My turbulent fall slowly begins to steady out, my face pointing towards one of the distant flickering motes of light as it begins to draw closer and closer. Soon it looms large before me, consuming my vision as I'm forced to shield my eyes from the searing and painful luminescence.
As
I touch the surface I feel some sense of resistance, a fleeting moment
where the outer surface seems to try to protect itself from me only to
eventually lose out to the force behind me fall.
Suddenly I'm consumed in darkness, my heart racing as I drip with cold sweat. My eyes snap open as I rouse from my sleep, my gaze whipping around in terror. With a sharp gasp I find myself in a small open plan office, a frosted glass wall overlooking some area below, my diminutive body laying on a sofa and surrounded by various boxes and labels.
Despite the low light filling the room, the only illumination coming through the frosted glass and the space beyond, I can clearly make up the long strands of copper orange hair clinging to my sweaty face. I cough and splutter as I try to shift it from my lips, only to have something tumble from the bridge of my nose as the room suddenly shifts to blobs of indistinct blurs.
Instinctively I reach for the floor, rolling partway off the pale beige sofa to paw at the ground. A yelp escapes my lips, my voice squeaky and high pitched, as I feel my hair pull beneath me and my chest squish uncomfortably into the firm cushions.
Suddenly, the room fills with light with the sound of a small click. I squeal in shock, whipping around to look for the source of the noise despite my failing vision. I watch as someone moves at the other end of the room, tall figure wearing something long and brown before they seem to remove it. Black hair sits atop their head, with large swathes of it having grayed, the individual slowly hanging up the brown piece of clothing on a hook before turning towards me with and jumping slightly with a start.
"Oh my, Ms Hughes. I didn't think you would be in..." the older man chuckles, seemingly trying to calm down from the fright. He pauses for a moment, his looming figure approaching my seat turned bed as I begin to shuffle back and against the arm rest.
As he draws near he steps over some of the boxes, pausing and looking at each of them before bending down with a groan as he reaches for something on the ground. As the man stands back up he holds his back, huffing slightly as something twinges in his lower back before he holds out something for me.
"Ms Hughes... Did you stay here all night?" he asks, placing a set of wire framed glasses in my palm as I hastily clamber to slide them into place on the bridge of my dainty little nose.
Standing in front of me is an extremely frail and slender man in his late fifties to early sixties, his pale skin marred with wrinkles and other mild blemishes as he stares down at me with a set of deep dark brown eyes. He wears a set of black suspenders, holding up his rather high waisted pale brown slacks, which lay tightly over a simple starched white button up shirt.
A lanyard hangs around his neck, a simple light blue strip of fabric holding the simple plastic rectangle reading.
Dr Michael Owen - Director and Curator
Trenthamshire Museum of Wool and Textiles
The old man weakly laughs, moving some of the boxes aside with his foot as he tries to gently clear the floor around the sofa.
"Ms Hughes..." he begins with a chuckle, continuing to shuffle around the boxes as much as he can without bending down due to the twinge in his back. "While I appreciate... no... admire your enthusiasm, we have all the time in the world to document Mr and Mrs Hill's recent donations. I would prefer that you paced yourself and made sure to rest appropriately, rather than burning the candle at both ends as they would say."
"Sorry..." I wheeze, my eyes snapping to the badge quickly in order to read who I was addressing. "... Dr Own...". My lips tremble as I listen to the voice coming from my mouth, the sweet and soft dulcet tones tinged with a thick English accent that I can't shake no matter ow hard I try.
"Oh it's not me you have to be apologizing to" the man chuckles, pacing his way over to one of the three desks in the cramped office. "Your back however will probably have some harsh words for you if you keep sleeping on that old thing" he states, easing himself into an aging leather desk chair. "Trust me."
Glancing around the office I slowly begin to take in my surroundings thanks to the warm light from above. The office is cramped yet cozy, the small space being stacked in a manner to cram the three desks and their computers into a room likely only intended for one or even two. Two desks sit jointed together, the two closer to the door to my left being merged with their screens facing away from each other while Mr Owen's desk sits alone at the other end of the room.
