You continued to climb, each movement requiring all your strength and concentration. The fabric of Daisy's pants provided some grip, but every shift of her weight sent you swaying precariously. Determined to reach her waist, you ignored the burning in your muscles and the fear gnawing at the back of your mind.
As you reached the top of her pants, you found yourself gripping the edge of her belt. You peered up, Daisy's focused expression filling you with a renewed sense of urgency. "Daisy! Look down here!" you shouted, your tiny voice still too faint to reach her ears.
Then, without warning, she moved again. Daisy reached for a nearby table, leaning over slightly to grab a tablet. The sudden shift in her posture caused you to lose your grip, and you tumbled down, flailing in the air. You landed on a hard surface, the impact jarring but not as severe as your earlier fall. Dazed, you realized you had fallen into a small dish of food she had placed on the table—a simple salad she had prepared for a quick snack.
The leafy greens and colorful vegetables surrounded you, creating a bizarre and somewhat surreal landscape. The tangy scent of vinaigrette filled your nostrils, mingling with the earthy aroma of fresh vegetables. You pushed yourself up, wiping the dressing from your face and trying to orient yourself in this new environment.
As you looked up, you saw Daisy's massive form standing over the table. She reached down, picking up a fork and taking a seat. The vibrations from her movements shook the dish, and you stumbled, realizing the precariousness of your situation. You had to get out of the salad before she started eating.
"Daisy! Down here!" you screamed again, but your tiny voice was lost in the vast space between you. She picked up the fork and speared a piece of lettuce, her eyes focused on the data on the tablet in front of her. Each motion was deliberate, yet to you, it felt like the actions of a giant, each movement a potential disaster.
You tried to climb onto a piece of cucumber, hoping to elevate yourself enough to be seen. The slick surface made it difficult, and you slipped several times, the dressing making everything slippery. Desperation grew as you saw Daisy's fork moving closer to your location. The metal prongs descended, spearing another piece of lettuce nearby. The force shook the dish, and you lost your grip, sliding down into a pool of dressing.
Before you could react, the fork was above you, scooping up a mix of greens, tomatoes, and dressing. You were caught up in the pile, the pressure of the food around you squeezing tightly. You struggled, but the movements only tangled you further in the leafy greens. You were lifted high into the air, the world a blur as Daisy brought the fork to her mouth.
The heat and humidity of her breath washed over you, and the sound of her chewing filled your ears like distant thunder. You were so close to her face now, you could see every detail of her expression as she focused on her work, completely unaware of your plight. The fork tilted, and you were caught in the mix of food being deposited into her mouth.
You slid off the fork and onto her tongue, the warm, moist surface a stark contrast to the cold dressing. The smell of vinaigrette and the earthy taste of vegetables filled your senses as you were moved around by her tongue. Panic surged through you as you realized where you were. You had to get her attention, but how?
Your attempts to shout were muffled by the walls of her mouth. You were pushed against her teeth, the pressure immense. The sensation of being moved around by her tongue was disorienting and terrifying. You felt yourself being pushed to the side, and then her teeth came down, narrowly missing you as she chewed the food around you.
You struggled to maintain your position, but the force of her chewing was relentless. The masticated food was pushed to the back of her mouth, and you felt yourself being moved along with it. The powerful muscles of her throat contracted, and with a final, desperate effort, you tried to cling to the surface of her tongue.
It was no use. With a gulp, you were swallowed, the tight, muscular walls of her esophagus pulling you down. The journey was swift, the rhythmic contractions of her swallowing muscles propelling you deeper into darkness. The air grew warmer and more humid, and the sounds around you were muted yet thunderous, like the echo of distant machinery.
You landed in her stomach with a splash, the acidic environment immediately stinging your skin. The smell was overpowering—a mixture of bile, partially digested food, and stomach acid. The reality of your situation hit you hard as you tried to find a way to stay afloat in the churning sea of digestive juices.
Daisy, unaware of the tiny tragedy that had just occurred, continued with her routine, moving across the lab with purpose. To her, the lab was a place of precision and control, but for you, it had become a landscape of peril and pain. As she carried on with her work, you struggled to survive in her stomach, a tiny, unnoticed casualty in the vastness of the S.H.I.E.L.D. lab.
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