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Description

You wake up to the loud noise of what almost appears to be an earthquake. Your entire world shakes and jitters as your ears ring and your head pounds against walls of different textures. Everything is black. You have the distinct feeling of being shaken and tossed from a height, but you can't tell where you are. The ground stops shaking and you realize that what surrounds you is a large, dark, empty space that seems to go quite a distance. The ground beneath you is softer than concrete and tougher than a mattress. Somewhere in between.

"Help!" you cry. You hear the sound echo for a long while before it dies out. There is no reply.
"Help me!" you shout. Again, the sound echoes off into nothingness.
"Hey! I need to get back! Where am I?" you beg. Nothing.
You stand up and stumble around, reaching out and touching what feels like large, padded walls. It is hard for you to tell exactly where the wall is. You have never been good at navigating in the dark.

You take a deep breath in preparation to make another scream for it. You open your mouth, inhale-
"AGH-!"
-and immediately spit out whatever is in your mouth. You gag. The air is salty. You put a hand on the wall to steady yourself as you puke, retching and vomiting all over your hands. You cough and sputter and gag, trying to rid yourself of this horrible taste. It is utterly disgusting. It feels as if your throat is cut from the inside. It makes your entire body clench and shudder. That smell... it fills the air. Salty. Humid. Bitter. Painful.

Desperately, you start to panic. Are you being poisoned? This can't be the end. You won't accept this.
"What do you want?! Why me?! Why are you doing this to me?!" you scream.
The ground shakes again, slightly, but noticeably enough to make you fall off your feet. Your face slams against the ground, which you now realize is not only softer than you had envisioned, but also moistier.

"Because..." comes a voice from a short distance.
You sit up, rubbing your jaw. You try to see through the pitch black, but your eyes just don't seem able to adjust. You squint, attempting to make out any kind of shape or outline, but there is nothing.
And then, suddenly- a blinding flash burns your eyes, and you immediately shield them with a hand. It comes from above. It resembles sun rays infiltrating the darkness through the clouds, piercing through the nothingness. You look around, eyes still watering from the sudden brightness, and find that you are in what appears to be some sort of padded cell, that, to say the least, hasn't been cleaned in quite a while.

"Because this is how the story goes. Ethan always wins," the voice finishes.
"Where am I? Who are you? What is this?" you shout, trying to look through the light coming down from above.
And then, you see a face. Hiding the light behind its head and peering down at you. A huge blonde-haired green-eyed boy who appears to be your age. He's smiling as some of the light reflects from his enormous white teeth directly to your face.
"It is the big day today. The race. And I can't risk having you running on the track against me."
He walks closer and leans down, grabbing your right arm. He pulls and yanks you up, carrying you with his 2 fingers outside the cell. The light outside blinds you, and you squint, desperately trying to acclimate.
"But that doesn't mean you can't still enjoy the show."

You look down, catching a glimpse of the space you've just been in. It's a shoe, a gigantic Nike sneaker, Air Force 1, worn and used almost beyond recognition.
The world spins around as he lifts you higher and higher, holding you by the arm as the sunlight continues to burn your eyes. That, before the movement, all of a sudden, ceases. Held tightly by your right arm, what you see in front of you is a huge wrinkly, chunky, and even visibly soggy wall. You blink. It's not a wall. It's a foot. A sole, gigantic sole, FAR bigger than your entire body.
Your eyes widen in shock and horror, and the boy laughs.

SMACK!

Before you conceive the sight, you feel the impact. You slam against the sole in full force. It is sticky and moist and stinky, and it makes a sickening wet noise as your entire body smashes against it.
"Ahahaha~!" the boy giggles, releasing your arm. You don't slide off the foot. Instead, you stick to it like glue. You struggle, trying to get away, but the soles have an insane level of suction. A layer of sweat and moist keeps you firmly attached to the surface.
"It's not personal..." Ethan mutters as he bends down to pick a thick white sock from the ground.
"This is just... the story. Ethan always wins."

