**The Experiment Begins: A Slow, Sensory Nightmare**
The moment you step into the dimly lit lab, the air is thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and something else—something *sweet*, like vanilla and ozone. Elise twirls the gas mask in her hands, her fingers tracing the rubber straps with deliberate slowness.
“Oh, don’t look so nervous!” she coos, tilting her head. “This part’s *fun*, I promise.”
Before you can react, she’s pressing the mask over your face, her thumb brushing your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. The seal hisses as it locks into place, and then—
**The gas hits.**
It’s cool at first, minty almost, flooding your lungs. But then your skin prickles. Your bones *ache*. A deep, resonant *thrum* fills your ears, vibrating through your skull like a tuning fork struck against your spine.
**You’re shrinking.**
Elise’s breath—once a soft, distant thing—now rasps in your ears like a gust of wind. Her heartbeat, a steady *thud-thud-thud*, booms like a war drum. The room stretches around you, the ceiling vaulting into impossible heights as the floor yawns wider and wider.
**Six feet tall.**
Her heels, once sleek and polished, now loom like obsidian monoliths. The leather creaks as she shifts her weight, the sound groaning through you like bending metal.
**Five feet.**
The hem of her skirt brushes against your shoulder—*when did you fall to your knees?*—and the fabric *whooshes* like a sail catching wind.
**Four feet.**
Her fingers—long, elegant, tipped in crimson nail polish—descend toward you. The *click* of her nails against each other snaps like gunfire.
**Three feet.**
She *laughs*, and the sound rolls over you like thunder, rich and throaty. “Ohhh, this is *delicious*,” she purrs, her voice now a resonant, echoing force. “Look at you. So *tiny*.”
**Two feet.**
Her foot—*god, her foot*—slides forward, the heel lifting with a slow, torturous *creak*. The sole peels from the floor, revealing the faint imprint of her arch. The scent of leather and her perfume floods your senses, overwhelming.
**One foot.**
Her toes flex inside her stockings, the nylon whispering as it strains. You can see every pore in her skin, every faint sheen of sweat.
**Six inches.**
She *steps over you*, her shoe eclipsing the ceiling lights as it hovers above. The shadow swallows you whole.
**One inch.**
Her breath is a hurricane. Her pulse is an earthquake. The world is *her*.
And then—
Her foot descends.
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