HGlock SM - Jeanette.pdf (2025)

Jeanette nervously adjusted the hem of her skirt as she stepped into the high-rise office building. At 18, she was young for a job interview, but her exemplary grades and part-time babysitting gigs had given her an edge. As she rode the elevator up to the 28th floor, Jeanette mentally rehearsed answers to common employment questions

The receptionist, a severe-looking woman in a tailored suit, ushered Jeanette to a conference room where she was greeted by Mr. Hartwell, the CEO of Hartwell Tech. He was a portly man in his 50s with a salt-and-pepper beard and a gleaming gold watch. Jeanette extended a hand to shake his, which he took with a firm grip and a charming smile.

"Ms. Jeanette, a pleasure. I've heard excellent things about you. Please, have a seat." He gestured to a chair across from his at the polished mahogany table.

As they sat, Mr. Hartwell launched into a summarization of the position: junior sales associate. He described her duties in detail - organizing spreadsheets, accompanying clients to lunches, answering phones. It all sounded so straightforward, so attainable. Jeanette's nerves began to dissipate as he spoke.

Then, about 15 minutes into the interview, Mr. Hartwell stood abruptly. "I'm going to be honest, Jeanette. This all sounds rather boring, doesn't it? The truth is, there's more to this job than I let on in the posting."

He walked to the far wall and flipped a switch. A section of it slid open to reveal a sleek control panel. Mr. Hartwell tapped a few buttons and a glass cabinet to Jeanette's left opened with a hiss.

Inside was a futuristic-looking device - a series of silver orbs suspended in a crisscrossing web of wires. The orbs rotated slowly and pulsed with a gentle blue light. Jeanette gaped at it, unsure what to make of this sudden reveal.

"Ms. Jeanette, I'm not just looking for any sales associate. I'm looking for a guinea pig. That is...a tester for an experimental technology I've developed. It's a...shrinker, for lack of a better term. See, I've always had an interest in the miniature. I started with dollhouses and model trains as a boy. But that was never quite enough. I've always dreamed of experiencing the world at that scale myself."

Mr. Hartwell approached the device and stroked one of the orbs almost lovingly. "After decades of research and development, I've finally perfected the shrinking process. But it requires a human test subject. And that's where you come in, my dear."

Jeanette's mind reeled. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a prank, some kind of psychological test. But the man's eyes were dead serious as he continued.

"I know this is a lot to take in. But I assure you, it is quite safe. Well, mostly safe. There are some risks, I won't deny that. Staying miniaturized too long can lead to some...unusual side effects. But that won't be a concern, now will it? Because I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse."

Mr. Hartwell returned to his seat and steepled his fingers. "You take the shrinker for a test run and report back to me with your findings. If all goes well, the job is yours, along with a very generous salary and benefits package. And, of course, you'll have first access to subsequent miniaturization sessions after that. Can you imagine it, Jeanette? Seeing the world from a whole new perspective? Experiencing things you never thought possible?"

He leaned forward, eyes glinting. "I can see you're intrigued. Don't bother feigning hesitation now. We both know you'll accept. The pragmatic part of you is already weighing the benefits and deciding it's worth the risk. So why don't we just...jump right in, shall we?"

Mr. Hartwell stood again and held out a hand expectantly. Jeanette hesitated a beat longer before reaching out to take it. As his fingers wrapped around hers, they felt strangely warm, almost feverish.

He led her to the device and opened a small door set into its base. "After you," he said with a flourish.

Jeanette's legs started moving as if of their own accord. She ducked into the opening and found herself in a cramped, dark space. There were no visible controls, just smooth metal walls that pressed in on her from all sides.

As the door slid shut behind her, Jeanette's heart began to pound. She was trapped. There was no backing out now. A sickening feeling of inevitability settled over her.

A low hum filled the chamber, growing in volume until it became a high-pitched whine. The metal thrummed against her back. Jeanette squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands over her ears, bracing for what was to come.

The world around her started to change. The metal walls that had pressed so close just moments ago now retreated, expanding outward as if they were made of rubber. The space grew lighter, lit by a diffuse blue glow.

Tentatively, Jeanette opened her eyes and found herself in a massive, open box. She was standing on what looked like an enormous patchwork quilt, the squares of fabric bigger than football fields. In the distance, she could see a towering wall that she now recognized as the conference room door.

She took an experimental step and her foot sank into the plush carpet. As she started to explore, a sound boomed above her, so loud it made her ears ache. Mr. Hartwell's voice.

"Well? How does it feel to be small, Jeanette? Isn't it wonderful?"

She craned her neck to see him standing over the box, an amused smile playing on his lips. He looked like a mountain range, cheeks and nose each a cliff face. What had happened? Had the device worked? She glanced down at her hands and saw they looked the same, but...different somehow. Smaller.