He picks up the sock, stretches the opening with his 2 fingers and delicately shoves his foot inside. It's a matter of seconds before the thick white fabric grips you tightly from behind, applying even more pressure on your body as a series of rubbery, thin, and extremely elastic strings wrap themselves around your body.
"But fear not..." he says as the foot goes down directly into his Nike sneaker, bringing you with it. You feel the somewhat soft texture of his sneaker insole against your back. Ethan ties his shoelaces together, and the pressure increases exponentially.
"...know that you died an honourable death serving as the foot cushion of the country's next Olympic champion. Good luck~!"

Darkness. Your body is firmly held in place. Even your legs and arms are kept completely immobile. Your face is locked up, squeezed against Ethan's foot arch. As he stands up, you realize the almost perfect arch in Ethan's foot structure is the only thing keeping you alive, preventing your head from being crushed by the weight of his body.

You can't help but wail, scream and cry, beg and squirm as pressure from the sneaker keeps increasing. There's no oxygen in the shoe, and you quickly start gasping for air, which only worsens the situation. Only the slightest amount of air reaches you - filtered by the tiny holes in Ethan's sneaker, the openings between the fibers of his sock, and the tiny spaces between his toes.

You hold your breath, you gag, you cry, but your body betrays you as the need for air prevails. You breathe in through your nose and you feel as if your throat is cut open, the horribly salty and bitter scent filling your lungs and invading every inch of your body. You try to gag, you try to let the gas out - but your lips are held shut by the wrinkles on his foot. The sweat on the surface makes it easy for them to stick to his skin, effectively gluing your lips to his sole.

BOOM!

Ethan starts the race, and the first step brings the biggest wave of pressure yet. Your body is completely smothered against the bottom of his shoe, Ethan's sock keeping you in position. Sweat slides down from his toes directly to your face, and you desperately squirm, trying to move your head to the side. You fail miserably. You breathe in and taste Ethan's horrible salty and bittersweet musk as his toe jam and dead skin slide down across his sole, and are slowly but constantly pushed down your throat.

BANG!

The second step. Your body is slammed against Ethan's sole. You cough, gurgling sounds coming out from your mouth. What you feel is not just the weight of Ethan's body, not only the compression of the entire sneaker and sock, but also the incredible force of Ethan's foot slamming against the ground after being in the air.

BOOM!

A munch sound comes from your ribs. Ethan's foot crushes you against the insole of his sneaker, and some of your ribs crack from the pressure. Your body slightly changes shape and volume, bulging and sinking in certain areas from the extreme force.

BANG!

Your nose breaks, the bones in your face turning to dust as you're smashed in a force you've never felt on your body before. It's a piston, a battering ram, a wrecking ball. Every step Ethan takes is an absolute disaster for you.

BOOM!

Your arm snaps against Ethan's shoe, and you feel a tearing sensation coming from your shoulder. Some muscles rip and tear from the impact. Blood fills the tiny cavities where you're kept, but instantly gets mixed with the sweat, creating a disgusting pink mixture.

BANG!

One by one, your ribs snap. They crack and bend and fold, your body changing shape again and again. You're still locked in place, but you feel smaller. Perhaps because of Ethan's foot that's compressing your bones and organs.

BOOM!

Crushed. Broken. Slammed. Smashed. Compressed. Squished. Twisted. Ethan runs at the speed of a cheetah, each step causing a cataclysm for you. Your muscles rip from their bones, and some blood flows through the fabric of Ethan's sock and sneaker, trickling out, visible in the outer world.

BOOM! BANG! BOOM! BANG! BOOM!-

Years pass. Decades, even. Maybe more. Really? No. At 4 steps per second, all that you've been through until now is really just slightly less than 10 seconds. 9.7 seconds, to be exact, until Ethan reaches the finish line of the 100m race. He's first by a par, breaking his country's record and proving the Nike slogan absolutely true.

"Huff.. Huff.. That was intense..", he says, raising his fist in the air. The crowd cheers and applauds. Ethan smiles, posing for the cameras. For less than a second, his eyes hover on his right sneaker, now a bit red from below. He smirks as he feels your weak, frail breathes against his his sole, then looks back to the public, and...

SPLAT!

...stomps his foot against a nearby rock with all his might, posing to the camera. The crowd goes nuts. The rock shatters into a thousand pieces. And so does your body.
"Ethan always wins..."

