A Day with Sister Kayla: or, in the grip of Gothzilla Tiny Terry chapter 2 by KoroKoroAi

Terry was still trying to scrape the last of the maple syrup off his arms when a shadow fell over him. It wasn’t the warm, perfumed shadow of his mom, nor was it the sweet, pink-hued one of Hazel. This shadow was cool and sharp, and smelled of leather and black cherry lip gloss.

Before he could even look up, the world vanished in a cage of black.

Long, slender fingers, tipped with that deep swirly black and blood-red polish, closed around him. They weren’t gentle like Mom’s or Hazel’s. They were firm, possessive, squeezing more than a bit too tight. The pressure made his tiny ribs creak. He was yanked off the table, and his vision was filled entirely with Kayla’s pale, gothic, unimpressed face.

Her dark-lined eyes peered at him, magnified to terrifying proportions. Her black-painted lips were pursed in a smirk. “Alright, dust bunny. Fun’s over.”

“Kaylaaaa!” Hazel’s voice was a sharp, jealous. “You’re squeezing him!”

“He’s fine. They’re squishy,” Kayla said, in her usual bored monotone. She lifted him higher, bringing him level with her eyes. Terry dangled, helpless, his feet kicking at empty air. “We’ve got plans today. Remember?”

Terry did not remember. A cold dread started to pool in his stomach, unrelated to the pancake.

“Plans? What plans?” Hazel demanded. Terry could see her now, a giantess in pink, her hands on her hips, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. “Terry and I were going to have a tea party later! I got a new tiny teacup set!”

Kayla rolled her eyes, a massive, dramatic gesture. “Sorry, princess. He’s mine today. It’s my turn. Right, Mom?”

Jenna’s face, soft and smiling, appeared over Kayla’s shoulder. She looked genuinely touched. “Oh, you two! I’m so glad you’re finally getting along! Sibling bonding is so important.” She reached out and stroked Terry’s back with a fingertip, nearly knocking the wind out of him combined with Kayla’s grip. “You have a wonderful day with your sister, sweetie. Listen to her!”

Terry wanted to scream. We’re not bonding! She’s probably going to use me as a temporary tattoo stencil or drop me in her black hair dye!

But his protests were just tiny squeaks, he could barely breathe in Kayla’s grip.

Hazel looked like she was about to cry. “But I wanted to play with him! It’s not fair! You’re always so mean to him. I just want to love him!”

“Tough,” Kayla said, turning away. She tucked Terry into her fist, plunging him into a warm, dark prison. “We’re getting ready to leave.”

The world became a chaotic, jostling ride. The thunder of Kayla’s footsteps vibrated through her hand and into his bones. He was carried through the house, up the stairs - each step a minor earthquake - and finally into the dense, incense-heavy atmosphere of her bedroom.

The fist opened, and she dumped him unceremoniously onto her nightstand. He landed on a hard surface next to a massive, skull-shaped ring holder. Everything in the room was a devotion to black. Black bedding, black posters of bands with unreadable logos, black lace curtains. It smelled like perfume and candles.

Kayla loomed over him, leaning her elbows on the nightstand, her face once again filling his entire world. “Okay, listen up, speck. We’re going out. And you’re going to be on your best behavior.”

“Where?” Terry managed to squeak out, pushing himself up onto his knees.

A cruel, slow smile spread across Kayla’s black lips. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you forgot.” She leaned in even closer, her breath washing over him like a warm, unpleasant and ominous wind. Her voice dropped to a mocking tone. “I'm practically only taking you because Mom begged me to. It's not like I want you to come with me, pipsqueak. I'm going to...”