Kamala Khan: Underfoot

Kamala Khan had just turned eighteen. With this accomplishment came a later curfew from her parents, Muneeba and Yusuf. Of course, if they knew what she was planning on using her new curfew for, they would not have been so quick to allow it. Kamala Khan was an Inhuman and after being exposed to the Terrigan Bomb, evolved her polymorphic powers. In short: she could stretch her body to an extreme degree, which also made her incredibly durable.

She adopted the superhero name Ms Marvel, paying homage to her idol, Captain Marvel. And now that she would be allowed to stay out past midnight, she intended to use her powers to make her neighborhood safe, modeled after the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman she had heard so much about.

Tonight was the night, and she carefully concealed her Ms Marvel costume under her clothing and was excitedly heading out the door, under the guise of going to a concert with her friends from school.

“Kamala!” Muneeba shouted as Kamala bumped into her on the way past. “Be careful, you’re always underfoot!”

“Sorry mama,” Kamala shouted back as she hopped on one foot, pulling her shoe on as she went.

“Catch!” Aamir, Kamala’s brother shouted from across the room.

Kamala didn’t see it, but he had thrown something her way. Kamala reacted quickly, catching what he had thrown. Only when it hit her hand, did she realize that it was Aamir’s balled-up sock.

“Ew! Gross!” Kamala spit, dropping the sock and shaking her hand as if that would remove the grime and stink from her skin. “That’s disgusting, Aamir!”

Her brother just laughed and walked off, though he returned quickly, having been scolded by their mother for leaving his dirty socks on the floor. Kamala stuck her tongue out at him, gloating over him getting in trouble.

“Alright, mama,” Kamala called out. “I’m going out, I’ll be back later!”

“Don’t forget, you are in this house by one AM, no later!” Muneeba shouted back.

“I won’t forget mama,” Kamala practically bounced out the door, her excitement over her first real patrol as Ms Marvel propelled her forward.

Several hours later, the sun had fallen and Kamala found herself standing on the roof of a Jersey City bodega just waiting. Her excitement had worn off quickly when nothing happened. She had been wandering the city for hours and had not seen a single crime to intervene on.

But then she heard the screech of tires from the street below. Kamala stepped up to the edge of the roof, searching for the source of the sound. A moment later, an armored truck squealed around the corner, clearly going faster than the speed limit. That and the fact that it was serving all over the road screamed to Kamala that it was in trouble. The teenager practically squealed in delight. Finally some action!

Kamala didn’t see the truck’s pursuer, so she prepared herself, coiling her body like a spring, ready to leap down and confront whatever villain it was. She didn’t have to wait long. A figure rounded the corner, indistinct in the darkness. Kamala guessed that it was a woman, by the silhouette of long hair and what looked like a dress or a long jacket.

The villain was flying, hovering a few feet off the street, leaning forward with her momentum. She was coming quickly, so Kamala didn’t have much time to react. With her heart pumping furiously, she leapt off the building, stretching her arm backward in a massive wind-up. Throwing her weight forward, Kamala sent her enlarged fist at the villain, striking her hard and sending her careening across the street, sliding along the concrete coming to a stop under a street light.

Kamala landed in the street, her stretchy body taking the impact of her fall. She stood tall, taking up a readied pose against the villain.

“You won’t be robbing any…” Kamala started to say, but her voice caught in her throat when the villain looked up at her, revealing who it was. Kamala whimpered aloud and took a step back, recognizing Wanda Maximov, the Scarlet Witch herself staring her down, her eyes shooting daggers at the young woman.

Wanda raised her hand with a scream, sending a bolt of red chaos magic flashing across the street. The magic struck Kamala, the impact of the magic warped her body like it was made of rubber. Kamala got the feeling that the blast would have killed her if it were not for her power.

Kamala recovered quickly, bringing her attention back to the witch. Though to Kamala’s surprise, Wanda was now only a few feet in front of her, floating above the street. She stumbled back a step, gasping audibly.

“Inhuman, interesting…” Wanda muttered under her breath.

Terror gripped Kamala, she knew this enemy was too strong for her, but she was stuck in it now. Desperately, she tried to swing another fist at the witch.

Wanda simply flicked her left hand, causing red chaos magic to grip Kamala’s right hand, stretching her arm twenty feet behind her and causing her wrist to wrap around a light pole, trying itself into a knot in an instant. Kamala yelped, but before she could even begin to react, Wanda did the same with her left, causing her body to slingshot backward until she was suspended between the two light posts.

Her arms were stretched over sixty feet apart, further than she ever managed to accomplish during her ‘training.’ Despite her power, she was in pain, the stretch was simply too much for her. She whimpered, trying in vain to free her arms. In an instant, Wanda closed the gap, appearing to almost teleport rather than fly.

Kamala tried to speak, to beg Wanda to let her go. But before she could even form words, Wanda flicked her fingers, silencing the young woman. Kamala felt the skin in her throat crawl as if her very biology was changing. Somehow she knew that Wanda had removed her vocal cords completely, rendering her incapable of speech.

“Who even are you?” Wanda hissed under her breath, reaching her hand out Kamala, pressing her palm against the teenager’s temple. “And what shall I do with you?”

Kamala’s world went dark, and images of her life flashed before her mind’s eye. Memories of her childhood, birthdays, and even her most embarrassing moments, ripped through her skull like a movie on fast forward. The image of her brother’s socks from earlier in the evening flashed by, followed closely by her mother’s words.

“You let the Gem of Eternity slip from my grasp,” Wanda hissed. “And for that, Kamala Khan, you will be…” Wanda’s lip curled into an evil smile. “Always underfoot…”

Kamala’s world spun, Wanda’s magic engulfing her and warping her body, seemingly using her flexible powers against her. With her vocal cords now gone, she couldn’t even scream. After a moment of confusing sensations, Kamala was floating above the street, held aloft by Wanda’s magic, her body impossibly contorted as if tied in knots.

