title: A Wad aliases: [] tags: [FA] author: [SpeckLaz] id: [43914084] date: 星期五, 十一月 11日 2022, 11:55:24 晚上 modified: 星期六, 十一月 12日 2022, 12:12:38 凌晨
[TOC]
A Wad
Trixie seems to have suddenly become small to the world, and worst of all is that its friend Laz seems unable to tell the difference between it and a bug. But not to worry, I'm sure the gum undersole isn't too bad to become entrapped within. Although a single story, it comes with four bad ends for your enjoyment.
How it had gotten where it was didn’t matter. What did matter was the skyscraper-sized shark that had been its friend earlier. Now, he was a danger. Every movement was enough to shake the ground under its feet, its ant-sized form bouncing on the floor.
A rumble, followed by a hollow smack of the surface. Trixie covered its ears. Laz wasn’t even in the room, and his presence was still there. He was a god to it below.
“UGH, GOTTA’ CLEAN THIS SHIT UP.”
Metallic crinkling, what the sound of a bus collapsing in on itself should be like. A massive thud, and another, and another. Those THUDS gaining power. A split-second later, there he was, in all his glory. Post-work t-shirt, shorts, and Vans on. Did he wear socks? Trixie shook its head. Why was it even having those thoughts? This was a matter of life and death.
The massive skate sneakers traveled over it. Paralysis as something so big moved with no effort. Movies were wrong, as they often are. The natural gum insole with diamonds crisscrossed along the smooth and worn surface. Vulcanized rubber with a scattered, scratched texture in the color of bone rose. It would meet with a black stripe. Above that was the red fabric cliff of the shoe's canvas. Interrupted only by the black wave of a stripe of leather on the side.
The reason for the noise was soon revealed as Laz pulled a blue bin out from under the sink. The massive recycling symbol on it could’ve held a whole cul-de-sac. A landslide of beer cans dropped in. Golden Roads, delicious. A single drop would have enough alcohol in it to kill it. But it was not alcohol that was the present threat of doom. Looking back at Laz...he’s stumbling a little…he’s…drunk? Trixie had been scheming on how to get his help…but he’s drunk…how…
It fell as the ground shook. Constant. He’s trying to walk in a straight line, and that series of curves he takes always bends right back to it. On his next step, his shoe smacks right into the back of his leg, and the shark drops. It runs, a split-second’s worth of movement is enough for it to make way for the falling body. The floor doesn’t shake, it drops out from under it. The floor then bounces back up smacking it into the air, sliding in pain across the floor. A warm heat, damp, his breath, bleeds across the floor only to slip away from the suction of his inhale. Fresh, cold air in contrast, but not powerful enough to pull it into his toothy maw.
His face twists, and almost immediately, an eye larger than the micro aims at it. Wide and focused, yellow sclera, blue iris, a deep black pupil that narrows in an instant. If there was ever a moment for help, now was the time. It leaps into the air, hands waving, screaming with every inch of its small lungs, “Laz! Help me! Help! Heeeeeelp!”
“IS THAT…NO WAY…THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE…”
It exhales from its core. The long nightmare in the lonely, microscopic world is over. Waves of emotion. Relief. Rescue. Salvation.
“…THE DAMN ANT SPRAY OUTSIDE THE HOUSE DIDN’T WORK…”
Spirits shattered.
“…FUCKING SHIT…”
Laz swings his hand down, air building up in the front, rolling it across the floor. Skin slaps into the smooth ground and…it’s in one piece. A valley of fingers, white palms with black above, and it’s standing in the gorge. It realizes it needs to move before he— the hand pulls upwards as he slides up to his full height.
“…BUGS GET NO MERCY…”
The sound of air ripping apart announces the arrival of the massive sneaker. A football field is arching forward. All for Trixie. A humbling display of power. All so that its life, something of insignificance to the massive shark, will end. His face twisted in a fuming rage, something it’d never seen from him ever before. To be on the receiving end of it disturbed it to its core. His vicious exhale signals his shoe dropping. Too fast for it to comprehend, no way to even react...
