Just a Sniff is all it Took Surviving on Short Notice chapter 12 by deleted_user

You wake up as per usual, perched atop a green leaf blade. You're hardly a millimeter now, and your life has quickly been bounded to this house plant. You find that your body doesn't require as much energy as it used to, and you can go weeks without food or water. As you start to get ready for the day, you soon notice a dark and ominous shadow growing in the sky above you. You turn around just in time to see... Penny again???

The tabby cat's colossal form slinks into view like a living mountain range, her fur a rippling sea of orange and white stripes that blocks out the morning light filtering through the living room windows. It's been a month since your last near-fatal encounter with her, and in that time, you've shrunk even further—uncontrollably, inexorably—your body betraying you as the lingering effects of Dr. Wright's gas whittle you down to near-microscopic insignificance. The house plant has become your entire world: a jungle of waxy leaves and fibrous stems, where dew drops are lakes and aphids are monstrous beasts you avoid at all costs. But Penny? She's the apex predator, the unknowable god of this domain, and her sudden appearance sends a primal terror surging through your tiny frame.

She pads along the edge of the couch first, her paws thudding against the carpet with earthquake-like force that vibrates up through the side table and into your leafy perch. Each step is a boom that rattles your bones, but it's when she turns, circling lazily around the plant's base, that the true horror unfolds. Penny's tail flicks upward in curiosity, and as she twists her body to inspect the table from a new angle, her hindquarters rise into your line of sight—an impossible, grotesque display that dominates the horizon like a pair of fleshy monoliths.

Her anus and vulva loom before you, exposed in all their unaware, animalistic vulgarity. At your scale, they're not just anatomical features; they're landscapes of terror. The puckered ring of her anus is a cavernous abyss, ringed by coarse fur matted with the faint residue of her daily indifference—dark, wrinkled folds that pulse subtly with her breathing, exuding a musky, earthy stench that wafts up like a toxic fog, choking the air around your plant. Below it, her vulva gapes slightly, a slick, pinkish slit framed by swollen lips that glisten with natural moisture, the folds intricate and labyrinthine, capable of engulfing worlds. Stray hairs curl around the edges like ancient vines, and the sheer scale of it all—the heat radiating off her skin, the faint twitch of muscles as she shifts—makes you freeze in place, your mind reeling from the humiliating, brutal intimacy of it. This is no predator's weapon; it's the casual underbelly of a house cat, magnified to apocalyptic proportions, a reminder of how utterly reduced you are, how your existence has devolved into dodging the most base elements of the world you once ruled.

Penny doesn't notice you, of course. To her, you're less than a speck, an invisible nothing in her domain. She completes her circuit around the plant, her massive form brushing the table's edge and sending a tremor that nearly knocks you from your leaf. The shadow deepens as she rears up slightly, her front paws planting on the couch for leverage, and then—curiosity piqued by some faint scent or movement—she lowers her head toward the plant. Her face descends like a falling sky, those black pupils dilating into voids that could swallow stars, her whiskers twitching like steel cables.

You try to run, scrambling along the leaf's vein toward the stem, but it's futile. The air pressure shifts as her nose—wet, black, and gleaming like a boulder slicked with dew—hovers inches away in giant-scale, which to you is a chasm-spanning distance closing fast. The nostril flares, each one a cavernous tunnel rimmed with vibrating hairs, and she sniffs. The inhalation is a hurricane, a vortex of wind that rips at your body, pulling leaves and dust motes alike into its maw. You're yanked off the leaf in an instant, your screams lost in the roar of air as you're hurled toward that glistening, quivering nose.

Impact comes with brutal finality. You slam against the wet surface of her nostril, the flesh yielding just enough to crush you flat without immediate obliteration—your enhanced durability from the supplements holding out in a cruel twist of irony. It's like being pressed between two steaming pillows of mucus-coated skin: warm, slimy, and unyielding. The pressure builds as the sniff deepens, your body grinding against the ridged interior, bones cracking like twigs under the relentless force. Pain explodes through you—ribs splintering, skin tearing—as you're smeared across the damp membrane, your tiny form mangled into a pulp of blood and tissue. The world blurs into a red haze of agony, the cat's breath a fetid gale that burns your lungs, but death doesn't claim you yet. No, fate is more sadistic.

With the next inhale, you're sucked deeper, pulled into the dark tunnel of her nostril. The walls close in, lined with sticky mucus that traps you like flypaper, entombing your broken body in a viscous prison. Hairs whip past, snagging at your limbs, tearing flesh as you're dragged further into the humid abyss. The mucus engulfs you—thick, yellow-green ooze that floods your mouth and eyes, drowning you in its salty, acrid grip. You twitch feebly, your crushed form convulsing in the final throes, but there's no escape. Penny sneezes once, a minor irritation, expelling a spray of snot onto the carpet below, but you're too deep, too embedded. Entombed alive in the cat's unaware nasal cavity, your consciousness fades amid the gurgling darkness, the rhythmic pulse of her breathing your eternal dirge.

Penny shakes her head, disinterested now, and leaps down from the couch, padding away to chase some phantom toy. Your family stirs awake in the other rooms, oblivious to the brutal end of their "missing" loved one, reduced to nothing more than a forgotten speck in the mucus of their pet. The house plant sways gently in the breeze from the AC, empty now, your nightmare finally, mercifully over...