Madame Marissa - Crushing tinies after a party night
A Harsh Awakening
Crushing Tinies in Their Sleep
You wake up, disoriented and hungover from last night's party. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the hazy scene before you. The floor is littered with tiny figures, their small bodies crumpled and still. You don't remember what happened; all you know is that you need to reply to some messages.
Through bleary eyes, you focus on your phone, completely oblivious to the mass of tiny people beneath your feet. As you walk back and forth, your heavy boots make contact with soft bodies, squishing them under your soles without a second thought. It's only when you sit down to take off your shoes that you notice the carnage around you.
You grin, realizing that these pathetic creatures are nothing more than pests. With a sudden burst of energy, you crush as many tinies as you can under the weight of your boots before kicking them off and continuing your rampage barefoot. It's exhilarating, like stomping on ants or squishing spiders.
As you stalk through the hallway, you can't help but inhale deeply, filling your nostrils with the sweet scent of fear emanating from the tiny beings scattered across the floor. You take a few steps back and stomp on them again, the satisfying crunch of bones and flesh beneath your feet filling the silence.
Your footwear is drenched in sweat from dancing all night, and you decide it would be even more humiliating for the tinies to be crushed under your socks. You snatch a handful from the floor and stuff them into your socks, grinding their bodies into the fabric as you walk.
Finally, you reach your bedroom door, ready to rid yourself of these disgusting pests once and for all. You kick the door open, bracing for an onslaught of tiny figures, but there are none to be seen. You frown, confused. Where did they all go?
Just then, you notice a few tinies hiding under your bed. With a sneer, you pull them out one by one, crushing them beneath your stomping foot. Satisfied that you've gotten rid of every last one, you collapse onto your bed, exhausted but triumphant.
As you drift off to sleep, you're haunted by the sounds of crushed tinies and the sickening crunch of bones beneath your boots. In your dreams, you're the queen of a world where tiny people are nothing more than insects, and you'll continue to stomp out their pathetic existence whenever they dare to cross your path.
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