Abigail watched the credits roll on her afternoon soap and stood up off the remote, shaking her head. She wanted to put Brooke out of her mind, but couldn't. What was the little whore up to out there in the kitchen, anyway? Probably eating again. For someone so small, she sure did a lot of snacking between meals!
Abby stood up, stretched, and turned off the television by kicking the button with a bare foot. The screen deactivated with a loud popping sound, and she straightened her hair, trying to decide what to do next. The interior of the house loomed all around her, the ceiling hanging what looked like hundreds of feet overhead. Despite the cavernous nature of the small two-bedroom split-level home, she knew it inside and out. After almost a year of entrapment here, she was familiar with every nook and cranny. She had to be, or Logan would capture her any time he wanted to.
Cautiously, she made her way across the thick carpet towards the nearer wall, then crept along it towards the kitchen. A massive reclining chair loomed and she ducked behind it, feeling more comfortable in its shadow. As the day wound down, the chances of Logan coming home grew with each passing moment. He didn't seem to have much of a regular schedule, unfortunately, so Abby always had to be alert. Here, under the recliner, there were several hiding spots within the wooden framework, places he could never reach her without taking the chair apart.
Still, she had no intention of staying here long. She continued past, along the floorboard, emerging into the light and looking across the vast expanse of carpet towards the kitchen entrance. To her right, the hallway to the front door yawned wide. She knew she would be highly vulnerable while crossing the open area. If Logan came in, he'd surely spot her at once, and getting to safety before he crossed the gap would be all but impossible. She could run, and quickly, but not fast enough to elude a giant who could cover the distance in a few massive strides.
She wanted to know what Brooke was up to, though. The crinkling sound that followed the earlier thump signaled food, probably cereal. Abby's stomach rumbled slightly at the thought, and besides, it would irritate Brooke no end if her fellow prisoner scavenged a couple of bites. In any case, eating something now would make it easier to resist Logan's tricks later on. He always put food out for his little pets--there was no way he would let them starve--but usually it was part of an elaborate trap. Last night it was a chunk of juicy steak that made Abigail's mouth water, but she also saw the net Logan tried to hide under his shirt as he reclined on the couch nearby. Neither she nor Brooke made a move for the morsel until he finally gave up and went to bed, and then it was a feeding frenzy as both tiny women tried frantically to eat as much as they could before the meat was gone.
Abby frowned as she remembered the way Brooke shoveled down the stringy steak with lightning speed. Something so tasty and wonderful was to be enjoyed and savored, even if it was cold after several hours on a plate in the middle of the floor. Not for the first time, Abigail wished she could just beat the crap out of Brooke and leave her an unconscious rag doll on the floor, but they had an uneasy truce about that. Fighting would only make them both more vulnerable to Logan's depravities, so they agreed long ago never to physically assault each other--no matter how much they might want to.
Besides, Abby thought, even if she did away with Brooke somehow, that would only make her predicament all the worse. Whenever Logan captured the slutty redhead, that gave Abigail the night off. She could meander about at will while the giant man had his way with her rival. That was the reason neither she nor Brooke ever tried to truly harm the other. With one of them out of the picture, it would only make life more difficult for the other. Sometimes, Abby wished he found more tiny women back at the disaster site, but it seemed she and Brooke were the only ones to survive the building's collapse. So far as she knew, anyway.
Abigail tensed as she prepared to enter the gap along the floor, making sure her legs were stretched out after sitting for so long in front of the television. She also checked the doll bikini she wore, making sure it was fastened tightly, wishing she had a sports bra to wear as she ran. Of course, the manufacturers didn't make such things for size 1/4 women, did they? Even if they did, Logan would never give her anything like that, preferring to keep his tiny women in skimpy outfits that were easily removed. He was such a perverted bastard!
Finally ready, Abby dashed out across the carpet and onto the tiled linoleum floor. Her bare, heavily callused feet made little slapping sounds as she hurried along, glancing occasionally at the towering front door in the distance. Ten seconds passed as she crossed the zone of vulnerability, each moment seeming an eternity, but finally she was past the danger.