…his drunk inhibitions lost control at his planted knee. The shoe drifting off course. It felt itself compressed deep into the ground. The flash of pain into permanent darkness that should have happened…didn't…it’s…alive? HOW?
The ground lifts away. Its head is free enough for it to look around. A tortured landscape of pink surrounds the tiny deer. It's stuck in the middle of a blob of gum, the gum itself stuck on the edge of his shoe's sole.
A surge of happiness! Life intact! Positive thoughts interrupted a stomach thrown up by force into its jaw as the shoe descends. The last half of the shark's step, impacting the ground and rattling like nothing ever has. It’s not sure how many of those steps it can take. A frightening realization that Laz is unaware of its predicament undersole.
Ending 1: Laz’s predator ancestry afforded him the ability to feel even minute things. In this case, the slight pull of the sticky blob of gum undersole.
He stops and lifts his shoe to observe the sole. It’s body feels like it’ll rip apart. Once again, his eyes are on it, and there’s a moment of recognition. "Laz," it soft calls, a tear sliding down its dirtied cheek, "Laz...please..."
“OH…GROSS…” he thunders, clawed fingers reaching down to
grab at the offensive mass. Darkness covers it. The sound of snaps as the world around it deforms.
“FUCKING GROSS…”
The entirety of its existence is now loosened, sitting in the palm of his hand. He towers above like the god of indifference. The world tilts. Out of control. Existence fumbles. A massive plain of white. It rushes. An impact rustles the world. Tumbling end over end, it stops with the former friend facing the ceiling. Artificial lights blazing. A circle opening conceals the outside world above. Plastic on all sides covers over the edges…a trash can.
It’s thrown away…
Ending 2: The steps are relentless and the impacts with the floor deafening. Its eardrums have blown out, everything sounds distant and wrong. The clattering of a metallic track. The air shifts from cool and dry to hot and humid. The outdoors makes itself known. The brightness is blinding after the time spent inside. Overwhelming views of a massive world around. The backyard could in its own right be a city.
As he crosses the patio, Laz steps into a flowerbed. A cloud of dust kicks up, coating the adhered micro and the gum. Its lungs reel at the intrusion of fine dirt. Trixie wonders if it can be any worse.
It can.
As his foot slides close to the bricks on the edge of the flower bed, the dust flows over. There’s a sound of debris bouncing. Imperceptible grains are bouncing off the bricks as Laz is moving. They pepper the side of his shoe, smacking into the gum and landing with hushed squelches. Several smack into Trixie like a solid rain. Working to smash it apart. There’s nothing it can do. Several more steps continue to wear down the tiny body. Battered, bruised, bleeding, and on the verge of death.
A massive movement of the shoe plunges through a field of rocks. It's the heaviest downpour of pebbles yet. Several of them zip through its fragile body, lodging themselves into the gum behind. The last thing it sees is the rough texture of brick. The casual movement of a friend sends the gum grinding into it, smearing it away.
Ending 3: The steps are relentless and the impacts with the floor deafening. Its eardrums have blown out. Everything sounds distant. Wrong. As he continues around the house, the steps feel more violent… because the gum loosening up! Oh! This may be it! Its second chance is a strip of gum failing to adhere away.
As his foot flexes to move forward the sticky surroundings dislodge. Tears form at the feeling of freedom it’s experiencing as it tumbles end-over-end. Some gum is still stuck to it, but an amount that can come off. Trixie thinks about how it'll get the shark’s attention when it’s ready to try it again. Trixie could get a—the bottom of the gum adhered to the sole smacks into it. The path of the dislodged piece not having moved enough out of the step.
