care or not, so she didn't call out to Roger as she had before.

 

[HumanBean]

Now:

Roger found it hard to grasp the cloth of his jacket to lower himself to the ground. He instead grasped the teeth of the zipper. It was painful a bit. But it worked. Soon, his feet were on the tile of the floor.

Hannah called out, "Roger! Do you hear that?"

He paused, listening. He did hear it, hollering up to her, "Someone's coming." He thought a moment, then asked, "That's a good thing, right?"

Suddenly, the door flew open. Men in black with their faces hidden rushed in. They were packing assault rifles. Roger initially thought they were maybe SWAT. But seeing the backside of one of them he didn't see any police department identifiers.

"Roger!" Hannah cried out, fearing for him. He looked up and found the naked woman standing at the chair's edge, hollering, "Roger! Watch out!"

He knew what her fear was, that he was going to get stepped on. He ran quickly under the chair to avoid the fast-moving boots. He looked for Hannah. His view was blocked. Then, one of the men dropped to his knees and looked directly at him, asking, "Are you Doctor Roger Kline?"

"No!" he answered. He then clarified, "I mean, yes. Sort of. I'm Roger Kline. But I'm not a doctor." He thought a moment, asking, "Who the fuck are you?"

"We're here on Delores Keen's directive," he said, repeating what his boss was telling Hannah a few feet away. A few dozen feet away, actually, considering Roger's new size. "We're here to keep you safe."

The man curled his index finger at him. "Please come out, Mister Kline. We need to get you to a safe place."

"How come you don't seem surprised?" Roger challenged the man. When the PMC didn't respond, he clarified, "You don't seem at all surprised that this has happened to us. What the fuck's going on?"

"Sorry, sir, I don't have an answer for that," the contractor said. Again, it was what his boss was telling Roger's boss. He repeated, "Please come out, sir."

Roger flinched in surprise when he heard the voice of the big boss, Delores Keen, coming from the speaker on the wall. "Doctor Taylor, these men are here to keep you safe and to secure the laboratory. We will talk more once I am on location, but for now ... please let Mister Blackwell take care of you and your people. We will find out what has happened here, I promise you. I'll be in the air in 35 minutes and on site in less than 10 hours."

Roger found it comforting that the company's CEO was already involved. At the same time, though, he questioned how much she knew about what had happened to them. No one seems fucking surprised! he thought.

Suddenly, a hand was wrapped around him. The PMC pulled Roger out from under the chair and stood tall. Roger struggled, though, he wasn't sure why. The man was holding him gently, saying, "Take it easy, Mister Kline. I'm not going to hurt you."

Delores Keen was still talking to Hannah and, presumably, Roger, too: "In the meantime, Doctor, please give Mister Blackwell a full list of personnel who were on site at the time of the ... incident, please ... so that he and his people can locate one and all and ensure their safety. Thank you, Doctor."

Roger didn't hesitate to holler to his boss, "Hannah! Don't! Don't say anything until we have a chance to talk ... in private!"

He didn't know whether or not Hannah would understand his concern. Roger had always been the skeptical type. He had a bit of conspiracy theorist in him, too. He thought Hannah should keep the list of personnel to herself until they knew a little more about what the hell was happening to them. But that was her choice. She was the boss, after all.

"Cap'n?" the PMC holding Roger said to the man named Blackwell. He was looking for instructions.

(OOC: I'm not going to write for Blackwell unless you tell me to, AmyR.)

 

[AmyRoberts]

Now:

Hannah felt absolutely silly lying in the hands of the Private Military Contractor named Blackwell, pulling and tugging at her oversized blouse to wrap herself up.. Comfy, you ask, she thought, remembering what he'd asked her. Why don't you try being 5 inches tall and naked in a room full of men.

After Delores Keen asked her to give Blackwell a list of all personnel in the laboratory at the time of the incident, Hannah heard Roger call out, "Hannah! Don't! Don't say anything until we have a chance to talk ... in private!"

She knew about Roger's skepticism and conspiracy concerns; it wasn't something he kept to himself on lunch breaks or after work when some of the staff would meet at a local college bar. She didn't share his worries, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder if his hesitance to go along with Delores Keen might be the right path at the moment.

"Trust me, Doctor," Blackwell said as he turned and headed for the door, currently being held open by yet another of the PMCs. "No one is going to harm you or any of your people."

"Where are you taking us?" she asked, realizing that they were leaving the Control Room. She looked for Roger but couldn't see him anymore than he could see her. She called out, "Roger! Are you there?"

"We're going to Clean Room 4B," Blackwell said. "Ms. Keen has asked that we keep any employee affected by ... well, whatever this is, to be kept there for their own safety ... until we know what's happened."

As they turned outside the Control Room, Hannah finally caught sight of Roger as he was carried by a second PMC. Ironically, while she was being carefully and respectfully carried in the palms of Blackwell's cupped hands, Roger was being gripped in the junior contractor's hand like some sort of track and field baton.