Description

You wake up to the loud noise of what almost appears to be an earthquake. Your entire world shakes and jitters as your ears ring and your head pounds against walls of different textures. Everything is black. You have the distinct feeling of being shaken and tossed from a height, but you can't tell where you are. The ground stops shaking and you realize that what surrounds you is a large, dark, empty space that seems to go quite a distance. The ground beneath you is softer than concrete and tougher than a mattress. Somewhere in between.

"Help!" you cry. You hear the sound echo for a long while before it dies out. There is no reply.
"Help me!" you shout. Again, the sound echoes off into nothingness.
"Hey! I need to get back! Where am I?" you beg. Nothing.
You stand up and stumble around, reaching out and touching what feels like large, padded walls. It is hard for you to tell exactly where the wall is. You have never been good at navigating in the dark.

You take a deep breath in preparation to make another scream for it. You open your mouth, inhale-
"AGH-!"
-and immediately spit out whatever is in your mouth. You gag. The air is salty. You put a hand on the wall to steady yourself as you puke, retching and vomiting all over your hands. You cough and sputter and gag, trying to rid yourself of this horrible taste. It is utterly disgusting. It feels as if your throat is cut from the inside. It makes your entire body clench and shudder. That smell... it fills the air. Salty. Humid. Bitter. Painful.

Desperately, you start to panic. Are you being poisoned? This can't be the end. You won't accept this.
"What do you want?! Why me?! Why are you doing this to me?!" you scream.
The ground shakes again, slightly, but noticeably enough to make you fall off your feet. Your face slams against the ground, which you now realize is not only softer than you had envisioned, but also moistier.

"Because..." comes a voice from a short distance.
You sit up, rubbing your jaw. You try to see through the pitch black, but your eyes just don't seem able to adjust. You squint, attempting to make out any kind of shape or outline, but there is nothing.
And then, suddenly- a blinding flash burns your eyes, and you immediately shield them with a hand. It comes from above. It resembles sun rays infiltrating the darkness through the clouds, piercing through the nothingness. You look around, eyes still watering from the sudden brightness, and find that you are in what appears to be some sort of padded cell, that, to say the least, hasn't been cleaned in quite a while.

"Because this is how the story goes. Ethan always wins," the voice finishes.
"Where am I? Who are you? What is this?" you shout, trying to look through the light coming down from above.
And then, you see a face. Hiding the light behind its head and peering down at you. A huge blonde-haired green-eyed boy who appears to be your age. He's smiling as some of the light reflects from his enormous white teeth directly to your face.
"It is the big day today. The race. And I can't risk having you running on the track against me."
He walks closer and leans down, grabbing your right arm. He pulls and yanks you up, carrying you with his 2 fingers outside the cell. The light outside blinds you, and you squint, desperately trying to acclimate.
"But that doesn't mean you can't still enjoy the show."

You look down, catching a glimpse of the space you've just been in. It's a shoe, a gigantic Nike sneaker, Air Force 1, worn and used almost beyond recognition.
The world spins around as he lifts you higher and higher, holding you by the arm as the sunlight continues to burn your eyes. That, before the movement, all of a sudden, ceases. Held tightly by your right arm, what you see in front of you is a huge wrinkly, chunky, and even visibly soggy wall. You blink. It's not a wall. It's a foot. A sole, gigantic sole, FAR bigger than your entire body.
Your eyes widen in shock and horror, and the boy laughs.

SMACK!

Before you conceive the sight, you feel the impact. You slam against the sole in full force. It is sticky and moist and stinky, and it makes a sickening wet noise as your entire body smashes against it.
"Ahahaha~!" the boy giggles, releasing your arm. You don't slide off the foot. Instead, you stick to it like glue. You struggle, trying to get away, but the soles have an insane level of suction. A layer of sweat and moist keeps you firmly attached to the surface.
"It's not personal..." Ethan mutters as he bends down to pick a thick white sock from the ground.
"This is just... the story. Ethan always wins."