"Oh, don't be alarmed," Mr. Hartwell bellowed. "You're currently about six inches tall. The perfect size for getting an intimate view of the world. I'm going to run some errands now. You're free to explore. Just be careful, won't you? These office spaces can be rather hazardous at your new size. But that's all part of the fun, isn't it?"

He turned and strode off, his footfalls like earthquakes. As his bulk disappeared from view, Jeanette took another step forward and plummeted head over heels into a crevice between two squares of the carpet. She tumbled end over end, unable to right herself before she landed in a heap at the bottom.

Dazed, she struggled to her feet, dusting off her skirt and blouse. Her head swam and her vision blurred briefly before she caught her balance. Okay, so she was small. And the world was huge and dangerous. But she could do this. She had to do this.

Slowly, carefully, she started to make her way across the quilted landscape. The fabric scraped her skin like sandpaper and the weave was uneven and knobbly underfoot. But forward she climbed, seeking shelter from any coming threats.

As she clambered over a particularly steep fold, a noise startled her. She froze, turning her head this way and that, trying to pinpoint it. There. The rustle of footsteps in the distance, each one a bass drum beat. Someone, or something, was coming in her direction.

Heart in her throat, Jeanette scanned her surroundings wildly, seeking a hiding spot. But there was nothing - no crevices in the smooth fabric, no overhangs to duck under. She was exposed, completely vulnerable.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. Jeanette gripped the edge of the quilt and hauled herself up, leaping from square to square in a panicked bid for safety. But she could hear it now, could see the looming shadow of a building growing on the periphery of her vision. The approaching giant was nearly upon her.

Panting, Jeanette squeezed herself into a tiny fold, arms wrapped around her knees, head tucked to chest. She closed her eyes and prayed. The footsteps boomed and rumbled, so close she could feel the vibrations through the floor. And then...

They passed by, receding into the distance. Jeanette held her breath, straining to hear. The tread continued on, fading into the background noises of the office. She was safe. For now.

Shakily, she unfurled herself from her hiding spot and peered out. The shadow had moved on, the giant out of sight for the moment. But she knew it was only a temporary reprieve.

On this strange new landscape, she was vulnerable. Weak. Helpless. At the mercy of massive creatures that could crush her under a careless heel. Her breath caught in her throat as a fresh wave of fear washed over her. What an idiot she had been, agreeing to this.

She had to get out of here. But how? The box walls loomed above, sheer and impossibly high. The carpet stretched out before her, an endless sea of fabric. She was well and truly stranded.

Jeanette slumped back against the quilt, hot tears springing to her eyes. Her chest heaved with suppressed sobs as the enormity of her situation crashed down on her. She was trapped. A prisoner of her own poor choices.

And the worst part was, Mr. Hartwell had known. He had orchestrated this entire thing. He wanted her small, wanted her helpless. The thought made her stomach turn. What did he have planned for her? What horrors awaited her in this shrunken world?

She pressed a hand to her mouth, smothering a rising scream. No. She couldn't break down. Not now. She had to stay strong, had to survive this. For Mama, for her own future. But oh, how she wanted to crumple in on herself and weep until there were no tears left.

A sound caught her attention. Footsteps again, and growing louder. Heavy, deliberate, coming from the direction of the door. Jeanette's head snapped up, pulse jumping in her throat. It was him. Mr. Hartwell. He was back.

She scanned wildly for a new hiding spot, but there was nowhere to conceal herself. The quilt squares stretched out endlessly, featureless and bare. She was exposed, completely defenseless.

The footsteps reached the box and stopped. Jeanette squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms over her head, bracing for impact. But it didn't come. Instead, she heard a slow clap, each beat cavernous and echoing.

"Well, well, well," Mr. Hartwell's voice boomed. "Look how tiny you are. And all alone in my wonderful office. I hope you're enjoying yourself, Jeanette. Because I know I am."

A dark shadow fell over her and she peeked through her fingers to see the giant's looming form blotting out the light. His face was a cliff wall of features, lips curled in a smile.

"I've been watching you on the cameras. Quite the acrobat, aren't you? Leaping and bounding across the carpet like a little grasshopper. But hop all you like, there's nowhere to go. You're mine now, my dear. My perfect tiny little test subject. And I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Something moved above her - his hand, a fleshy monolith bigger than she was. It descended toward her slowly, giving her time to cower away. But she was frozen, transfixed by horror and dread.

The hand lowered until a single finger hovered an inch above her head, blotting out her vision. She felt the heat of it, the loom of its bulk. It drifted to the side, coming to rest next to her, a continent of skin and bone.

"I'm going to pick you up now, Jeanette," Mr. Hartwell intoned. "Brace yourself. It's going to be a bumpy ride."