“Listen carefully,” he said, “this won’t be easy for you to hear” and he held out what appeared to be an empty hand. Professor Iltaniko leaned closer partly to humor Frank Rush and somewhat out of curiosity. At first the professor heard only the two men in the room breathing somewhat heavily. Both tried to suppress the noise of their lungs as he was focusing his ear. He finally moved back with a startled expression on his face all the while examining Rush’s hand without physically touching it.
He leaned in again after a moment and heard the words, “I’m here professor! They’ve somehow distorted shape and visibility but I’m here. It’s me; Gail Trembly!”
Professor Iltaniko sat there with the oddest of expressions. The look on his face was a mix of disbelief and horror. Gail was his secretary who had been missing for several days. It seems they did have the technology to change a human being into virtually half the size of a flea. The whole human race could be reduced to the contents of a garbage can, the Professor thought.
It was truth and Frank Rush was not out of his mind. Frank wore both satisfaction plus worry on his face as he looked at the Professor then carefully put his hand palm up next to the microscope on the counter allowing Gail a place to stand.
Masters Of Horror broke for a commercial and Terry decided it was time for a snack. He got off of the couch and rummaged around in the refrigerator finally coming up with a Rubbermaid container of tuna salad his mom had put together about a week ago. Grabbing a couple of pieces of bread, he tossed them in the toaster and popped the lid on the tuna. A putrid smell rose from the container which signified to the teenager that time had run out on the fish and mayo mix. He stepped on the footpad that opened the kitchen waste receptacle to toss the spoiled glob out and as he looked down he saw millions of tiny people all screaming, “Terry, help us!”
Had it not been so many of them Terry might not have heard their screams. As it was, it came to ear as no more than a cat’s hiss. The boy jumped back about two feet stumbling as he did and landed on the floor on his backside. He rose up on one knee and took a second look into the garbage container but to his surprise it only held garbage.
He knew he had been smoking a lot of pot lately but this was ridiculous. He found some Swiss cheese and honey baked ham in the crisper so he tossed that on his toast, added some mayonnaise (which he smelled first) to the sandwich and grabbed a coke, rushing to get back to the end of the show. When Terry returned to the living room, there was nothing but static instead of the program on the television screen. As he tried to adjust the picture all of the tiny pixels that danced across the screen suddenly turned into little people crying out, “Help us Terry!”
Terry freaked, dropping his sandwich on the floor and immediately out of the lower corner of the screen millions of tiny people poured like a stream down to the carpet, moving across the floor towards the ham and cheese. Just like those African ants you see on the National Geographic station these miniscule humanoids devoured the sandwich, toast and all. Terry backed up against the wall while this took place almost crawling out of his skin. When the sandwich was totally consumed the miniscules retraced their steps and snaked back into the LED screen. Upon arrival of the last Terry heard, a crowd level, “Thank You!”
The teenager turned and ran out the front door into the yard where he was bathed in a blue white light from above. Screaming he yelled, “No, not me. Please!” He felt it was his turn to be reduced and added to the alien’s catch. He never thought it would end this way after all it was just a television show. He squirmed on his back in the middle of his front lawn as the face came closer; orbed head aglow and large eyes looking down at him.
“Doctor, I believe he’s coming out of the anesthesia,” the nurse shared and the doctor moved to the teenager’s side. He slipped his stethoscope hearing apparatus into his ears to check the boy’s vital signs as he looked to the monitor as a means of confirmation. Placing the stethoscope on the boy’s chest, the doctor listened to the teenager’s heartbeat when suddenly he pulled his arm back.
Looking over at the nurse somewhat puzzled he brought the stethoscope slowly down to the boy’s chest a second time and heard a tiny voice cry, “Help me! My name is Frank Rush.”