Another pair of PMCs emerged from the Records Room, where the paper pusher interns crunched numbers and entered data. Hannah knew the intern named Jonathan Gordenson well enough to recognize him if they were to pass each other on the street, but in all honesty, she had had no idea that he was working in Records today, let alone whether or not he, too, might have been shrunken down to pint size.

And the pizza girl, Becky Davis? Hannah didn't partake of the fast food delivered here nearly every day of the week, so she had no reason to believe that that woman was now the size of a Barbie doll either. When they reached the elevator, though, two other PMCs joined them, each carrying another shrunken employee of the lab.

"Everything's going to be okay," she promised the two. She told them where they were going, adding, "You're safe with these gentlemen. I promise."

Hannah didn't know whether to believe that or not, but what choice did she have? She was 5 fucking inches tall! Well, actually, it was closer to 5 and 3/4 inches, but did that really matter? After the elevator doors closed, she asked Blackwell, "So, how exactly did you get involved in this? I mean, the lab has its own security."

"Sure it does," Blackwell said without looking down at Hannah. He tapped his jawbone very near to the earpiece through which he was getting periodic reports and informed her, "But I'm being told that they're pretty much just GI Joe dolls at the moment ... not unlike you and Mister Kline here." He looked to her now, smiled, and said, "No disrespect intended."

////////////////////////////////
​

Over the next hour or so, 12 Flogiston employees and two contract workers would be brought into the clean room. Hannah didn't like the idea of them being placed inside clear Plexiglas work boxes, but there wasn't much she could do about it. Blackwell repeatedly explained when asked or challenged that those were his orders from Ms. Keen.

"I feel like that guinea pig we teleported last year," Hannah murmured. The PMC boss had given them several towels to line the cage, giving themselves something soft and slightly more comfortable to sit in. Each time another Shrunken was brought in, Hannah promised them that they'd be alright, telling them, "Just give it time. Answers will come."

The conversation about what had happened to them all persisted until finally a very emotionally exhausted Hannah said with a demanding tone, "Stop! Everyone ... just ... stop!" She drew and released a big breath, then continued, "We don't know what's happened to us, and we won't know until we are able to review the Black Box."

She meant the digital records that listed more than a thousand statistics related to the teleportation project's test. Reviewing them would be central to finding out what happened to them. At least, that was the hope.

"For right now," Hannah said in a calmer voice, "Let's all just sit down ... lay down and rest if you want. I hate to sound like a kindergarten teacher talking to 5-year-olds, but ... maybe a nap or some quiet time...? For now."

She called three of the Shrunken over to her who ran different operations in the building and whispered, "Tell me who was working in the building today ... quietly."

She was still considering Roger's earlier comment about not telling Blackwell who was or was not on the premises today at the time of the test. They went through the names, and with a high level of confidence, Hannah concluded that there had been 23 people in the building when the incident occurred, 24 Shrunken including herself. Of course, she didn't know about the pizza girl, which brought the likely total up to 25 Shrunken.

However, there were only 15 Shrunken here now. Where the rest were was a question of great concern for Hannah.

 

[JonathanBair]

Jon was glad and shocked by what he heard. The female voice with clear panic on it sounded like she was pleading to be left alone. The next words made his heart sink a she sounded like she was pleading with him while saying she was innocent and just the pizza girl. Then a sound that stroke fear in him, a heavy thudding, no not a, but a bunch. It had taken Jon few second to realize there was not one but a bunch of normal sized heavy footed humans coming this way.

Jon missed the pizza girl stand up, but her movement darting away pulled his attention. He knew this office from having to go into every cabinet in this building. Filing personal notes to official documents then also company documents. It was then she cried out "Don't hurt me!" Jon wanted to laugh sure he should be stronger then her as they seam to be about the same activity level, but what was he really going to do to her. For crying out loud they are both shrunk from being feet tall to inches tall.

It is then Jon noticed she was running the wrong way. To the worst place she could go. Into the gap of the "official governmental reports" and the "company reports". If she did get into one of them, and some crazy set of luck she was not found when they went looking for the paper work of the tests. They would take the cabinets with her inside to what ever location for what ever fate. Jon knew with how things screwed up they may take the hole thing to a giant car crusher thing and smash it, or throw everything in a giant shredded. Both events she would have no chance at living threw. Jon gave chase to her, as he knew he needed to find her pin her down if need be to make her listen. He was her best hope at making this out alive! If they find her who knows what they would do to her. Maybe cut her up into little bits so she can fit under a microscope. Jon was sure the powers to be would not see them as human's but more like mice or lab rats to study. Jon set off after her. It did not take long for Jon to see where she went. He knew there was a bigger hole in the back of the cabinet on the far side he could fit in with out getting cut up. Jon ditched her trail for the safer hole.

At the hole Jon calls out "I am here to help you, please do not run. I am in the same boat as you, but I know this office and I know where the snacks are. Will you allow me to help you please?"

 

[AmyRoberts]

Becky stumbled through the darkness inside the file cabinet, bumping into the hanging files on one side and the cold steel on the other. By the time she reached the cabinet's front, she was sobbing openly. She was frightened, confused, exhausted, and in great pain from the four-inch-long slice in her thigh. It wasn't as deep a cut as the amount of blood seemed to indicate actually. But the cut had been made by a dull, jagged burr of metal, and unlike a cut from a sharp blade, it hurt like hell.

