Rather Unexpected
Groaning as he came too, Chuck tried to piece together what had happened.
After splitting up, he was heading back to their place to do digital research. The rest of them were making or checking local street resources for information. Calling a taxi, he'd been picked up and headed for his destination.
Things turned suspicious when the cab pulled through an 'alley shortcut' and gas started coming out of the vents. He'd tried to fight back, but the doors wouldn't open, the window was too solid to break, and his seat belt wouldn't let him reach the driver or unbuckle.
It had been a trap, but was he specifically targeted or was it random?
Taking stock of himself, he realized that he was wearing an orange jumpsuit, not his own clothes. Then he realized that he was barefoot. Checking for pockets, he didn't have any so his phone, watch, and everything had been taken.
Looking around, he was laying on a bed in a bedroom. The curtains were covering the window, there wasn't much furniture, and a door went out.
Getting up, he moved the curtains only to get a wall view. Frowning he wondered why a window faced a wall, but he also knew how it went in the city. Sometimes property changed hands and buildings filled in open spaces.
Slowly moving towards the door, he listened for guards or activity outside. He didn't have the Intersect or his team so he was on his own.
There wasn't anything that he could hear so he opened the door to find a bathroom. That was a strange layout he didn't expect. Checking the door on the other side didn't show anything so he opened it to the stairs. Creeping down, he realized that although some things seemed normal, something was definitely off about this place!
Reaching the downstairs put him in the kitchen which led through to a living room. Like the bedroom and bathroom upstairs, they functioned but were bare minimum on everything beyond the necessities.
Wary of a guard, he opened the front door before diving back into the house as a cat's paw barely missed him!
"What the?" Chuck couldn't help but exclaim. How was a cat so big? Or… how was he so small?
Peeking out the door again, he could see the cat looking back at him. He slammed the door closed just before the paw struck it.
At least this time he'd also glanced beyond the cat to see a table centerpiece to the side. This confirmed that either he'd been shrunk or someone had enlarged everything else. As strange as it seemed, it was more likely that he'd been shrunk.
This explained the change in clothes, the cat, the table setting, and what appeared to be a dollhouse as his current residence.
Now, what to do about it?
His first plan was to begin checking windows. The first floor faced the cat but upstairs faced the opposite direction.
It wasn't going to be easy, but he hoped to escape out the back side of the dollhouse.
Leveraging whatever he could find, including the dining chairs from the kitchen, Chuck tried working on the windows for a while with no success. They were solidly installed and wouldn't break.
Going back downstairs, he checked through the window to find the cat grooming.
Taking the chance, he quietly opened the door and snuck out. He closed the door behind him enough to appear closed but open enough for a quick retreat if needed. Watching the cat as he went, he sidled his way along the side of the house until he reached the corner and could move out of sight.
Getting his bearings and evaluating his environment, he realized that the 'wall' from behind the dollhouse was just cardboard. It had been papered and propped up to confuse him.
Who was behind this?
Using the dollhouse as a barrier against the cat, Chuck continued to take stock of his environment. He had already noted the table, but looking further out he learned that he was in a loft type place. The rest of it didn't appear to be in the best shape. Decaying bricks, a mat on the floor, and a few items for living were the primary things he could see.
Was the cat a pet or a stray that had gotten in? It could go either way since he hadn't seen a collar.
Before he could make any other plans, he felt the back of his clothes lift up before his feet left the ground. Twisting to see what had him, he discovered a man had his clothes pinched in his index finger and thumb. Looking at the face showed an expression of maniacal glee. The man looked like a crazy scientist with a gray beard, wild white hair, and disheveled clothes.
"You didn't think you could get away, did you?" There was a cackle to his voice. "Not in this fashion, you have to face my pets. Gladiators don't get to go unless they survive a battle to the death against the monsters." He kept muttering about what to use against him. The cat, rats, spiders, bugs, toys, and anything he thought could amuse him was listed as potential 'monsters.'
Swallowing, Chuck knew he needed to escape. He was a former spy and private contractor, not a gladiator!
Squirming and shifting, Chuck tried to get loose but the man's hold was too strong. Instead, he helplessly hung there as the man opened the dollhouse, put him back in, and closed the front before he could get up from where he'd been dropped over the bed again.
Right back where he'd started, Chuck waited until the sounds of the man had receded. Then he crept back down to the front door. Sure enough, the cat was gone so his coast was clear.
Slipping out the door again, he made a run for the centerpiece. It was a turnaround with a napkin holding jar and shakers for salt and pepper. Climbing up, he used the shakers to reach the napkin holder and leverage himself in. As long as the man didn't eat he could probably remain hidden for a while.
Coming up with a new plan, he started ripping the napkin into strips. Maybe he could make a rope? He didn't know how though. A single piece wouldn't hold his weight so he grabbed several of the pieces he'd ripped off and tied them together. Having used a lot of ropes, he knew how they looked but not how to make them. So, he started weaving them at random and was glad to see when a form of a rope began to take shape. Continuing to tie and weave, his rope grew until he ran out of napkins.
Sitting on his rope, it was awkward in the small space but he went with it since it was his only plan.
After a peek to ensure it was still safe, Chuck climbed out of the ceramic jar and started sneaking across the table towards the side furthest from the sleeping mat. He couldn't see the man or the cat, but he didn't want to risk it.
Reaching the edge, he glanced over but couldn't find anything to tie off too.
Leaving the end there, he walked back to the centerpiece. Pulling the rest of his rope out, he got the other end and tied it to the centerpiece posts. Then he worked to pull the rest of his rope to the edge.
Another look down and around still showed the coast clear so he dropped the rope over pushing until it was all down.
Trying not to panic, he slipped off of the edge holding on to the rope. He hadn't been very good at this in gym class growing up, but he'd improved working for the CIA. Getting the rope around his leg, he began to slowly lower himself down.
Periodically scanning his environment, he tried to keep an eye out for the man, the cat, and anything else that might attack him at this size.
Reaching the end of his rope, he dropped the last few inches to land into a roll. While he tried to get up, he sneezed alerting him to his impending doom. Before he could turn completely around, the running cat had pounced!
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