Chapter 13
Twisting Fate
Dan struggled against his bonds furiously until his strength was sapped and his hope dashed. The deepest feeling of abandonment and sorrow he had felt yet embraced him in the unforgiving cold darkness of the brown wicker waste bin. The horrid reality of his situation had begun to sink in; he was wrapped up in a used latex condom, discarded like a worthless byproduct of lust without a second thought. In the next room, two human beings\ sleepy, blissfully unaware of the human life they had condemned to death.
His throat was raw from shouting, body drained of strength, Dan had no energy in him to fight, only scream and pray for death.
"Okay, I need to calm down, keep my head about me. I can get out of this, Iâm not garbage. I can think this through." Dan pleaded, desperately trying to hold himself together, refusing to fall into complete meltdown. âOh what the fuck, this is hopeless! Help, somebody help me! Hello, Iâm in here, Iâm a person! Please. I don't want this anymore. I'll take it back, please I take it back, I just want to be normal againâŚ" But as Dan screamed into oblivion, there was no response but crushing silence.
"Answer me. Fucking hell someone answer me? I'm so goddamn tired of being ignored!" He felt his second wind and pushed against the smothering prison that was suffocating him. It was sticky and cold, and the latex stuck to his naked body like a sock stuck to a sheet. Still, he pushed, the pocket of air he had been allotted was slowly running out and if he didnât find a way out of this he was going to die. âGet off me!â Dan growled, clawing at the slippery latex. But his eyelids were starting to grow heavy and the sticky latex walls adhering to his face and body were making him work for every inch of progress. The fragrant concoction of sexual juices he had nearly drowned in was now foul smelling and dried all over his body, making him feel stiff, adding to his suffering.
"Rahh!" Dan put everything he had into one final bid for survival, kicking, clawing and bucking against the condom, but it was no use. He was simply too small to break it. His strength soon gave out on him as he felt the impotent sting of failure.
"Guh...." Dan sighed, his body going limp. A mix of dried bodily fluids and his own sweat stinging in his eyes, his lungs were burning as the last bits of air were starting to dissipate. âI guess this is it then. Nobodyâs gonna find me like this. This is how I die.â. Dan held himself together, the trauma of past tears shed left him nothing for this moment. But his mind drifted, spending far too much of his last few moments contemplating his cold, lonely, forgotten tomb, and the landful he would inevitably find himself.
âNo!â Dan cursed, finding reserves of fuel he hadnât previously been aware of, and with his last ounce of strength pushed against the plastic prison, he concentrated what little focus he had left on trying to unroll the condom from the inside. It shouldn't have worked, he had been struggling furiously for so long, there was no reason to believe this time would have been any different. But in his calm, focused on one spot and not flailing madly, he managed to make some headway.âWhat? Oh my god!â The rolled up condom began to unravel, releasing its deathgrip on Dan and offering him just enough slack to gasp a few more desperate lungfuls of air. âOhâŚoh my godâŚyesâŚplease, pleaseâŚâ
It was a slow and arduous task, but slowly he managed to unroll his prison, little by little, bit by bit, until the crumpled up used condom finally released him from its embrace! âAha, hahaha! Yes!â he sang, crawling and scrambling out blindly into the darkness of the wicker basket.
âGahh!â The ground below ended, and with no light to guide him, Dan tumbled blindly into the darkness, landing roughly among a pile of crumpled tissues and other refuse. Tired, worn and exhausted, he had earned his freedom and rewarded himself with a long, well deserved nap.
***
Dan awoke to the sound of running water and the distinct sound of humming. âFuck, my head.â he rubbed his temples, head in his hand and sat up.âThirsty.â he tried to moisten is dry, cottony tongue. âNeed to find something to eat.â With a groan, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and took a look around.
âYup, still in the garbage.â His surroundings were an unfamiliar wall of crumpled white tissues, various wrappers and a host of other common trash. Nothing damp enough to offer up a drink, and certainly nothing he would consider edible. That is, until he noticed a A discarded Lipton Ice Tea bottle stood out like a shining mecca of hope. From his vantage point, the bottle loomed like a colossal tower, its plastic curves twisted and gleaming in the dim light. The label, a sprawling, unreadable blur of bright yellow and green, seemed like a painted wall. Its cap was twisted tightly shut, while the sticky residue of spilled tea formed a slick, treacherous puddle at its base, just perfect for a satiating drink.
With thirst taken care of, the next order of business was finding his way out of the garbage, the last thing he wanted was to end up in the back of a garbage truck, carted further and further away from salvation. No, his survival hinged on finding a way out of here, and getting the attention of whomever it was taking a shower. He knew this was the case as the room was growing more humid by the minute, and he could hear the familiar crashing of water blended well with humming.
âGracieâŚâ Dan hoped this inspired hope brought him back to life. âI have to get out of here.â Dan climbed over the boulders of white, making it to the great barrier, the walls of the trash bin. âThatâs a long ass climb.â He looked up, the height was indeed dizzying, and he was no athlete. Next, he drew his attention to the walls themselves.
