Stephen grinned at his latest catch, squirming helplessly amidst his fingers. He'd looked down on Renee before, on a few rare occasions when she was inside the Estate while Len wasn't around, but never quite like this. In fact, until this moment, there had never been a time he hadn't been exactly the same size as the lovely little policewoman in his palm.
She looked spectacular, too. The white leotard did nothing but accentuate her curves, and she was quite curvaceous. Not stacked as well as Kayla, of course, or as desperately sensuous as Mary--as if that were even possible. Renee's body was lean and lithe, and the way she kept slipping out of his grip was an immediate reminder of her extensive police training. Stephen's smile widened. He was going to enjoy taming this one, that was for sure.
"Stop fighting," he said after a moment. "You're only turning me on."
"Let me go!" Renee yelled, looking more angry than desperate. "Put me down, you sick pervert!"
"Oh, pervert, is it?" replied Stephen, but he relaxed his grip, catching her by surprise so that she found herself sprawling in his palm. Yes, she did look quite luscious in that outfit, he thought at once. He was going to enjoy relieving her of it. "You should be more respectful, Renee. After all, you wouldn't want me to drop you. Or clench my fist, like this."
He suddenly closed his hand, squeezing her tightly between his fingers, but not so much to hurt her. She tried to fight but very quickly found herself unable to move. The more she fought, the tighter his grip became.
"Okay!" she yelled desperately. "I get it! I get it! You're the one in charge!"
"You're damn right I am," chuckled Stephen, opening up his hand again. She tumbled out, landing on her pert little behind and staring up at him with a glare that would've melted ice. "You know, Renee, if you play your cards right, your stay with me can be fairly pleasant. After all, you've never really done anything to piss me off. When you and Leonard came after me, you were just doing your job. I can respect that."
"Good," she replied, trying to look hopeful. "You know, you can stop all this right now, Stephen. We can probably work out some kind of deal, if you cooperate--"
"Still trying to be a cop! Oh, that's hilarious!" He laughed again, a sound that chilled her to the marrow. "You don't get it, do you? That's okay, Kayla and Mary didn't understand at first, either. Your old life is over, Renee. You're not a cop any more. You can stop thinking that way."
"You can't tell me how to think, Stephen," she replied weakly. "Can't you see how wrong this is? Why do you have to be so cruel?"
"Because I can," he told her, as if that should've been intuitively obvious. "You're right, though. I don't have to be cruel, and I won't have to, if you only do what you're told. I can make things quite enjoyable for you. Just ask Mary." He chuckled heartily at that. "She always liked it when I did this."
He brought his other hand up and reached out for her leg. Renee screamed and kicked at the approaching digit, pushing herself away. Stephen paid no attention to her protests, latching on and rubbing, squeezing her taut muscles back and forth for several seconds. "Stop it!" Renee shouted angrily. "That hurts!"
"You look so fine in that tight little outfit," remarked Stephen as he drew his fingers down, sliding the leg warmer all the way to her ankle. Now he could see her entire leg in all its well-toned glory. Slowly, almost casually, he rolled that firm, tense flesh between his fingers. Moving to the other leg, he repeated the process, as she scowled and hissed, frustrated at her inability to stop him. "Yes, very nice, Renee. You're very sleek, like a little racehorse. I bet you could beat either of the others in a run around the track. We'll have to see about that later."
She didn't answer, except to glare at him. There was nothing she could do to stop the roaming fingers as they moved about her body, poking and prodding as he studied his new toy. When Leonard did this, bless his heart, he was always kind and gentle, always taking the greatest of care with her. Stephen was rough and rude, not the least bit conscious of her feelings.
Yet it was still just the same, she thought bitterly. She was still nothing more than a pet, except now she had a different owner.
"Yes, very nice," repeated Stephen appreciatively. Renee didn't acknowledge the complement. "We're going to have a lot of fun together. In fact, why don't we get started right now?"
"Haven't you already?" she replied in frustration.
"Not really. This is just the tip of the iceberg." Stephen paused, thinking it over. "Hmm, let me think, how do I want to break you in? I do like you in that little bodysuit of yours, but it's not quite right. It's not exactly your style, is it? No, no, I've got a much better idea. You're a cop, so you should dress like one, don't you think?"
"W-what do you mean?" asked Renee worriedly. "You mean put on my work clothes?"
"No, not some stupid pants suit!" Stephen snapped, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure you've got something much more befitting of someone in your line of work. You know what I mean, Renee. Don't you?"
"N-no, I don't," she protested, but it was too late. Her face went completely pale, and that horrified expression told him exactly what he wanted to know.
"Oh, yes you do, my dear. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You wouldn't keep it down with the rest of your clothes, now would you? Oh, no, certainly not! You wouldn't want the others to know the sort of things you and Leonard do when you go up to his room every night."
Renee blushed, then just as quickly frowned. "That's none of your damn business!" she shouted. "Leave Len out of this!"
"I'm not talking about him," chuckled Stephen. "I don't give a rat's ass about that idiot down there in the cage! I'm talking about you, Renee. What sort of things do you put on, when he holds you in his hand like this? What does he like to see you take off when you dance around?"
"Shut up!" she screamed, her little face rapidly reddening. "Don't you dare--!"
"You forget, my little police girl," he said with a grin, "I can do anything I want. Let's go have a look upstairs, shall we, and see if we can find your naughty little uniform. I can't wait to see you in it. Before that, though, let's see if loverboy is awake yet. He'll probably want to watch."
In the bottom of the cage a short distance away, Leonard Oliver stirred. Sitting up, he put his hands on his forehead and groaned. His temples were pounding, but after a few moments, the dull throbbing faded away.
What happened? Where was he? He looked into the back of that car, and...
Everything came back to him in a sudden flash. The very last thing he remembered was seeing Stephen Matthews and realizing, in a flash of horrifying insight, exactly what that had to mean. Then there was a blow to his head, or...
No. Not that. He remembered now. Like a still frame from a film, he saw the scene quite clearly in his mind. Howard had the collapser in his hand, pointing it at him, and what came next was painfully obvious.
Leonard opened his eyes, which until then had been held tightly shut, as if he already knew what he would see. Nor was he mistaken. The bars of a cage rose all around him, like the inside of a prison. Through the gaps, he could see his own furniture, but it all looked distorted, seen as it was from floor level.
He knew, with a sinking heart, what had happened to him. He supposed he should've been afraid, because he'd often worried about this sort of thing, but for whatever reason he wasn't. Even the sight of the gigantic back of Stephen Matthews, standing like a human tower nearby, laughing about something only he could see, wasn't enough to make Len scared. Instead, he felt ashamed--and not because he was small, but because he'd been tricked so easily. That, and because if he'd just been truthful with Howard in the first place, all of this could've been avoided.
He looked around the inside of his home, amazed at how immense it had become. This was what Renee had to deal with all the time, he thought. No wonder she didn't like being put down on the floor. She always preferred being in his hand, or on a tabletop somewhere. Now it all made sense.