He picks up the sock, stretches the opening with his 2 fingers and delicately shoves his foot inside. It's a matter of seconds before the thick white fabric grips you tightly from behind, applying even more pressure on your body as a series of rubbery, thin, and extremely elastic strings wrap themselves around your body.
"But fear not..." he says as the foot goes down directly into his Nike sneaker, bringing you with it. You feel the somewhat soft texture of his sneaker insole against your back. Ethan ties his shoelaces together, and the pressure increases exponentially.
"...know that you died an honourable death serving as the foot cushion of the country's next Olympic champion. Good luck~!"

Darkness. Your body is firmly held in place. Even your legs and arms are kept completely immobile. Your face is locked up, squeezed against Ethan's foot arch. As he stands up, you realize the almost perfect arch in Ethan's foot structure is the only thing keeping you alive, preventing your head from being crushed by the weight of his body.

You can't help but wail, scream and cry, beg and squirm as pressure from the sneaker keeps increasing. There's no oxygen in the shoe, and you quickly start gasping for air, which only worsens the situation. Only the slightest amount of air reaches you - filtered by the tiny holes in Ethan's sneaker, the openings between the fibers of his sock, and the tiny spaces between his toes.

You hold your breath, you gag, you cry, but your body betrays you as the need for air prevails. You breathe in through your nose and you feel as if your throat is cut open, the horribly salty and bitter scent filling your lungs and invading every inch of your body. You try to gag, you try to let the gas out - but your lips are held shut by the wrinkles on his foot. The sweat on the surface makes it easy for them to stick to his skin, effectively gluing your lips to his sole.

BOOM!

Ethan starts the race, and the first step brings the biggest wave of pressure yet. Your body is completely smothered against the bottom of his shoe, Ethan's sock keeping you in position. Sweat slides down from his toes directly to your face, and you desperately squirm, trying to move your head to the side. You fail miserably. You breathe in and taste Ethan's horrible salty and bittersweet musk as his toe jam and dead skin slide down across his sole, and are slowly but constantly pushed down your throat.

BANG!

The second step. Your body is slammed against Ethan's sole. You cough, gurgling sounds coming out from your mouth. What you feel is not just the weight of Ethan's body, not only the compression of the entire sneaker and sock, but also the incredible force of Ethan's foot slamming against the ground after being in the air.

BOOM!

A munch sound comes from your ribs. Ethan's foot crushes you against the insole of his sneaker, and some of your ribs crack from the pressure. Your body slightly changes shape and volume, bulging and sinking in certain areas from the extreme force.

BANG!

Your nose breaks, the bones in your face turning to dust as you're smashed in a force you've never felt on your body before. It's a piston, a battering ram, a wrecking ball. Every step Ethan takes is an absolute disaster for you.

BOOM!

Your arm snaps against Ethan's shoe, and you feel a tearing sensation coming from your shoulder. Some muscles rip and tear from the impact. Blood fills the tiny cavities where you're kept, but instantly gets mixed with the sweat, creating a disgusting pink mixture.

BANG!

One by one, your ribs snap. They crack and bend and fold, your body changing shape again and again. You're still locked in place, but you feel smaller. Perhaps because of Ethan's foot that's compressing your bones and organs.

BOOM!

Crushed. Broken. Slammed. Smashed. Compressed. Squished. Twisted. Ethan runs at the speed of a cheetah, each step causing a cataclysm for you. Your muscles rip from their bones, and some blood flows through the fabric of Ethan's sock and sneaker, trickling out, visible in the outer world.

BOOM! BANG! BOOM! BANG! BOOM!-

Years pass. Decades, even. Maybe more. Really? No. At 4 steps per second, all that you've been through until now is really just slightly less than 10 seconds. 9.7 seconds, to be exact, until Ethan reaches the finish line of the 100m race. He's first by a par, breaking his country's record and proving the Nike slogan absolutely true.

"Huff.. Huff.. That was intense..", he says, raising his fist in the air. The crowd cheers and applauds. Ethan smiles, posing for the cameras. For less than a second, his eyes hover on his right sneaker, now a bit red from below. He smirks as he feels your weak, frail breathes against his his sole, then looks back to the public, and...

SPLAT!

...stomps his foot against a nearby rock with all his might, posing to the camera. The crowd goes nuts. The rock shatters into a thousand pieces. And so does your body.
"Ethan always wins..."