Redundant Phoenix - Part 03 (Patreon)

Dropping to my knees I reach out towards the unconscious woman. Instinct taking over as I reach for her right arm, gently searching for her pulse by pressing against her humerus. After a moment, the gentle rhythm slips through the cotton material. While counting the beats, looking down at the tiny woman, my lips coil upwards. “Like a little Baby…” I whisper to myself. 

The room feels cooler, dimmer. Glancing about the cavernous space, a weight pulls my grin down to a frown. “Well… now what. I can't just leave her here…”

Arching my eyebrow, my imagination runs wild. I could imagine the look on her face, waking up in the middle of a massive darkened lab, too little to reach the door handles, the only phone left mounted to the wall by the door. Well out of reach…

Sighing, I slip my hands under Jenna’s slumbering form. “Better not, don’t want to go to prison…” I whisper, marvelling at my miniature quarry. Jenna’s body is impossibly light, slender legs dangling in space as I stand. A gentle pulling sensation tickling my palms; Jenna’s body was still dwindling. Her low-cut blouse and skirt contracting against my skin. Returning to my box with Jenna cradled in one arm, I position her carefully within its confines. The shrunken woman reduced to a souvenir from the worst day of my professional life.

“Well, better than a pink slip or a gift card at any rate.”  Lifting the box and moving towards the door, I pause. Jenna’s discarded tape measure stood on one of the workstations, and just beneath the tape measure’s case was a familiar red badge, the Bright Quay Global logo peeking out from the black rubber grip. Resting the box on the edge of the counter I carefully pull an old swag pen from beside my slumbering prize. Hooking the grip of the tape measure I pull it over, the rubber grip deadening the fall. ‘I wonder what it sounded like to her…’ I muse, scanning little Jenna for any signs of waking. ‘Can’t dawdle, no telling when she’ll come to.’

Picking up the badge and turning it over in my hand, I crack a crooked grin. Jenna looked as smug as normal even in a banal ID photo. Her arrogance on full display, her entitlement, slicing through the plastic cover of the badge from her little limey mouth. 

Chuckling, I slip the badge into the box. Wedging it against a pen beside Jenna’s head, I make sure she’ll be staring right into her own face when she wakes up. Humming a tune, I pass through the building. Ignoring all my traitorous ex colleagues and moving as quickly as I can through the halls of the building. 

Even Warren, the security guard, kept his distance, following along far behind me as I entered a short stairwell and moved into the car park. Beside a pillar I see the contours of my car’s hood, the sound of my shoes echoing in the nearly empty Project Lead garage. My face breaks, grinning maniacally as energy wells up deep inside me. Coiling and spinning around my spine, I give in. Twirling in a circle and lifting my prize over my head without breaking my cadence. Lowering the box, I spy Jenna’s tiny arms shifting in the container. 

‘Too late now, little runt…’ I giggle to myself as my pace quickens. She exhales, mumbling something unintelligible. My imagination running wild as I consider her perspective. Vision returning, staring into her own face, wondering where she is… ‘She’s going to freak when I grab my keys!’ 

A small hand slams onto the edge of the box; contents shifted as a nylon clad leg thrashed about. My coffee cup tipped over, pressing down into her shoulder. Sneering down at her, I watch her tiny brow furrow, skin turning nearly translucent as her eyes grow. Her jaw falls open; I can practically count her breaths as her still impressive chest heaves and falls. 

“Careful honey, don’t hyperventilate now.” Reaching down into the box, between her delicate little legs I fetch my keys. “At your size I’m not quite sure how you’re breathing even works.”