At one of the conjoined desks sits a laptop currently set to a locked screen, the images on the background slowly shifting between the cover art for various Dungeons and Dragons source books. In the old and well worn desk chair sits a large canvas messenger bag, a small series of cute keychain toys hanging from the end of one of the straps. I squint as I manage to make out the shapes of a little Pikachu, Yoshi, and Link hanging from the bag, their plastic appearing to be heavily worn as the paint is peeling in places.
Along the right hand wall sit a row of bookshelves, the shelves mostly filled with academic textbooks and plenty of aging old tomes with heavily worn covers. Scrambling on the sofa I look over the right edge, my eyes falling onto the sight of a few squat metal filing cabinets serving as additional bench space and a coffee table.
I stagger to my feet, a whimper escaping my quivering lips as I find my self looking up and around the room from a drastically shrunken view. A heavy bounce quickly snaps my attention to my chest, a short sharp gasp escaping my lips as I stare down at a shelf of flesh pressing out into an extremely pale yellow vintage ruffled blouse. My eye twitches as I feel two straps dig into my shoulders, the tight and supportive bra straining to hoist up the hefty sagging weights.
I feel pathetic and drained of energy, my eyes darting to the frosted glass and then to the black computer screen as I find my makeshift mirror. I stagger and tumble forward, my stride entirely off thanks to my shrunken legs and the heavily adjusted center of gravity, stopping myself as I stare into the reflection in the computer screen with a terrified and confused expression.
A set of dark mossy green eyes stare at be from behind a large set of gold wire-framed glasses, the thick lenses making them appear far larger as they blink rapidly in disbelief. Long wild copper red hair not only frames for cute and dainty freckled face but also er whole body, the ass length locks traipsing over her shoulders in a series of tangles thanks to the night on the sofa.
Dark bags form under her eyes, marring her otherwise perfect and pale complexion. Her ears each hold a small emerald stud in the lobe, a matching set to compliment her deep green eyes. Her soft pinks lips aren't adorned with any lipstick, rather a faint and mostly worn off sheen of lip gloss merely gives then a slight shimmer in the light of the office.
Tiny is the best way to describe her build, from her barely over five foot stature to her pathetically rake-thin frame. Tapping at the blouse I wince, feeling the faint hint of my ribs beneath the fabric as the redhead in the reflection does the same. Before long my slender soft fingers are tracing their way down, tapping at the slight flare in my hips as I feel out my thin and svelte form.
Before long it becomes more than apparent just where all this woman's fat has gone, the heavy weights on my chest being mirrored by a set of thick and rounded jiggling checks resting beneath a long dark brown panel skirt and inside a set of tight panties and warm black leggings. Kicking out a lender and dainty leg I quickly spot a set of black leather monk shoes with a large silver buckle adorning my tiny feet before I quickly bring the foot back down for balance.
"Ms Hughes?" the older man asks, his voice practically dripping with concern. "I know that it's a weekday, but I think you should probably go home to get some real rest."
Whipping around I look at the man with wide eyes, my mouth opening and closing a few times before I manage to even get a word out. "I..." I blurt, only to pause immediately as the man holds up a hand sternly.
"I won't hear a word of it Ms Hughes. The rest of the Hill collection can be documented on your return, Martha and myself can run things just fine and dandy while you recover, you do know that we somehow managed to run this place before you started" he states with a chuckle, his hand waving at me as though to shoo me away.
Biting my bottom lip, my heart hammering in my chest with such force I can feel it in my skull, I slowly begin to shuffle out from behind the desk and towards the door.
"Ms Hughes!" Dr Owen calls out, causing me to jump with a yelp. "Don't forget your things" he follows up, pointing to be the bag and to the coat rack beside the door. Glancing at the coat rack I immediately spot what he was gesturing to, a small dark brown beret that matches my skirt and soft somewhat dark yellow capelet coat before dangling from the lowest hook.