In the distance, he saw the massive figure of Howard Taylor, tied up in a chair and looking completely defeated. The unfortunate victim obviously already found out just what sort of mistake he'd made in restoring Stephen. Len could at least count on Howard as an ally, for all the good that would do now.
Curiously, Howard wasn't in the cage, but was still normal sized. Len wondered about that for a moment. From what he knew of Stephen, he shouldn't have had the slightest compunction against miniaturizing his old friend. Why hadn't he, then? Did he still need Howard for something?
He glanced back at Stephen. The giant was clearly distracted by something in his hand, high out of view. Len wondered if maybe he could get out of this cage, but when he moved towards the latch, he saw the padlock at once. Dammit, he should've used one of those! He just hadn't thought Stephen posed any sort of threat. How did that scumbag get out, anyway? How did he escape the collar?
Because I was too busy with Renee to bother, Len chided himself. I put Stephen Matthews out of my mind, and look where it's gotten me.
Not just me, he realized after a moment, spotting a female figure rolled up in a ball on the other side of the cage. She was wearing nothing but a bathing suit and seemed to be shivering. Not Renee, Len realized at once, for this one was blonde and had a lot better suntan. Mary Blaisdale.
This was the first time Len had ever seen Mary normal sized. Well, the same size as himself, anyway. He moved closer, wondering what had happened to her, and saw she was in the fetal position, eyes shut and muttering to herself. She didn't appear injured, just distraught. "Mary?" he asked supportively. "You okay?"
She looked up at him with a forlorn expression. "Do I look okay?" she exclaimed with sudden anger. "Do I fucking look okay? He's got me, Len! He's got me and there's nothing I can do! I'm trapped! I'm so--oh, God, I'm so pathetic!"
She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, but no tears came. There were none left, it seemed. Len put his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't react to his touch. "I'm sorry," he said supportively. "What did he...what happened?"
"He caught me," cried Mary weakly. "Then he...touched me...and kept on doing it until I told him where Kayla was. I couldn't stop myself. I just couldn't!"
"You can't blame yourself," Len insisted. "He tortured you--"
"It wasn't torture!" Mary hung her head in shame. "Don't you see? He didn't torture me at all! He made me...goddammit, I wanted it! I can't resist! I'm just pathetic! That's the only word for it!"
"You're not pathetic, Mary. You just can't let him control you."
"Don't you think I've tried? Even when he first took me, when I knew I'd been kidnapped, and he was doing unspeakable things to me, I just wanted more. I haven't been able to stop myself yet. Even after you put him in that cage, I--oh, God, you can't trust me, Len! You just can't! I'd do anything for what he does to me. He can make me do or say anything! Anything at all!"
"Wait, what do you mean, after--?"
Mary turned away, but before he could pursue that line of questioning any further, the giant form of Stephen suddenly moved. He was chuckling and seemed to be finished with whatever held his interest. He bent over, and his massive face suddenly appeared between the bars.
"Ah, you're awake!" chuckled the giant. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Mary was out for hours when I used that thing on her. Maybe it doesn't take as long on guys."
"Let me go, Stephen!" yelled Leonard angrily, pounding his hands futilely against the bars. For a moment he thought about drawing his gun, but he doubted it would be very effective at this size. Besides, he couldn't even feel its normally comforting presence against his chest. They must've taken it from him while he was unconscious.
"Nah, I don't think so," replied the grinning Stephen. "I like it much better when you're in there, safe and sound. Tell you what, though, I'll be happy to let you watch the fun. Your little girlfriend was just about to put on a fashion show for me."
He reached down, then, and held out his palm, and now Len saw what it was he'd been playing with up there. His heart sank somewhere very near his feet.
No, not Renee! She should've been safely hidden. How did he find her--?
Instantly Leonard lunged towards the bars, reaching out to touch her hand, but Stephen pulled his palm away. Renee seemed all right, if a bit frustrated. She still had the leotard on, although the leg warmers had been rolled down to her ankles, which only hinted at what Stephen had been doing to her. To her credit, Renee wasn't crying, and didn't appear to have been doing so. She was staying strong, but in the end, that was no real comfort.
At the sight of Len, she leaned in his direction, reaching out with a hand, but was just as unable to reach his questing fingertips. "Don't listen to him!" she screamed. "Len! Please! He's not--"
"Now, now!" barked Stephen, yanking her upwards about a foot, so she squealed and nearly lost her footing. "I thought we had an understanding!"
"You bastard!" Len screamed. "If you hurt her, I'll--!"
"You'll what? Get really mad? Oh, I'm so scared!" Stephen laughed again, the voice booming over the cage. Near Len's feet, pitiful little Mary curled into a ball, covering her ears and shaking.
"You'll pay for this, somehow," replied Len angrily. "One way or another, you're going to pay! I'll get you out of this, Renee! I swear it!"
"Oh, that's right!" cackled Stephen. "In all the excitement, I completely forgot the best part! Did he tell you, Renee? Did he tell you what he did?"
"W-what do you mean?" Renee asked worriedly. "What's he talking about, Len?"
"Why, don't you get it? This is all his fault!" Stephen threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Don't you see? Howard came here earlier today, my luscious little police girl, and told loverboy down there he had way to fix you. Guess what Leonard did, hmm? What did your paragon of honesty and virtue do then? Did he run down there and make you big again? Oh, no, definitely not! He wouldn't do that! Then he'd have to give up his doll collection!"
Renee looked horrified. "I-is that true?" she asked weakly. "Len? Did you really--you wouldn't send Howard away, would you? Just to keep me...keep me like this?"
Len hung his head. "I didn't know what you'd do," he told her honestly. "I didn't know...I couldn't lose you. I just couldn't. I love you, Renee. I didn't want to risk losing you if you got big again, and went away."
"Oh, Len..." Renee began, tiny tears rolling down her face. "That's why you asked me all those things before! If you'd just trusted me--"
"I know. Believe me, I know." He turned away, unwilling to look at her, at the woman he'd betrayed, all because of his own selfishness. "This is all my fault. All my fault."
"Damn straight it is," put in Stephen. "Yeah, that's right, go ahead and cry, both of you! Your tears are so delicious! Now let's go find that uniform of yours, my dear. Leonard here can watch from here if he wants. He can watch, and see exactly what his stupidity cost him. And you."
He stood and walked away, triumphant once again. Len turned back to the bars, desperately yelling as best he could, even though he knew she couldn't hear.
"Renee!" he called out desperately. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot," said Stephen before he got across the dining room. He turned and faced the wall, stooping over, keeping his fingers clenched tightly around Renee's tiny little waist. "Kayla! Oh, Kayla! I know you're in there!" he called out.
There was no response from the ventilation duct, not that he expected there to be. She was in there, though. He knew she was. He caught the barest glimpse of her before, when he reached down to collect Renee. She was gone now, back amidst the shadows, but he knew she'd be close by, listening.
"You might as well come out, Kayla," he said insistently. "I promise not to hurt you. If you come out now, I'll treat you nicely. I'll give you some of what Mary got earlier. You'd like that, wouldn't you? It's been a long time, but I'm sure you remember how good things were when you obeyed me."
