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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2222158-Low-Prospects-for-Littles/cid/2837955-Treading-Lightly
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by Ty975 Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Interactive · Adult · #2222158
Today, the criminal, poor, and unlucky are condemned to be shrunk. Where do you fit in?
This choice: Swimming in the Bottle  •  Go Back...
Chapter #5

Treading Lightly

    by: Ty975 Author IconMail Icon
Reagan suppressed a shriek as the wind rushed by her and the dozen others who themselves were wholeheartedly screaming. She was smart enough to know how poorly that'd work out for them once they finally collided with the frigid, freezing cavern of packaged water. The whole lot splashed into the cove sinking several feet deep each, all staggered in various stages of finding their way back to the surface. Reagan had dove in feet first, smoothly shooting into the deep, but in a prime position to immediately kick off in the direction she knew was up. Others figured this out as well, swimming toward the lip of the bottle where the sun still shined in. One unfortunate soul apparently wasn't one for swimming, flailing about in the water with no sense of direction or means to reach air again.

The small blonde breathed in deeply. Jesus, she was familiar with eating tinies. When she was big, she had more than her share of living, thinking snacks over the years. But forcing them to tread water in an impossibly deep, freezing reservoir while waiting to be effortlessly chugged down? That was new. She wondered if the effort to stay afloat was even worth it knowing full well what awaited her. Even know, the refuge the sun provided was being blotted out by the opaque, blue bottle cap that screwed over their one possible exit. One they'd all be heading through soon enough.

Her fellow condemned were all screaming madly, coughing up chilled bucketloads of water and crying out to no one in particular. Reagan wondered if they even that much air to breath with the cap shut. So now the options were to drown, suffocate, or do both deep inside another woman's gut. Lovely.

Said woman had already moved on from her extra flavoring, returning the bottle to a vacant satchel hold on some fitness waist band she wore. Honest to god looked like a fanny pack as far as Reagan could tell through the convex plastic that mostly warped her view of the outside. The bottle being handled shifted the water around, and those closer to the edges were smacked into the walls and smothered by splashing waves. Those in the center were dragged to the sides by the currents, and the cycle repeated, tossing all that were present around the foreboding pool.

It was worse when Hannah actually started running. Unable to clearly make out what was happening outside, the blurred shapes of the world shook viciously and unpredictably as they flew past. The giant girl's pace granted the illusion of reaching impossible speeds from the chaotic safety of the water bottle prison. Reagan treading timing her kicks and positioning with the swing of Hannah's hips and the jolt from her footfalls. Everyone else was a victim to random circumstance.

One more luxury lost when reduced was the ability to tell time. Not just knowing what time it was, but being able to keep track of how long it's passage went by. For all Reagan knew, they could've only been swaying in her bottle into another five minutes of her jog. To them, the storm they were trapped in was prolonged endlessly, throwing their desperate, meager beings all around the plastic vehicle of their doom. When most found any solace or rest, they used it for weeping or crying out. Anything to make bearable the torture of the bottle.

Hannah would deliver on their hopes not even a minute later, reaching down for her water mid jog. Her sweaty fingers wrapped around the midsection, loudly crinkling the thin plastic that none of the occupants could even put a dent in and reviving the watery torrent. Pulling it from her pocket, she raised it around up to her face, trying to keep her hands steady and balanced even while running. Her left hand came up to undo the cap, bringing back the sun to shine on the hopeless tinies.

If only for a brief moment. Not a second passed until the hole to the sky was dominated by an oncoming set of slightly parted, panting lips. The exhaust that came through them swirling inside the bottle and even fogging up the plastic. Then the water level started turning, indicating that their prison was being tilted up with the distant bottom no coming close to parallel level with them. Enough for the liquid to finally fall out the end and past Hannah's thirsty lips.

The horrified panic in the bottle received a fresh comeback, all tinies within swimming opposite from the where the current was now dragging them. Though as the rapids built in power, no one could avoid their fate. In two gulps, half of the people dropped into the bottle were pulled relentlessly beyond the pink portal of Hannah's lips, over her submerged, pulsing tongue, and over the dark drop at the back of her mouth in successive gulps. More fell in after them, though the lips mercifully closed soon after. Behind them, another resounding gulp cast down the last few unfortunates that were dragged into her maw, with just a few people left swimming.

What happened to Reagan?
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