author: Doom
The time that the giantess spends searching the desktops and drawers of the office seems like an age, but your watch tells you that it is but a minute. Angry feet pace back and forth, the thunderous cacophony obviously matching the mood of their owner, as you can make out a distant barrage of cursing far above.
Then, the moment that you feared arrives. With a single flawless motion, belying the size and power of the behemoth, Seitzman drops to one knee, bone pounding against floor with a dull rumble. She begins checking under the bottom of the tables, eyes flashing like searchlights.
All too soon, her gaze settles upon your hiding place. You aren't sure how long you stand transfixed, eye to eye with the titan, but it is long enough for you to register the cruel delight playing in the depths of her pupils.
Dropping to all fours - her stance announced by an earthquake unrivaled by any quadruped in nature - she drags herself forwards, each impact of her limbs a tolling bell of doom. You don't need any more prompting, and turn to run.
Of course, there's only so far that you can go. Eventually the wall, or to be more precise the skirting board, blocks your progress. Fortunately, Seitzman's arms don't quite extend the entire width of the desk, and her bulky fingers - each tipped with a polished, gleaming talon that could easily cut you in half - clutch futilely at air.
She doesn't bother to try and entice you out, not that you expected the moody bitch to. She retracts her arm, stands up again, and goes for the simplest solution to her problem.
She's going to move the desk - your sanctuary - out of the way. Clever girl.
With the barest application of her prodigious strength, the giantess moves the furniture aside, exposing you to the elements, leaving you vulnerable.
But you're already running, sprinting for the door, hoping that you can get away.
"There is no escape," the spy roars, and you hear one of her feet launch off from its resting place, moving to intercept you.