A tiny, distant voice echoed out of the metal tunnel, just barely audible. "Fuck off, asshole," Kayla yelled. "I'd sooner rot than let you touch me again."
Stephen grinned. "Same old Kayla. Always defiant to the last! Very well, then. I'll let you think it over. In fact, I'll even make it easy. I guess you were trying to open this panel, weren't you?" He reached down with his free hand, picked up the dime Renee had dropped earlier, and jammed it into place. With an easy flick of his wrist, he began unfastening the bolt. "I'll do it for you, then. You can come on out whenever you like."
"I'm not coming out, Stephen," she hollered from somewhere deeper in. He couldn't even tell which direction the echoing voice was coming from. "I don't care what you do. You can torture the others all you want. That won't work on me, and you know it."
"Somehow, I don't doubt that," said Stephen knowingly. "You never cared about anyone but yourself, anyway. Fine. Here's the deal, then. You have thirty minutes, Kayla. That's all the time I'm giving you. If you don't come out of this vent by then, I'm going to let you rot, just like you said. I can't exactly stay here in Leonard's house, you see, so I'm going to take the others, and the collapser, and the restorer too, and we're all going to leave this place together. I'm going to drive away in Howard's car and disappear. You might last a while down there, in your empty little Estate, with the food and water that's already your size, but eventually it'll all be gone. Maybe you'll have a few weeks or months to contemplate your impending death, if you're lucky. Think about that, Kayla, while you're making your decision."
"I don't need half an hour for that," she replied, but her voice seemed much less forceful this time. Stephen waited a moment, to see if she might launch into some string of curses, or find some other way to blow off steam, but that didn't happen. Nothing but silence came out of the vent.
"Thirty minutes, Kayla," he repeated, and as he did, he finished unscrewing the grating. With a tug, he pulled it loose, leaving a gaping rectangular hole in the drywall. "Come out of there by then, or I'm leaving you to die."
Stephen tromped away, and Leonard could only watch helplessly through the bars. He wished he could do something, anything...but he couldn't. He was too damn small.
Nearby, Mary sat up, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Are you--are you going to be okay?" she asked softly.
"I think so," Len replied. "I don't know. He's right, damn him straight to Hell. This is all my fault."
"Is that really what happened?" asked Mary, looking up at him. "Did it really happen that way? You could've restored us, and didn't?"
"Yes." Len nodded slowly, shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes, that's exactly what happened. He must've been here, in the room, and seen it all. If only I'd known--but I was such a fool! I should've kept him locked away. And I shouldn't have lied to Howard. I should've trusted Renee all along, but I was only thinking of myself. Of what I wanted, not what she wanted. Oh, God, how will she ever forgive me? How can any of you ever forgive me?"
Mary looked down at the metal floor, saying nothing. A long, awkward silence followed, lasting quite some time. All they could hear was Stephen's feet pounding up the stairs, up to the bedroom where Len and Renee spent so much time together. So many wonderful hours...and now, those memories were nothing more than targets to be mocked.
"You must hate me," said Len in a quiet voice. "If it weren't for me, this would all be over now."
"I don't hate you." Mary sighed. "I think I understand, though. I shouldn't, but I do."
"What do you mean?"
"You're in love," said Mary with a shrug, as if that explained everything. "I've never been able to feel that emotion. Love has never worked for me, Leonard. It just hasn't. I've tried, but I can't feel it. Lust, sure, and desire, and all that, but never love. That's what makes this so strange. I shouldn't be able to understand what you're going through, but I do. You love her, so much that you'd do anything to keep her. Even if it meant lying to Howard Taylor so you could hold her in your hand just one more time."
Leonard turned and stared at her. Mary didn't look up, nor did her face betray any hint of emotion at all. "Mary, I..." he began.
"You and I aren't so different," she interrupted. "We really aren't. We're both slaves to our passions. Yours is Renee, and mine...mine's a bit more complicated. You and me, though, we can't control ourselves, can we? Not when it comes to what we truly want."
He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him instantly. "Let me finish," she insisted. "I need to tell you something, Len. This isn't entirely your fault. I'm as much to blame as you."
"What?" he demanded. "How did you have anything to do with it?"
"I figured it out a few minutes ago, before you woke up." Mary fixed her gaze on the cold metal floor at his feet. "I couldn't understand how he could get out of that collar of his. You made sure he couldn't have access to any tools down there. Even the television was outside the cage, beyond his reach. He didn't have anything to use as a lock pick, or crowbar, or whatever. But then I knew. Someone else would've had to bring him something, without even realizing it. Something they were carrying, or had on their person, and then forgot."
"But who would do that?" wondered Len. "Who would go anywhere near that man? What possible reason would they have to...?"
His voice trailed off, and his worried expression suddenly turned to horror as he realized exactly what she was trying to say, and what it truly meant.
"Yes, Len," Mary told him. "It was me."
Kayla glanced around the corner, watching as Stephen marched away, disappearing through the distant kitchen. The vent was gone, so she could step out of her hiding place at will. She didn't do so immediately, though. The memory of what had happened to Renee was still fresh in her mind.
Kayla moved quickly across the room to the nearby couch. She was still a bit concerned this might be little more than a trick on Stephen's part. Still, she could hear his weight creaking around on the floors upstairs. As long as she could hear that noise, she knew she was safe. He'd never be able to catch her before she could disappear once more into the ducts.
She moved somewhat closer to the cage. Mary was talking with Leonard, who seemed to be awake. Good. He could hear this, too, and back it up later, if need be.
"So that's what happened," the little wench was saying. "I couldn't control myself, even then. I had to have a man, no matter how horrible he was. So I went to Stephen. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I did. I went there...many times. Too many times. On one of those occasions, he must've found a hairpin, or something else I left behind, and that was all he needed to free himself."
Kayla frowned at the sound of those words. Why didn't she think of that before? When Mary admitted what she'd done, earlier that morning...but no, she'd been distracted by other things, and never thought it through. Dammit, Kayla thought, cursing herself for the slipup. What happened to all the complex plans, all the well thought out angles and possibilities? Yet never once had she considered that Mary might've set Stephen free, during one of her late-night escapades, and never even realize what she'd done.
"It's all right," said Len supportively, still unaware that Kayla was listening in. "You had no way of knowing. And even that is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've been there for you, so you didn't have to go to him. I thought I provided everything for you, down in the Estate. Everything except the male companionship you so obviously needed."
"I wouldn't have done that to you," insisted Mary. "I wouldn't come between you and Renee. I may not be able to feel love myself, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take it away from anybody else. If I'd asked to be your plaything, and you took me up on it, it would've destroyed your relationship with her. You know it would have, one way or another."
Len sighed and gave a slow and thoughtful nod. "Yeah," he admitted. "Yeah, you're right. She liked having me all to herself. Dammit! It's all about what we all want, isn't it? But we can't all have everything exactly the way we want it. There has to be some give and take."