As soon as she reached the kitchen, she slowed and caught her breath, knowing full well she could easily get under the refrigerator from here. That particular hiding place was dirty and dusty, but she would gladly endure such things to avoid the rude touch of Logan's probing fingers all night long.
Atop the counter far above, she could see the edge of the Frosted Flakes box poking out, so she knew immediately what Brooke was up to up there. Abby's stomach growled again and she moved towards the telephone cord, which just touched the floor as it dangled below the wall phone next to the fridge. Regrettably, the implement wouldn't work, or she would've called for help ages ago. Logan left the lines disconnected at the outside box, except on those rare occasions when he wanted to make a call, or if he got an emergency page. He wasn't stupid, unfortunately.
Idly, she wondered why Logan even allowed things like dangling phone cords to remain in place in the house. He could easily glue or nail the line to the side wall so there would be no way to get to the counter, and if he did the same thing with all the other electrical cables in his home, the two women would be limited to floor level almost exclusively. Perhaps he thought it was easier to capture them if they did some climbing occasionally, or maybe he just didn't care. Logan was such an enigma sometimes!
Abigail gripped the cord and pulled it taut, then started to climb. As she did, though, a tiny face appeared far above, framed by a cluster of curly red hair. "I was wondering how long it would take the little jackal to show up," Brooke yelled derisively down from her perch.
"I just wanted to see what was making all the racket out here," shouted Abby, continuing to climb. "How am I supposed to watch my show with you knocking things over all the time?"
The tiny woman above just laughed. "Liar," she called. "You're just trying to steal what I earned. Again!"
Abby ignored her and kept going. Shimmying up the flat plastic cord was a simple matter, and one that was much easier after many months of practice. She only took a minute or so to reach the top, avoiding the scowling Brooke as she made her way over to the open cereal box and pulled out a gigantic flake.
Abigail sat down and leaned up against the side, cracking her prize into pieces and crunching on them in satisfied silence. She could think of any of several insulting things to say to Brooke, but kept her mouth shut, enjoying the look of hatred mirrored back at her. That was reward enough, she figured.
Suddenly, an evil-looking grin crossed the redhead's face and she stood up, walking back and forth and glancing occasionally back at Abigail. What was she up to now? Abby narrowed her eyes as she nibbled off pieces of frosting and swallowed them bit by bit. She knew that look well, and it always meant something unpleasant was going on in the little tart's mind.
All at once Brooke turned and jumped up on the phone cable that hung from the wall phone nearby. She dangled there, an inch or so away from the counter, but instead of descending, she climbed, moving up until she was partially concealed by the twisted receiver cord. Abigail watched, resuming her meal and wondering what the little redhead was up to. Perhaps she'd slip and fall and break her fool neck, Abby thought with a half-hearted smile.
Brooke reached up and struggled for a moment, then managed to disconnect the curly cord from the base of the phone, letting it dangle freely from the receiver. Abby frowned, wondering what good that was. Did she expect to play a joke on Logan by unfastening the phone lines? He wouldn't like that very much, and when he got upset, it just encouraged him to hunt them down more ferociously. Abigail cringed at the thought of being made to pay for something Brooke did, and not for the first time, either.
Then, Brooke did a strange thing. She transferred herself to the receiver cord, causing it to stretch out slightly, and climbed back up to the base. From here she reached over and began to play with the connector for the phone cable itself.
Suddenly, Abigail knew what Brooke was doing. With a dismayed cry, Abby dropped the remainder of her corn flake meal and rushed towards the side of the counter. Unfortunately, she was too late, arriving just in time to see the cord drop away to land in a coil at the floor. Laughing, Brooke quickly slid downwards, causing the twisted cable to bounce about dangerously.
Abigail hesitated, wondering if her weight would cause the receiver to come loose if she jumped over there, but she never got the chance to find out. As soon as Brooke hit the floor, she ran forward, tugging on the cord, and the receiver popped free and fell to the floor with a clatter. Brooke laughed as the huge plastic object missed her by inches and bounced several feet across the kitchen. "Have fun getting down!" she shouted from the distant ground.
"You bitch!" Abby shouted, already looking around and trying to figure out a way out of her new predicament. "I wish it hit you!"
Brooke was still laughing when the telltale sound of a key in the front door lock swept over them.