[Shifted] Sudden Shifts 1

The afternoon sun felt heavy against Quinn’s skin, casting long, distorted shadows across the pavement. He walked with his head down, eyes fixed on the scuffed toes of his sneakers, trying to go about his day.

Suddenly, a loose paving stone snagged the edge of his shoe. Quinn’s heart leaped into his throat as his balance vanished. He stumbled, arms flailing wildly in an uncoordinated attempt to catch himself. His foot caught the heel of his other shoe, sending it skittering across the concrete like a projectile. In the frantic scramble to steady himself, his hand slammed hard against the ground.

The impact was loud. He felt his size bracelet hitting the asphalt with a violent crack. The device sparked and sputtered as its white light began to blink different colors. He braced himself for the inevitable malfunction where he’d get the familiar, dizzying pull of shrinking down to the size of a Tiny. But the pressure didn’t come from the outside in; it came from within.

The world began to tilt upward. Quinn shot upward in terrifying, rhythmic spurts. twenty feet, fifty, two hundred… And growing still. He reached out blindly for support, but his hand smashed through a high-rise roof like it was made of dry twigs. Below him, the frantic shrieks of people rose up, sounding like microscopic insects.

He tried to scramble away, but his movements were catastrophic. His massive, bare feet slid across the pavement, grinding stone and shattering glass into dust. He felt a sickening crunch beneath his heel; the weight of entire blocks crushed by his clumsy stride. Horrified, he collapsed backwards, but the descent was an act of carnage. As his backside leveled city districts, skyscrapers were swallowed by his shadow. The horizon itself began to shrink into a grainy speck as he continued to grow, a titan of unintentional ruin.

“I’m so, so sorry…” he tried to sob, but the sound was a thunderclap that shook the atmosphere.

Meanwhile Quinn lay trembling in his bed, tossing and turning as he mumbled to himself. Everything had just been a bad dream conjured up by his subconscious.

A low, distressed mumble escaped his lips a soft, incoherent string of apologies that drifted through the silent room. “No… stop…” he whimpered, his hands reaching up in the air as if trying to reach for hope. Every few seconds, a sharp shudder would rack his frame, his legs kicking out in a clumsy, frantic dance, mirroring the destructive movements of his giant self…