"Not for Stephen," sighed Mary wearily. "He just takes. That's all he ever does. He'll just keep taking. You heard what he said to Kayla, too. She'll come out, I know she will, and he'll take her, too. Then what hope do we have?"
"He's not taking me," said Kayla, stepping into view from behind the couch, and moving cautiously closer. "I can promise you that."
They both turned in surprise, spotting her for the first time. "Kayla!" Mary called out, rushing to the bars, happy to see at least one person still free from Stephen's clutches. "Are you okay?"
"Just a bit dirty," Kayla answered, brushing absently at a few sticky cobwebs dangling from her arms.
"Sorry," put in Len, "if I thought you'd ever be wandering around in those vents, I'd have cleaned it out more often."
"No worries." Kayla put her hands on the bars. "Listen, I just want to tell you both something, before you go. It's been a wild ride, but for me, this is where it ends."
"What?" demanded Mary, realizing at once what Kayla was suggesting. "No, you can't! Come with us! Please!"
"No, I don't think so." Kayla's face was set in stone. "I'm not like you. I can't just enjoy what he does to me, like you can. Maybe that's how you live with it. Maybe that's your defense mechanism. I don't know, and I'm not about to judge you. Not any more, anyway." She sucked in a breath, and then went on, before either of the others could interrupt. "Listen, Mary, I lived for months under that man's thumb. Quite literally, in fact. He did terrible things to me, but the worst part was, he almost destroyed my mind. He would've succeeded, if you hadn't come along, and I'm grateful for that, but I'm not going back. I won't have him do that to me again. Not ever."
"Then what are you going to do?" asked Mary worriedly.
"I'm staying here." Kayla turned away, moving a few steps closer to the vent. "I'm going back down to the Estate. Once he's gone, I'm going to live in luxury for a while. Without you people around, I'll have the place all to myself."
"The supplies will run out," Len warned. "Sooner or later, they'll be gone, assuming someone doesn't come and empty out the place long before that."
"I can ration it," said Kayla, "and I have some supplies up top, some things even you don't know about, Leonard. If I move it all into the ceiling, it might last six months, if I'm really careful. Maybe a year. Remember, there's only one of me, and there's food and water down there for three people. Four, if you count the crap you fed to Stephen."
"Kayla, please!" Mary pleaded. "Just come with us! As long as you're alive, there's still hope! If you stay here, you'll have no chance at all!"
Kayla shook her head, and then asked a question that came completely out of the blue, so much so that it seemed to make no sense whatsoever. "Did you ever hear the story about the singing pig?" she inquired, smiling ever so slightly in Len's direction.
"The what?" Mary looked dumbfounded. "What about a singing pig?"
Leonard didn't say anything, but merely smiled and nodded, as if to indicate he knew exactly what Kayla meant. She simply shrugged and recited an old children's fable her parents told her long ago, in happier times, when the world wasn't nearly such a huge and dangerous place.
"There was once a servant who worked for a king," Kayla began. "One day, the poor guy screwed up something fierce, and the king ordered him executed. The servant begged, 'But sir, you can't just kill me, I know how to make pigs sing!' The king didn't believe him, of course, but the servant insisted, and said, 'Give me a year, kind sir, and I'll make that pig sing. After all, my life hangs in the balance.' After thinking about it a while, the king agreed, and locked the man up in the barn with all the livestock. Upon hearing of this, the stable hand said to the servant, 'Are you nuts? You'll never pull that off!' And the servant just smiled and answered, 'Well, a lot of things can happen in a year. The king may die, or I may die. Or who knows? Maybe the pig will sing.'"
Mary stared at Kayla as if she'd gone insane. "What on God's green earth are you talking about?" she demanded.
"Well, it's the same thing for me," said Kayla with a shrug. "I can last a year, if I'm really careful about it. In that time, who knows what might happen? Maybe you'll escape, and come back to get me. Maybe someone else will develop a collapser, and a way to reverse its effects, and I can get to them somehow. Maybe Stephen will keel over dead of a heart attack, and solve all our problems for us. Or maybe the pig will sing."
Mary shook her head in disbelief. "You're nuts, you know that? Absolutely stark raving nuts!"
"Call me what you will," said Kayla haughtily, storming off towards the ventilation duct. "but I'm through with that giant asshole and his bullshit. I'm going back into the walls until you're all safely gone. Enjoy the rest of your lives, such as they are. At least I can die with some dignity."
"Wait!" Mary called out. "Wait, come back! Please, don't leave us! Kayla!"
But she was already gone.
Kayla had no intention whatsoever of hiding in the basement until Stephen left. That would be ridiculous. Kayla Robertson didn't just give up, and if she was going to die, it wasn't going to be starving to death in some dark, abandoned house. She would go out with a blaze of glory, if it came to that.
No, she only said those things because she knew Mary would eventually spill her little guts to Stephen Matthews, probably while being "tortured" again. The little whore would last all of five minutes, if she was lucky. Just in case Stephen had any reason to doubt her tale, having Len there just made it all the better. He would surely try to cover for Mary, and that would just seal the deal, as far as Kayla was concerned.
Actually, what she had planned was far more dangerous and risky. In fact, Kayla was pretty sure she had no chance whatsoever of succeeding. Nonetheless, she had to try, because every other scenario she ran through her head was even worse. She couldn't try untying Howard, because there was no easy way to escape that room, and Stephen would surely be on the lookout for such a thing. She certainly couldn't just walk out and trust Stephen's promises to treat her nicely, either. Anything that involved him picking her up just wasn't going to happen. When Kayla said she didn't want him getting a hold of her again, that part wasn't a lie.
Her actual idea was more elaborate, and depended on a number of factors. First, she was pretty sure Stephen had no intention of leaving the Estate intact. As soon as that thirty minute time limit expired, he was going to go down there and smash the place to Hell and back. That would be him getting the last word, as he always did when he kept her as a prisoner. As soon as he destroyed everything, he'd leave her in the vents, with no hope whatsoever of survival. Who knows, maybe he even intended to come back a few days later, to give her one last chance, in the hopes of seeing her come crawling out of the walls, head hanging sadly in defeat.
Yeah, that would be just like him, wouldn't it? Well, Kayla wasn't going to give him the opportunity. She still had one ace up her sleeve. He didn't know she could escape the house through the hidden exit in the back. As soon as he started his rampage in the basement, she'd slip outside and make her way to the car. Hiding in a bumper, or whatever other place presented itself, she could follow Stephen to wherever he was headed. Then all she had to do was bide her time. Sooner or later, he'd make a mistake, and she'd take advantage of it, just as he had when he got his chance earlier in the day.
Kayla came to the next grating in line and stopped, peering out carefully, making sure she could keep an eye on the rest of the goings-on outside. From this position, she could see most of the dining room, except for the part blocked by Howard Taylor's leg. The cage was visible just beyond the passage into the living room, where Mary and Len were still imprisoned. He seemed to be fiddling with the giant padlock, but with no success so far.