"Th... thank you Dr Owen" I meekly chirp, grabbing the bag from the seat with a groaning heave before slinging it around my shoulder. My body shakes for a moment under the weight of the canvas bag, the heft of the thing quickly causing my weakened form to struggle to carry it as I fumble to find a comfortable position for the strap.
Grabbing the laptop as well I quickly shove it into the canvas bag, glimpses of various books along with stationary and a large phone coming into view as I slide the closed device in amongst it all. I shuffle awkwardly towards the door, reaching up on my tippy I grab the coat and beret before quickly putting on the latter and slinging the former over my shoulder.
"Good night, I suppose, Ms Hughes" Dr Owen chuckles, looking up from his screen as he hears me open the door. "I expect to see you here bright and early, and most importantly well rested, tomorrow."
Looking back at the man, the door to the office now wide open, I go to speak only to catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I watch in deep seeded confusion as the frosted styling of the glass appears to recede, the glass becoming clear as the strange aberrant haze slides away to parts unknown.
"Ms Hughes?" Dr Owen remarks, looking at me with a furrowed brow. "Are you quite alright? Do you need someone to escort you..."
"I'm fine!" I squeak, jumping out the door as a cold sweat builds on the back of my neck. "Bye Dr Owen" I croak, closing the door behind me as I find myself standing in a stairwell.
The walls around me are a pale and almost creamy yellow, the aging paint peeling and flaking around a small window framed in cast iron and set into the rendered wall. My heart seizes up in my chest as I watch the clear, albeit imperfect, pane of glass slowly begins to grow frosted as the strange presence seeps into the slightly reflective surface.
Inching closer I look up at the high window, standing once more on my toes as I tap at the glass. It slowly begins to dawn on me, the thick white haze being all too similar to that which had bound me and spread across the walls of the glass coffin I had stood in mere minutes ago.
"Is that..." I whimper, clutching at my throat of the extremely high pitched and squeaky English voice escapes my lips. "Are they... watching through..." I blurt out, tapping at the glass once more as the frosted effect slips away once again.
Standing in the stairwell I adjust my bag, taking it off my shoulder with a sigh of relief as I pull the thick and warm coat around me. Buckling the waist band tightly and buttoning the waterproof fabric over my bountiful bust, I quickly turn to fishing through the bag for the phone I had spotted earlier.
As I pull the phone out I let out a short murmur, the relatively normal smart phone looking gigantic in my diminutive grasp. As I push the power button it quickly unlocks at the sight of my face, a home screen filled with streaming apps backed by the image of an aurora quickly popping into view.
Fumbling with the bag and slinging once again over my shoulder with a pained grunt, I quickly move to opening up a ride share app on the phone. As I pace carefully down the stairs, easing myself down each one to avoid tumbling over with my shortened legs, I quickly search for the ride history in the hopes of finding some common destination.
Exiting the stairwell I find myself in the entrance hall for some sort of museum, a small front desk sitting to my right and beside a large set of antique wooden doors with one siting wide open in an inviting manner. Across from the stairwell sits a small lounge area, a small set of antique stools and tables all in view of the front desk.
To the left rest large glass cabinets filled with all manner of ancient looking tools and pieces of clothing with a large spinning wheel sitting in the center of it all. A large arch way sits along the left hand wall, a passage way leading deeper into the building, while above it rests a large glass window looking into a small office space above.
Swallowing hard I return my attention to the phone, my eyes darting over the various addresses in the app until one seems to repeat far too many times.
"Farrier Road" I mutter, smirking as I read the address aloud. "That's... quaint..." I chuckle, the laughter coming out in a cutesy giggle thanks to this new voice. Quickly punching the address into my phone's GPS it begins to autofill, a smirk spreading across my lips as I feel like I had cracked some sort of mystery.
Taking a deep breath I begin to walk towards the open door, yawning involuntarily as I feel my eye lids grow heavy. "Okay..." I sigh, rubbing my eyes from behind the thick glasses. "Just need to get home, and from there..." I state, giving myself a pep talk only to trail off. "I... I have no idea."
No comments:
Post a Comment