It wiggles with all its strength, but it’s stuck. No. No! NO! This isn’t fair! It
was free! It was free seconds ago! It realizes its in an even more compromising position: at the mercy of being under Laz's foot as it steps. As if ready to confirm this, the shoe plunges down to the floor in the scariest moment of its life. Accelerating towards the plain it had taken it hours to cross. It's thoughts stop. Fear overwhelms Trixie so much they don't notice the warmth of wetting itself.
The impact is violence embodied. A concussive wave. Pure brutality. It can feel the weight shift. The rubber and canvas above creaking. Working their hardest not to yield to the overwhelming power of his paw within.
His paw controls all.
The micro sinks into the gum more, a product of repositioning. It mentally thanks the Universe for putting it within one of those diamonds and not on an edge. It’d have ended as a mess, or worse, ripped apart while still alive.
The shoe rises again, the wake of air creating a potent enough vacuum to rip the breath from its lungs. Reaching the peak, the descent occurs again. To the tiny's dismay, it now feels the fearful release it had on the first step. It flushes with the heat of embarrassment of having wet itself, even with no one around.
The landing has the loudness of a bomb, the vibration of an earthquake, and the winds of a hurricane. The pressure comes once again. It seems to have made Trixie its focal point It’s making an example out of it.
Pressing enough that it was on the verge of passing out, feeling its body sink in. Legs trapped. Arms corralled. Torso caressed. It encompassed it all the way down till its face found itself free. Eyes, nose, mouth, ears. The next step was nauseating, this had to have been it. It knew that it was secure enough that it could hang in this particular bad patch until the evening. When Laz takes these Vans off for the night, it can figure out a way to escape then. Heck, he may even wear his Air Force 1s tomorrow. That’d give it a whole day to fig—BOOM.
His consistency demanded respect, as did the return of the pressure.
In the darkness, the goop slid over its forehead and chin. It screamed for the final time as the gum pulsed across like some kind of living being. As it slid over its eyes, the weight pressed into the orbits, painful. The nose was next. The smell of whatever flavor this was long gone. It had was now the heady scent of moisture, grass, a hint of rubber, and Laz’s own personal scent. It took in a long breath through the nose, expecting it to be the last…but the gum never came…trapped. Completely immersed, save for those nostrils…what sick and twisted ruler of fate deci—
—the wild movements of a shoe in step returned. Experienced through the incremental wisps of air that found its way to its nose. Enough to allow an inhale, and an exhale. The landing was not as rough this time, with an entire body protected by gum. But the pressure was not in its favor, and the finality it had been expecting arrived. The smooth mixture oozed over.
Sealing it. The last breath, and the beginning of the darkness.
Ending 4: The steps are relentless and the impacts with the floor deafening. Its eardrums have blown out, everything sounds distant and wrong. The clattering of a metallic track. The air shifts from cool and dry to hot and humid. The outdoors makes itself known. The brightness is blinding after the time spent inside. Overwhelming views of a massive world around. The backyard could in its own right be a city.
As he crosses the patio, the grass of the lawn is approaching. This is not a place to end up falling off. It can’t imagine a rescue at that size. Lost under a canopy of green blades, until one day a shoe’s sole, or the bottom of a paw decides that its lived long enough. The first step onto the grass was like landing on a cloud compared to the shocks of steps on the floor. The false sense of security rips away immediately.
The grass had been yesterday. Laz keeps his place looking as nice as possible. The next step sinks in below the canopy of manicured green. Its body, along with the gooey wad, comes under attack from razor-sharp tips of grass. Slicing through it and the gum around it with little if any effort. As the foot shifts, one narrow blade finds its way into its side. It stabs through and detaches. It remains lodged as he lifts his foot forward. The motion dragging those bladed tips of natural wonder across that small body.
Reaching the peak, its bleeding out began to rob it of life. The next footfall is hardly registered in its mind. The pain of the lodged piercer was still there. The sight below is still seen: a canopy of the shortest green forest. In a moment of mercy, Laz's foot twists, and the blade stabbed through it dislodges. It saws its body apart. Some of it scatters below, for who knows what to consume it. The rest is still stuck to that wad of gum.