Convinced she was in a good spot, Kayla sat down and started picking cobwebs off her clothes, such as they were. She regretted wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top, but didn't really have a chance to change before. At least she had something more protective on her hands and feet. Climbing up a wall without gloves or boots was always painful.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead, fighting back her fears. Her little plan had almost no chance of success, as she'd already told herself plenty of times. Too many things could go wrong. She could be spotted, she might get thrown from the car, she might not be able to get into whatever building Stephen was heading towards, and on and on. There were way too many variables. Even if she somehow made it into the house or whatever without being caught, what then? Hide in the ventilation ducts, like she was doing now? Just what sort of mistake was Stephen supposed to make, anyway? And how long would her meager supplies last?
Kayla had no idea. He would probably anticipate what she was planning, anyway. She just knew she had to try. She couldn't let Stephen win, no matter what. As long as she had her freedom, there was always a chance she still might be able to stop him.
She just didn't know how. At least not yet.
"Well, here we are," said Stephen, holding up Renee and pinching her firm little hips between his fingers. She squirmed and tried to push those massive digits away, but she might as well have been trying to knock down a wall with her bare hands. "Nice furniture," her captor went on. "The bed looks pretty comfy, not that you'd ever find out for real, seeing as how he never intended for you to ever sleep in it."
"Shut up!" Renee hissed. "Just shut up!"
Stephen laughed. "Don't you just love a good piece of irony? Just think, he wanted to keep you for himself, and now, he gets to watch me have you instead!"
"I can't believe you," she said with a scowl, trying one last time to reason with him, and saying the only thing she could think of at the moment. "Why do you have to be like this? I never did anything to you, Stephen. Even when you were wounded, I never once hurt you. I even cleaned out your wound, if you recall."
"Only because Len made you. You're absolutely right, though." He paused, considering her words for a moment. "Fine, fair enough. I can be reasonable. Let me explain how this is going to work, then. Here are my rules, Renee. They're very simple. When I tell you to do something, I want you to do it, and not bitch about it. You're my pet now, and I expect you to be obedient. Also, when I ask you a question, you're expected to answer with the truth. I won't tolerate lying. Is that clear?"
"Fine," she answered in frustration, "I'll obey your little rules, but I want something in return. I want you to leave Leonard alone. Don't hurt him, and I'll do whatever you want. As soon as you lift a finger against him, though, that's the last time I'll ever play your silly games."
He chuckled at that. "You remind me a lot of Kayla. She was always defiant, too. I took care of that eventually, though." With a smile, he set his tiny prisoner down on the edge of the nearby dresser, where she got to her feet unsteadily. "I don't have to make any deals with you, Renee. I can do whatever I like. After all, you can hardly stop me. If you don't do what I say, I can hurt you in ways you've never been hurt before. Or, if you're like Mary, I can make you beg for more. Whatever gets the job done."
"Yes, you could do that," she told him, "but that'll take a while. You'll find I have a pretty high tolerance for pain."
"I'll just bet you do." He snickered again, looking around the room, opening drawers and checking the armoire, but never quite taking his eyes off her. "It did take me a while to break poor Kayla. I expect you'd take at least that long, and once I get my hands on her, I'm going to have to go through all that again. Having to break both of you would be rather inconvenient, I suppose. Okay, then, I agree to your terms, at least for now. You obey my rules, and I'll obey yours."
"Very well, then." She nodded, but there was no trace of triumph in her expression at all. How could she be happy about agreeing to be his puppet?
"All right, first question," said Stephen, turning back to her. "Where do you keep the kinky stuff?"
"What k--" Renee began, but just as quickly halted when she saw him cross his arms and cast a baleful eye upon her. Her shoulders slumped and she pointed across the room. "That drawer there, under the T-shirts."
"Good, we're off to a great start, Renee." He pulled the drawer open, ruffled through the clothes, and emerged with a cigar box. Opening it, his eyebrows went up. "My, my, I never knew you had it in you! Officer Renee Allen, you have a real wild side, don't you! Look at some of this! Wow!"
He dumped out the contents on the dresser, and she covered her face with one hand, trying to hide her embarrassment. In the pile were various erotic costumes, latex fetish gear, bondage and domination paraphernalia, and more than just a few sex toys. All of it was, of course, miniaturized to her proportions.
Stephen poked around in the scattered clothing and other accoutrements, giggling to himself at some of what he was seeing. "Aha, I knew it!" he exclaimed after a moment. "Officer Renee, have you come to arrest me?"
He shoved an extremely skimpy policewoman's outfit across the table at her. The costume had the classic hat and vest uniform, but that was where its resemblance to actual police attire ended. The rest consisted of zippered black hot pants, lace-up thigh boots, elbow-length gloves, and an oversized utility belt with gleaming metal handcuffs dangling from the side. Renee shut her eyes and turned away, wishing she could shrink still further, enough to disappear right into the wood grain under her feet.
She remembered the first time Len presented her with this particular outfit. At first she was insulted, and more than a little angry that he'd demean her profession with such a trashy thing. He spent that night alone, as she recalled, while she sulked in bed downstairs in the Estate. The more she thought about it, though, the more she regretted her reaction. He was only trying to have some fun, that was all. He didn't mean anything by it. Besides which, he was right about one thing--she did need to lighten up.
So that night, she pretended to still be angry, and when she got a chance, she slipped away and put the uniform on. Things went much better after that. A whole lot better, in fact. The rest of the costumes followed soon after, and the other gear as well. There was nothing wrong with a little role-playing and experimentation between two consenting adults, after all. Nothing whatsoever.
Not until now, anyway. Now she wished they'd never done those things. Here was the evidence, strewn about the dresser...and the only thing more humiliating about it was what she knew he was about to do.
"Okay, then," said Stephen with a grin, "since you like playing dress-up, why don't you put this on for me?"
"Kayla."
The whispered voice came from far above. She looked out through the grating, up at the distant face of Howard Taylor. He had twisted his neck around so he could see behind his back, over his shoulder, although how he saw anything through those thick glasses, she had no idea. Somehow, he'd seen her take her seat behind the vent, or maybe he just hoped that's where she was. Not that it mattered, anyway.
She considered just ignoring him, but he'd probably just talk louder. Besides which, she could always tell him the same thing she'd told the others, and that would be one more person to collaborate Mary's story later on.
So, getting to her feet, Kayla poked her head into the opening and stared up at him in frustration. "What?" she yelled irately. "What the hell do you want? If you hadn't been such a moron, none of this would've happened."
"I know." Howard sighed, keeping his voice down. "Believe me, Kayla, I know. I just thought I should tell you, I'm happy you're still alive. Stephen told me you were dead, and...well, that hurt a lot. I thought I'd failed you, after all that time."
"You did fail me, dumbass," insisted Kayla. "You said you'd restore me, and do I look normal sized to you?"
He shook his head, stretching his neck a couple of times to work the kinks out before gazing down at her again. Amazingly, with everything else that was going on, he managed to force a smile across his pudgy face. "I've missed that attitude of yours. I'm glad you're still the same old Kayla. I wouldn't change that for the world."