She turned her back to the cabinet's corner, leaned into it, and slid down into a crouch. The steel was chilling against her back, but the pain of her leg overshadowed it. After a moment, she realized that the sound of footsteps following behind her had stopped, giving her another thing to wonder about.

Then, he said, "I am here to help you, please do not run. I am in the same boat as you, but I know this office and I know where the snacks are. Will you allow me to help you please?"

Snacks? Becky thought. What they hell are you talking about, snacks? It took a moment to realize that he was probably just trying to calm her. She looked to her leg again; she had her hand pressed to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. Her head was spinning with panic, and all she wanted was to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

But she also knew that she had to trust this man. She was naked, alone, and bleeding, and the guy outside the cabinet wasn't responsible for any of that. She screwed up her courage, calling back, "Okay. Okay, you can ... you can come in."

As she waited, Becky pulled her legs tighter to her torso and crossed her ankles to hide her womanly features. It was almost pitch black inside the cabinet, but she still felt exposed.

 

[JonathanBair]

Jon smiled little did she know he was inside with her far as he knew. Jon said "I can not see you, I need you to think of a calming song and sing it. I will fallow your voice."

In reality, Jon had no idea what to do. He doubted his name would show up on any staff listing as the company didn't even pay him for his time for crying out loud. Tho somewhere there is a document saying he was to work for college credits and government program funding his work, or something along the lines. Jon did know a bit about first aide, basic first aide from when he was a kid and went camping. but that info was taught to him like 10 years ago. Jon could only trust when he seen her cut the memories will come back. Some how he will find a way to get them out of the death trap they are in, and to his desk that was made of cheap wood. This second he was glad it was something like particle board, and not a real solid wood desk. His desk would be easy to brake into and give them 2 of 3 things they need to keep alive. Jon could only try and be strong and show he knows what he is doing if only a act. After all she is just the pizza girl and she knows he has some tie to the lab as a staff member. Jon only hopes some how he can use that to get her to trust him even tho they are about the same age. Maybe that could work in his favor as being a peer, not some old guy?

 

[HumanBean]

In the Flogiston clean room:

"Roger!" Hannah called from out front as she was being carried away. "Are you there?"

"Yes!" Roger responded. "I'm here!"

The contractors headed quickly out of the Control Room, into the elevator, and up to the clean room on the 4th floor. Roger had the same feeling his boss was having, that they were little more than guinea pigs. Or maybe maple bars, waiting to be selected for breakfast.

Roger got his shares of funny looks and laughs for his handkerchief diaper. The others had all been given a hankie or towel or other piece of cloth to wrap themselves. He did his best not to stare at some particular women. Roger had had the hots for a dozen or more Flogiston employees over his years here. Some of them were here now. Three of them here now he'd actually fucked at one time or another. It got him hard in his diaper seeing them here like this now.

There were people here from every division: security, documentation, janitorial, administration. And research, of course. That was what they called the teleportation program, without using the word teleportation, of course. Everything Flogiston did in this building was proprietary and secret, of course. But the corporation had wanted to avoid government involvement. It had foregone federal financing and kept the entire program hidden to prevent this.

Roger assumed that that was the reason private military contractors had responded and not either the police or the army. He'd been eying the men in black uniforms intently. Not a one of them wore any sort of identification. No names, no unit designations, no flags even. Just black uniforms and flak jackets. And guns. Big guns, little guns. Enough fire power to take down a police station, Roger guessed.

"Just give it time," Hannah told each of the Shrunken as they arrived. "Answers will come."

"I've been thinking about that, boss," Roger said in barely over a whisper at one point when he didn't think anyone else was paying them attention. "I have some ideas."

Roger delved into an in-depth explanation of the science as he saw it. He wasn't telling Hannah anything she didn't already know. After all, the entire teleportation project was based on her nearly two decades of research. But he was the skeptic, of course. And he was able to put a twist on the science, particularly now that they knew something that could have gone wrong had. He did his best not to sound like a lunatic as he told her his ideas on what had gone wrong.

"Whaddaya think, boss?" he finally asked. "Does any of this sound feasible?"

(OOC: I'm obviously not going deep into any "science", since how it happened isn't really the story, right?)

 

[AmyRoberts]

Documentation Department
Inside a file cabinet:

"I can not see you," the man called to Becky. "I need you to think of a calming song and sing it. I will follow your voice."

Becky considered what the man was saying. It was silly. Singing? Really? But ... maybe? She wasn't ready to do that yet. She called his direction, "Who are you? What's your name?"

If he answered, Becky would feel more comfortable. She would tell him her name. Then, needing to feel less scared, she would begin meekly singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

 

[JonathanBair]

Jon rolled his eyes at her question. She is not making this very easy. Jon says "I am Jon, I am a college student that is a intern here."

Jon hopes hearing this will make him a bit more relatable.

 

[AmyRoberts]

If you've been following along, we are abandoning this and moving onto other RP ideas.