The walls of the wicker basket were made of intertwined wicker sticks woven tightly together, at his size each stick looked like trees woven together, he wouldnât have much luck breaking a hope through that. Climbing would have to do.
âNever should have canceled that gym membership,â he groaned, eyes locked on the daunting climb before him. The walls of the wicker basket loomed like a jagged, uneven cliff, each strand of woven material far too thick for his small hands to grip easily. It was grueling work, his tiny limbs straining with each pull. Fatigue was setting in, his body growing weak as it tapped into its last reserves fueled by the sugar from his morning âice teaâ. But Dan couldnât afford to slow down, his focus was fixed on Gracie. If he could just make it out of here, just get her attention, she would sympathize with his plight and get him back to Donna. That hope was the only thing pushing him forward, and his only chance of making it back to Donna at all.
Dan climbed onward, as the flowing water continued to thunder, spurring him on, encouraging him with the promise of assistance and salvation at long last. Of course, vengeance also fed his ambitious ascent. He couldnât wait to tell Donna everything about what Francine had done. How she had manipulated them all, and conspired to murder him, all for the sake of some misguided sense of âprotectionâ. Donna would be disgusted and would cut Francine out of her life
Once Gracie returned him to Donna... he would tell her everything, and he would savor the look of indignant rage on Francineâs face as it all came crumbling down
But for him to enjoy that moment, he first had to climb out of the trash bin.
So he climbed further, his arms burning. He felt dizzy and disoriented, stumbling many times but fighting to hold on. This process repeated a few times, frustrated but not defeated he pushed on, with relentless determination. Gracie would help him, she had to, he just had to get to her first. Not everyone was heartless like Francine, not everyone was a homicidal maniac. Gracie would pity him; return him to Donna, she had to, it was the only hope he had left.
âWhat if the bitch was right, how is Donna going to take all of this? Maybe I did ruin our lives. Shit, I may not even have a job to crawl back to after all this. How can I support a baby, support Donna, without work.â Dan stopped, his hesitation wasting valuable time, as he froze, plagued by the thoughts Francine had fed him, âWhat if Iâm stuck like thisâŚI canât face Donna like thisâŚnot if it's forever.â The climb continued, intrusive thoughts pressed deep down, buried for now. There would be plenty of time to think about those later.
Dan was about halfway to the top when the sound of running water stopped, now only the familiar humming echoed about the humid bathroom. A sense of urgency filled Dan and he picked up his pace. The humming was joined by the slap of bare feet against the tile floor. Grace was getting out of the shower, he could feel it with the tremor of each of her steps.
If he missed her, if she left before he had a chance to hitch a ride, there was no telling when he would see her next, if ever. "Just a little longer, stay here just a little longer, Please Gracie!" Dan pleaded as he scrambled to reach the top of the dizzyingly tall wicker basket.
"Hey, are you almost done in there? I gotta go!" A male voice called out, familiar and grating to Danâs ears. He groaned, frustration building. After everything that bastard had done to him; nearly snuffing him out in a used condom and throwing him away like trash, now he was rushing Gracie, the one person who might help him. Dan's last hope, his only window for salvation, was being overshadowed by that callous himbo!
âOh, not youâŚâ Dan picked up speed, ignoring screaming pain in his arms and legs, ignoring his own hunger, spurred on by hope, and vengeance he made impressive time, until at last heâd made it to the lip of the wicker bin and leaned over the edge to rest and catch his breath. âGâŚGracieâŚâ he tried to call out, but was winded and couldnât take a deep enough breath to save his life.
"Yea yea... early bird gets the bathroom Cid, you know that!" An unfamiliar voice broke in, it was a fair bit deeper than Gracie's but no less feminine.
âWait, thatâs notâŚâ Danâs words faltered as his gaze fell upon the figure before him. A ginger-haired goddess, wrapped in a white towel, stood like a towering sentinel. She was tall, athletic, and exuded strength with legs that spoke of endurance and arms that held a delicate yet powerful grace. Her white skin, kissed by just the slightest tan, seemed to glow, and her long, unpainted nails were kept just on the edge of elegance. She was a stunning woman, no doubt, but she was not Gracie.
âWho the fuck are you?â Danâs voice cracked with confusion and frustration.
"Aww, Give me a break Megz, I slept in." Cidâs response came with a pound on the other side of the door.
"Yeah, fucking the campus whore will get you no sympathy from me, brother dear!" Megz chimed in sarcastically, her voice dripping with disdain as she shrugged nonchalantly. She didnât bother turning fully around, continuing to pluck her eyebrows while leaning toward the foggy mirror. Her glance over her shoulder was brief and disinterested.
"Please Megan, I'm gonna piss myself." Cid laughed from the other side of the door.
"Where did your arm candy go anyhow, kick her out already?" Megan asked idly, her voice distant as she continued preening herself. Meganâs legs stretched endlessly before him, a vast and impressive expanse of human perfection. Her shapely thighs were obscured by the white towel, which ended just above her breasts. For a moment, Dan almost forgot he was trapped in a nightmare, an incredibly small, insignificant speck in her towering world.