"Yeah, well, I hate to bust up your little reunion cheer, but in case you didn't notice, you're all tied up and the rest of us are prisoners."
"I know, I know. That's what I need to tell you, Kayla. I need you to do something for me, before you run off to do whatever else it is you're planning."
"Planning? Why, whatever do you mean?"
"You know you're up to something, Kayla. Even from here, I can see it on your face. Back when I had you under glass, I could always tell what you were thinking. It's okay, though. I won't tell anyone."
"I really don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, folding her arms across her chest. "Believe whatever you want. Anyway, what is it you want me to do?"
"Set the others free," said Howard urgently. "Get them out of that cage. I don't care how you do it, Kayla, just get them out any way you can."
She frowned and cocked her head sideways. "Okay, fine, let's say I pull that off, somehow. Let's imagine I can magically pick that lock or rip those bars open with my bare hands. What then? Get the others into the vent with me? Then what?"
"I don't care," Howard insisted. "Now, quick, hide yourself! He's coming back downstairs!"
Kayla instantly retreated into the darkness, just as Stephen's footsteps tromped down from the second floor. He was carrying a cigar box under his arm and Renee in his other hand, keeping her carefully hidden from view. There was also a huge smile plastered on his face.
"Okay, everyone, gather round!" he called out. "I know you're all really eager to get going, but before we leave, I've got something to show you. May I present, live from Leonard's floor, Officer Renee Allen!"
He stooped over, set the cigar box down, and placed Renee on top of it. She was wearing the policewoman's fantasy costume, and didn't look happy about that at all.
"There we go," said Stephen, clapping his hands together twice. "Now show us what you've got, Renee. Sorry I couldn't arrange for any music, so you'll just have to do your best without it. Go ahead, Officer Allen. Dance for us!"
Renee sighed and lifted a gloved hand, tilting back her hat, wishing for all the world she was anywhere but here, and that Leonard couldn't see. For an instant, she glanced at the nearby cage, where he was watching in mute horror, unable to turn away.
"This is for you, Len," she whispered silently. "I love you...and I forgive you."
And then she danced.
Kayla watched Renee's little show with a sad shake of her head. Already she was lost, the tiny brunette thought. What did Stephen do to her up there, besides make her put on that ridiculous costume? Did he play with her like he did to Mary, or did he torture her in some as yet unknown way? And where did he get that outfit, anyway?
A moment's thought brought her the answer. Well, of course they would have their own secret cache of private things, Kayla told herself. After all, Howard had his own preferences when he kept her prisoner. The boots, for example. Howard always liked boots. Apparently Leonard was into costumes, and somehow she doubted Renee minded all that much. The best fantasies were those that could be shared together.
So Stephen figured all that out, and now, he'd found the way to control Renee--through humiliation. No doubt he threatened her, or more than likely threatened Len. She'd do anything to keep him safe, and naturally, he'd do the same for her. That meant they were both done for. He already controlled them, just as easily as he controlled poor, pitiful little Mary.
Kayla frowned and moved away, heading back in the general direction of the open vent. The less she saw of this, the better. Renee was already slowly stripping off what there was of the policewoman costume, probably doing the same sort of tease she used when things were a bit more private. Damn that Stephen, anyway! He was relentless, utterly relentless.
Kayla knew she couldn't let him get his hands on her again. She just couldn't. She wouldn't be able to stand it. Not again. Not those fingers...or those tools. Those damnable tools of his, that brought such pleasure and such pain.
Something had to be done about this. Someone had to stop him. Nobody as callous and brutal and cruel as him should ever go unpunished. But how was she, a four-inch-high fugitive, stuck inside the walls, supposed to do anything?
Suddenly, Kayla stopped walking. Her footsteps echoed in the distance, then slowly stopped, leaving her in silence. All at once her eyes perked up and a smile began to cross her face.
She wasn't going to stop Stephen at all. She didn't have the power, not as small as she was now. But she didn't have to do it, now did she? There was someone else who would, if only she could lend a helping hand.
Gritting her teeth, she hurried back to the open vent, a rush of renewed determination sweeping through her little body.
On the cigar case, Renee slowly twirled, gracefully swaying to and fro to music only she could hear. With one hand, she peeled off one of the gloves, tossing it dismissively over her back, where it joined the uniform top, policeman's hat and the oversized belt. Her eyes were closed as she moved, thinking only of Leonard, as if only he could see her now.
Stephen was kneeling, watching her eagerly, enjoying the show. She didn't even care. He wasn't real to her. The only one who mattered was Len. This was all for him.
Yes, Leonard hesitated when Howard returned with the means to restore her to normal, but Renee understood now why he'd done it. They were partners at the station for quite some time before the accident that left her tiny. Before that, she'd been unapproachable. He told her as much, after the fact. They could've been together long before this, if only work hadn't interfered. So of course it was natural to think that if things went back to the way they were before, she might very well drift away from him.
Silly man, she thought to herself. As if she could ever forget how wonderful he was. How much she enjoyed being with him. All the things they did as man and pet, they could do as man and wife.
Renee knew she wanted to marry Leonard Oliver. She was as certain of that as she was of anything else she'd ever known. To think of such a thing now, even as she danced her way seductively out of her shorts, struck her as incredibly out of place. Yet that's exactly what went through her mind at that particular moment. That was the only thing she could think about.
Somehow, some way, she would marry him, if she had to hit him over the head and drag him down the aisle to make it happen. That was how he was going to pay for his little mistake.
Now if only there was some way out of this...
She kept on dancing, oblivious to Stephan's whistles and catcalls. Without hesitation, she removed the quick-release clasp on the push-up bra and tossed the undergarment aside, drawing a round of applause from her giant audience. "Very nice!" he called out, obviously pleased at the way she hadn't needed any further persuasion to expose herself. "I didn't think you'd go through with it, Renee. Good job!"
She stopped her gyrating and hung her head. "Thank you, master," she said deliberately, adding the title entirely for Leonard's benefit. The effect was immediate, and not at all unexpected.
"You bastard!" screamed Len, charging at the bars nearby, pounding and shaking them with his fists. "You sick freak! How dare you do that to her! I swear to God, Stephen Matthews, you're going to pay for that!"
"Don't," Renee called out, already recovering her discarded clothing as quickly as she could. "Don't, Len. I know you're angry, but...just don't antagonize him. Please. You don't know what he's capable of."
"Oh, but he does," chuckled Stephen. "He does indeed. Thank you, Renee, for doing as I asked. You see, all of you, if you just cooperate, I can be a reasonable man. Mary knows that, don't you, Mary?"
Inside the cage, Mary nodded slowly, her face a wooden mask. She had seen the entire display from Renee, but what was going through her head, no one could tell.
"Now," said Stephen coldly, "it's time for your reward, my lovely little police girl. Come here and let me give it to you."
Her face went white with horror, but before she could react, Stephen's hand came down and swept her into the air. She hadn't managed to put on anything but the bra, so the rest of her clothes went flying.
