Opening the sheet-metal door reveals an expansive warehouse, exposed beams and girders criss-crossing the walls and ceiling. The room is massive; it's at least five stories tall, and could easily accomidate several jumbo jets. The room is empty, except for what appears to be a surgical table and some scientific instruments at the distant center of the room.
Curious, you walk towards the table, wondering how such a massive building can exist inside the mansion. Suddenly, something heavy hits the back of your head with a loud "CLONG!" and everything fades to black.
The world slowly regains focus, and you realize that you're still in the warehouse, but are now lying on the surgical table. You roll your head to the right to see a man whose very appearance defines the term "mad scientist." With his white lab coat, dishevelled gray hair, and maniacal grin, he is an imposing figure. You try to sit up, but are pulled back down by the rubber-lined metal restraints clasped to you wrists and ankles.
"Hello there, my little specimen. I'm Dr. Bane," the man announces. "And I love to make things grow. GROW! HA HA HA!" He cackles for several seconds, as you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. The doctor pulls a remote control out of his lab coat. He thumbs a button, and a strange sci-fi laser descends from the ceiling, aimed directly at you. "You'll be experiment #52. I hope you fare better than the other 51."
He thumbs another button, and the laser fires a blue beam at you. Blue energy envelopes your body. A tingling sensation ripples up and down your senses, but it's more ticklish than anything else.
Suddenly, your perception seems to shift, and the room seems to be getting a little smaller. Your sneakers start to feel uncomftorably tight, as the cuffs of your pants seem to hike themselves up above your ankles. The waist of your jeans is starting to feel like a boa constrictor attacking it's prey. Your t-shirt, once loose-fitting, is now pulling tight, revealing you naval. The shirts collar pulls tight against your neck, and the sleeves stop at the middle of your biceps.
The doctor flicks another button on the remote, and the laser stops. He cackles maddly. "It works! It works! You see, you're six inches taller now!"
You look down, and sure enough, your body seems longer and proportionately wider. The restraints have adjusted themselves to keep you restrained. Now what?  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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