"I dunknow, she was gone before I woke up." Cid answered simply, jiggling the doorknob a few times to remind Megan of his urgency.
"Catch her name?" Megan asked as she leaned forward and applied something to her eyes.
"I dunknow...Gloria? Gemma? I can't remember!" Laughter echoed from the other side of the door.
Dan already hated Cid, now he absolutely loathed the man. Laughing like a hyena while he was stuck here, his only path to salvation gone, overgrown with weeds and vines!
Megan laughed, sending the door a dirty look. "Fuck her and forget her? Real classy, Cid." There was a mix of amusement and annoyance in her tone, as if the comment was just another example of Cidâs predictable behavior. Danâs heart raced, both from his desperate situation and the overwhelming sense of powerlessness as he watched Megan, who was she? Was she nice? Would she help or just turn out to be another Francine? Dan didnât want to take the risk, but couldnât really see another alternative either.
"Gracie! Her name is Gracie Delmont, you ass!â Dan shouted, his voice strained and barely carrying any weight, the anger running out of him. âHe doesnât even remember her name...â His words were bitter and barely coherent as the exhaustion from his climb began to take its toll. He almost lost his grip, the wicker of the trash bin rattling as he swayed dangerously.
The sound of wet, bare feet slapping against the tile floor echoed, reverberating like thunder. Megan was approaching the trash bin, her presence growing larger with every step. Dan's vision blurred as her figure grew from a towering giant into something beyond comprehension, a force of nature that seemed to defy logic. It was hard to process the scale of her, how something so large could move with such speed and grace.
The thunderous footsteps Dan heard would have seemed ordinary to the average ear, nothing impressive, terrifying, or even particularly distinct from anyone else's. But to Dan, they were the harbingers of doom. Each step shook the very ground beneath him, sending ripples of panic through his body. His stomach churned with dread, the vibrations rattling his bones. The echoes of her movements lingered long after the next footfall, a constant reminder of the sheer scale of the giantess moving closer, closing in on him with terrifying inevitability.
Megan stopped above him, the shadow she cast cloaking the sky and blocking out the light as she loomed next to him like a mountain. Was she looking at him, was she about to throw something away? From this vantage all he could see was a long expanse of legs towering up and into the horizon.
The oblivious woman continued to hum softly to herself and dropped something into the garbage. Dan watched the crumpled up spongy ball of cotton bank off the edge of the wicker bin and tumble back to the ground.
Sheâd missed.
So, rather than leave, Megan lingered, humming quietly to herself, a sound Dan could both feel, and hear.
It wasnât until Megan crouched down that Dan finally saw her face clearly. She had sharp, striking features, with piercing green eyes that seemed to bore right through him. Her face was dotted with freckles, giving her a youthful, almost playful appearance. She was likely in her early 20s, her cute, round chin softening the sharpness of her otherwise confident expression. Despite the overwhelming fear and intimidation of her size, there was no denying that she was incredibly attractive, even from his vulnerable and disorienting perspective.
It was a point of view Dan had dreamed of often. But no amount of camera angles, trick shots, 3D generated works of art, or drawings could have prepared him for the real deal. There was a total sense of powerlessness and fear, a very primal notion that was impossible for him to swallow. She was an apex predator, and he was beneath her prey. He was the prey that her prey fed on. âGod damn sheâs big.â
âMaybe sheâs niceâŚthis is as close as Iâll come to being seenâŚmaybe I should give it a go?â Dan mused, but held back, too afraid to call out, move or even wave.
Long, slender fingers, each with nails longer than he was tall, reached out to grasp hold of the discarded makeup sponge that had missed the basket, when her emerald green eyes fell onto him by a sheer stroke of fortune, or perhaps misfortune. That had yet to be decided.
âOh shitâŚâ Dan froze, as did Megan. Neither of them made so much as a peep, until, just as Dan was about to open his mouth, a deafening cross between a scream and a gasp escaped Meganâs lips.
âAhh!â Dan covered his ears with his hands, leaning forward against the edge of the wicker basket so as not to lose his grip. Her scream was shattering, like nothing he had ever heard before.
"What the hell!?" Megan looked both terrified and appalled.
She saw him, she was actually looking at him. He couldnât deny that, her reaction was too visceral, too real. Danâs mind scrambled, trying to decide what to do next. Would she mistake him for a bug and swat at him? Crush first, ask questions later? Memories of Donna screaming and swatting at spiders or other creepy crawlers came to mind. It wouldnât take long, he likely had fractions of a second to react.
âWhatâs up?â Cid asked from the other side of the door.
Danâs eyes were fixed on Megan as intense green eyes narrowed. She didnât swat at him, she didnât reach out to crush him or flick him away. Instead she made a clicking sound with her tongue, and backed up a little. âYouâll never guess what I found creeping around the bathroom.â