"Don't fight me, Renee," said Stephen, his foul breath sweeping over her like a putrid cloud. "You don't need to struggle. You earned this, after all, for being such a good little doll. Now hold still. I'll show you some of the things Mary likes so much. That's right, just roll over and relax. You like that, don't you? And some of this right here..."
She closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do, except imagine those were Leonard's hands. Leonard...yes, Len, right there...just like that. Just like that...
Somewhere down below, Leonard Oliver turned away, tears running down his face, sinking to the floor with head buried in his hands.
A short distance away, halfway across the floor of the cage, Mary Blaisdale didn't turn away. She watched, horrified, unable to even blink as she saw Stephen slowly rape her friend.
Rape. That's what it was she was seeing. That's what Stephen was doing, right now, if not by the purest definition of the term, at least as close as possible at their scale. Renee's eyes were shut, and she wasn't even fighting. In fact, she was simply lying there, jaw set in a firm line, clearly affected by what was happening to her but unwilling to let it show on her face.
She may not have been struggling or fighting, Mary realized, but Renee was definitely resisting. He could play with her like a toy, but she wasn't going to give him the slightest bit of satisfaction.
Stephen didn't seem to mind. He was relentless, probing and searching with his fingers, and despite her efforts Renee was incapable of remaining still when he found a vulnerable spot. Soon he was working on those, one after the other, until poor Renee began to lose control. Mary continued to watch, unable to stop, until the tiny woman finally stiffened, gasping, and gave a weak and desperate little cry.
"There," said Stephen with a smile. "Your reward for a job well done."
Mary tore her eyes away. She felt sick and dead inside. All she could think about was how, during that entire display, she'd wished it was her up there.
Renee wasn't like her. Renee didn't enjoy that kind of treatment, not one bit. The only reason she succumbed, the only reason she even did that sexy dance, was because of Len.
Mary looked over at the far corner of the cage, where he was seated on the ground, knees pulled up to his forehead, sobbing noticeably. Seeing a grown man cry left her feeling numb. Len loved Renee, and had to watch her brutalized. And she loved him so much, she did what she had to do to protect him.
Love. Mary shook her head. That's what love is, she realized suddenly. To be willing to sacrifice yourself for someone else. To care about them more than you care about yourself. That was something she'd never been able to do, never been able to comprehend. Something she'd always avoided in her life. Something she always rejected, always pushed away, always fled from...
Something she always secretly wished she had.
Suddenly, she knew. In that moment, standing on that cold and lonely metal floor, looking up through the bars at Renee's shivering form, Mary understood exactly why she was the way she was. Why she always gave into her urges, and avoided relationships, and fled to Las Vegas whenever she needed a man.
She was afraid to love.
That's what it all boiled down to. In a nutshell, Mary Blaisdale was scared to death of love. She couldn't stand the idea of feeling like Leonard did now, or like Renee surely did, in Stephen's hand high above. That desperate and terrible feeling that came with caring for somebody else. Mary had always avoided that awful curse, unwilling to risk the dangers and pitfalls that came along with it.
She knew, then, what she had to do. Watching Renee up there, accepting her fate but never giving up, even in the throes of passion, was like a light switch coming on inside her head. All at once, Mary came to a decision. She would escape from Stephen, perhaps not physically, but at the very least mentally. She would find a way to resist him, the only way she could.
For the first time in her life, she would learn to care.
"Now," said the smiling Stephen, "I think we're done here. You've been a very good little girl, Renee, so I'll let you see your boyfriend now."
He set her down on the cigar case, and while he momentarily fumbled with the key to the padlock, she quickly gathered up the rest of her clothes. By the time he had the cage door open, she was completely dressed again, except for the oversized hat, which she ignored entirely.
"In you go," said Stephen, poking at her behind with a finger. "Go on, I know you just can't wait to be reunited. This should be fun to watch."
She stepped down into the thick carpet and made her way up to the cage. Leonard didn't wait. The instant she came near, he rushed out, taking her in his arms with something akin to desperation. They kissed and hugged each other for almost three full seconds before Stephen rolled his eyes and poked again. "Okay, that's plenty," he scolded. "Now get in there before I have to get too rough."
They didn't separate, continuing to cling to each other, but nonetheless they obeyed, backing in slowly. When they were just inside the door, Stephen started to shut the little gate, and then he stopped. His head whipped around as he caught sight of something running across the floor, a tiny figure that disappeared swiftly into the shadows under the couch.
There was no mistaking who it was. Above them all, Stephen Matthews smiled and stood, clapping his hands together gleefully.
"Kayla Robertson," he chuckled to himself. "About time you show up!"
Immediately Stephen sprang into action, but not to rush to the couch, where Kayla hid herself just moments before. Instead, he hurried directly to the open vent, picked up the loose grating, and slammed it into place. Keeping a wary eye on the sofa, he screwed in the retaining bolt by hand for a few seconds, just enough to make sure she couldn't open it easily. Only then did he pursue his prey.
"Kayla," he said sternly, "you know you shouldn't hide from me. I told you if you came out, I wouldn't hurt you. Now step out from under there and I'll honor my promise, at least for now."
"Not happening," her tiny voice piped from somewhere in the shadows. "Why don't you come get me?"
"You're going to make me very upset in a minute," said Stephen, scowling. He leaned down and peered into the darkness under the sofa. Its bottom edge had perhaps an inch of clearance, but beyond that, the space was much more open. For a moment he caught sight of a tiny figure in the shadows, and then she vanished from view, climbing through a tear in the fabric lining into the array of springs above her head.
"All right," said Stephen, grabbing hold of the couch and tilting it forward, away from the wall, "I guess we're going to do this hard way."
"We should help her somehow," said Mary urgently. "Isn't there something we can do? He'll catch her for sure!"
"Why did she even come out?" wondered Leonard. "She said she was going to hide downstairs, until we were gone. Oh, wait, now I see what she was planning."
"Yeah," Mary replied with a nod. "She knew I'd tell him. She knew I wouldn't be able to stop from telling. Smart move, too, because she was right."
"Don't beat yourself up," said Renee supportively. "I understand a lot more now, after what he just did to me. He's very good at what he does, in a sick and twisted sort of way. Not like you, Len. Not at all. But I can still see how he could crush someone's will, if he put his mind to it."
"Forget about that," insisted Mary, still focused on Stephen's desperate attempts to force his hand in among the couch springs and drag Kayla out of her hiding place. "What about Kayla? He's going to find her in there eventually." She clutched at the bars, still unable to see Kayla anywhere, but Stephen seemed to have a pretty good idea. He kept stabbing out with his hands, cursing all the while. Mary frowned anxiously. "We should do something, even if it's hopeless, just to buy Kayla some time."
"If only Howard could help," said Leonard, pointing at the giant just visible across the distant dining room floor. He wasn't listless any more. Instead, he had his head perked up and was watching the action quite attentively. "Maybe we could untie him?"
"I doubt it," Mary replied. "At this point, though, I'd try anyth--"
"Howard!" gasped Renee, interrupting Mary's words. "That's it!"
"What?" the others demanded. "What about him?"
"He was trying to tell me something," Renee said urgently. "Before. When I was on the table. He said I had to let myself get spotted. I don't know why, but that's what he wanted me to do. Now I know why--he was trying to get me to distract Stephen for some reason."
Len snapped his fingers, as suddenly everything became crystal clear. "That's what Kayla's doing!" he exclaimed. "She's creating a distraction, so we can get out of here! See? He didn't get a chance to put the padlock back on. Quick, everybody, help me with this door. When I get it open, run for the walls!"
"Which walls?" wondered Mary, even as she helped him lift the gate up over his head. "Where are we going?"
"Just scatter! Go anywhere! It doesn't make any difference--just run as fast as you can! After that, it's all up to Howard!"
Stephen cursed and swore as he jabbed at the little figure of Kayla, who was jammed neatly up underneath the collection of metal springs that lined the bottom of the sofa. He tried shaking her out, but she just hung on with both arms, and when he reached his fingers through, she just scampered away.
"Come out of there, Kayla," he hissed angrily. "You know this can only end one way. You'll get tired long before I will."
"Not a chance," she laughed. "I'm having too much fun! Seeing you frustrated is more than worth anything you're going to do to me."
"If you're trying to make me angry, you're succeeding." He clenched his teeth and tried to jam his hand farther in between two springs, only to find himself with a nasty cut for his trouble. Once again he shook the couch, more violently this time, and she almost slipped and fell. Even as he grabbed at her flailing body, she backed off just in time.
"You're going to make a mistake soon," he warned, absently wiping a bloody finger off on his pants leg. "Just make it easy on yourself and come out of there."
She glowered at him. "Make me!"
"I could go and find something," he pointed out. "Something painful, like tweezers, or maybe pliers. Is that what you want? If you make me do that, it won't be pleasant."
"Sure," she chuckled. "You run off to the garage and find some tools. I promise, I'll be right here when you get back."
He started to snap off an angry reply, but just as quickly hesitated. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? That's what you're after, isn't it? You want me to leave." Pausing, he scratched at his chin for a second. "No, that's not it at all. You wouldn't do this without a good reason...aha!"
He turned back towards the cage, just in time to see three tiny figures dashing out the open gate, moving out across the carpet as fast as their little legs would carry them.
Leonard hated leaving Renee, but at the last second, he told her to head for the entertainment center, where he was sure she could lose herself among the cables and wires underneath the shelves. That would buy her some time, at least. Meanwhile, he was going to get that grating open and disappear inside the walls. From there, he hoped to find a way around the back of the television, and link up with Renee. After that...well, he had no idea. He hadn't thought that far ahead.
Actually, he had no idea what he was doing. He was only running because he couldn't think of anything else to do. That, in and of itself, was threatening to drive him crazy. Len didn't like not being able to take charge, and he certainly didn't like being at the mercy of some gigantic psycho. Even worse than that, though, was the fact that he was helpless to stop whatever Stephen wanted to do to Renee.
This was his fault...he couldn't get that out of his mind, either. He wanted so very desperately to make this right. But how? He couldn't do a damned thing from way down here.
He reached the grating, and was just about to start working on the bolt when a massive foot crashed down next to him. From high above, a deep voice pounded down at him, and a hand filled the sky.
"Gotcha!" said Stephen. "Now, who's next?"
Renee found the going slow, much slower than she would've liked. The thick carpet kept catching on her boots, so she was always just a misstep away from planting her face on the ground. Still, she hurried along as best she could, not looking back, afraid of what she might see.
Leonard's massive entertainment center loomed in the distance. Two speakers flanked a towering cabinet that held a stereo, DVD player, cable box, and even an ancient VCR that wasn't even plugged in any more. The widescreen TV hung overhead, reminding her of nothing less than a drive-in movie screen.
She'd watch that TV, sometimes, with Len, while he held her in his hand. Sometimes she fell asleep in his palm, awakening in her little bed downstairs the next morning, with no idea how she got there. She was going to miss those quiet times with him. At least they were the same size now. As much as living under the terrible rule of Stephen Matthews was going to be miserable, at least he'd be there to keep her company.
Maybe, she told herself, if she got underneath the TV, she could hide there long enough for Howard to do whatever he had in mind. Maybe he had some kind of reverse collapser and would suddenly grow to ten times his size, tearing free of his bonds and grabbing Stephen like he'd grabbed her. That would be hilarious, she thought, quickening her pace. The gap between the right-hand speaker and the cabinet was just ahead. If she could just get there--
Suddenly, a massive hand dropped down, cutting off her escape. She tried to stop, but her boots caught in the tangled shag and she tumbled to her knees. An instant later, Stephen swept her up into the sky.
"All right, Mary," called out Stephen with a laugh. "Your turn next."
Unable to think of anything else to do, Mary ran towards the kitchen. Of all the possible hiding places, that one was farthest away from where the cage, but there was one good thing about it--the floor was tiled, and not covered in the damnably clingy carpet.
She raced along, wishing she'd worn shoes or boots or any kind of footwear at all. The thick fibers tickled and scratched her feet, making the going a whole lot slower than she liked. Somewhere behind her, Stephen was stomping around, moving swiftly. She risked a glance back, and saw him sweep someone off the floor to her left. He didn't come towards her this time, so she ran all the harder.
As she neared the kitchen, she looked back over her shoulder, in time to see Renee get nabbed. Now the giant form of Stephen turned her way. She was out of time.
With a burst of speed, she dashed behind the small end table that occupied the corner just before the kitchen entrance. She made it just in time. An open hand landed just behind her, lunging into the gap where she'd just been. Mary pushed herself against the wall, breathing heavily, just out of reach of those questing fingers.
"All right, Mary," said Stephen from above. "Come out of there right now. I don't want to have to start throwing furniture around."
Mary didn't reply. The longer she stayed here, the more time she bought for Kayla.
"Okay, then," he said with a smile, "let's try this. If you come out now, I'll make it worth your while. You know what I mean, don't you?"
"Yes," she yelled with a whole lot more conviction than she felt, "but I'm not coming out, Stephen. I'm not going to be your slave any more."
"Okay, fine," he replied angrily, "we'll do this the hard way, then."
Suddenly his hand lurched forward, as he shoved his arm as far back as he could. Before she could dodge, the fingers found her, latching on despite her struggles. In an instant she was pulled out into the light, where she joined the cowering Renee and Leonard in Stephen's left hand.
He wagged his finger at her. "You should've come when I called, Mary," he told her. "Now you'll have to be punished. As soon as I get my hands on Kayla, that is. For now, though, it's back into the cage with you."
He turned back towards the living room, but before he could take even one step, a booming voice rang out. The sheer strength and urgency of that shout made him freeze in place, and Stephen, along with everyone else, turned in surprise to look at the man who spoke those unexpected words.
"STEPHEN!" roared Howard Taylor from his chair. "THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH!"