Then, with a snap, Wanda was gone, the street was gone and Kamala was left in mostly darkness, only a small amount of dim light coming from near her feet. It was like she was standing in a closet with the door closed, light streaming in from underneath the door, but she could vaguely tell that she was laying on her back…

Wanda’s voice echoed in her head: “Your body has been reshaped. You are still you in every sense, you can see, hear, feel, smell and taste. You still look like you, your head and torso exposed to the world, your arms and legs folded up underneath you. But no one will ever recognize you. They may see you, your familiar face and body, but they will never think anything of it. To them, you are nothing. Don’t worry about your family, you will still be close to them. As a ‘Marvelous Insole,’ you will be worn by your mother, as you currently reside in her favorite pair of shoes. No one will even miss you, I’ve created a simulacrum to take your place. She will look like you and talk like you. No one will come looking for you. Only I know anything even happened to you, and I will never come to save you…”

Kamala sobbed in her mind, unable to comprehend her new reality. In the recent past, when she was exploring her powers she had ended up in some pretty disorienting positions, but never something like this. She had even got herself stuck a few times where she overstretched and had a hard time getting herself free. But it was never like this. It felt like those times, but her body refused to respond to her command. Whatever magic the witch used was complete and inescapable.

Hours passed with her in darkness before she heard voices. At first it was her mom and dad, always the first ones awake, though she couldn’t fully make out what they were saying. Kamala tried to scream, to call out to them for rescue, but she still had no voice.

“Kamala!” Muneeba shouted, raising Kamala’s hopes. Maybe she recognized her daughter inside of her shoe! Though the next voice sent a chill through her.

“What do you want?” Kamala heard her own voice snap at her mother. Wanda really had left a facsimile!

“Your father stayed up for you last night!” Muneeba continued to chastise her fake daughter. “You didn’t come in until almost three in the morning! Do that again and you’re grounded!”

“Oh leave me alone, mama. I’m an adult now!” Fake Kamala snapped back.

Kamala couldn’t follow the rest of the exchange. The reality of her situation fell down on her hard, solidifying the words Wanda uttered. She really was nothing more than an insole, and there really was a simulacrum of her left behind to ruin her life by being a complete asshole to her family and everyone else.

But then her mind was pulled to more immediate concerns. A shadow passed over the small amount of light that fell into her prison. Her mother’s voice was closer, booming over the trapped girl.

Kamala tried again to call out to her, desperately trying to move to somehow get her mother’s attention. Nothing happened. Every time she tried to move or speak, she could feel the witch’s magic fighting her, pressing her back into shape. Only when she relaxed and accepted her fate did the uncomfortable press of the spell subside for a moment.

The world went dark, and a warm, damp feeling came over her. A giant sock-clad foot was sliding into the shoe! Kamala could feel it even before it touched her, the heat radiating from her mother’s body. Time seemed to slow down as the foot pressed its way into her space. The massive toes touched first, hitting Kamala in the midsection, pressing into her and taking the wind out of her. Then the toes moved up her body, squeezing her chest and continuing toward her face.

By now, Kamala was in total darkness, the giant foot and sock blocking the faint light completely. The would-be superhero panicked and tried to move her face away from the impending crush of her mother’s foot. Though it was all to no effect, the toes pressed her chin, the smell of sock and dirty foot assaulting her senses. Then her mouth was covered, her closed mouth not fully blocking the flavor of the sock from reaching her. Next it was her nose, which despite being as flat as the rest of her body, still seemed to squeeze down into her face like when she pressed against the window of the candy shop when she was a kid. Kamala knew what was coming and tried to close her eyes against the coming press. But just like everything else she tried, there was no effect. Her eyes were flattened further when the rough texture of the sock slid over them.

Kamala almost didn’t even feel the heel dropping down onto what used to be her feet, such was the discomfort of everything else. Her mother’s foot filling the entire space left Kamala with no room to herself. Her stretchy body was squashed down into the bottom of the shoe, her entire form feeling like it was flat as a sheet of paper. Worse yet was that the foot never seemed to sit still. The toes wiggled, and the pressure of the ball and heel shifted as Muneeba’s weight shifted to keep her balance.

For a moment, the weight lifted, but it was replaced by the sensation of being launched through the air, almost like that first big drop on a rollercoaster, unexpected and terrifying. But then in an instant, the pressure was back, but so much worse this time as Muneeba’s foot came down hard. Kamala was in her own personal hell, the heat and oppressive moisture almost as bad as the weight. And knowing that it was her own mother doing this to her was the worst part of it all.

She lifted again, thrown through the air in another step. Then again crushed. The cycle repeated, every step causing it to start over again. The worst part was that it wasn’t perfectly consistent. Sometimes the step was shorter and the crushing weight landed early as if she was going up stairs. Other times, the step was long, the anticipation of the landing that much worse, but still no less of a surprise when it landed. Still other times, her step would land at an angle, like she was stepping around a corner.

The effect was a constant stress on Kamala, either a physical stress of being stepped on, or the painful anticipation of the next step. She couldn’t tell which was worse. Muneeba had a job that kept her on her feet for long periods of time, and Kamala knew that. So the knowledge of what was coming haunted her at every moment.

Time passed slowly for her, and when Kamala thought and hoped the day was almost over, it had only been two hours since she was first put on. No matter how many steps Muneeba took, Kamala could never get used to the motion. There was nothing predictable at all. Occasionally, the steps would stop and the pressure removed, presumably when her mother was sitting down. Though even then, the occasional change of position caught Kamala off guard.

During one of these breaks, Kamala was allowed to get her bearings. Without the constant movement and weight, she was given the opportunity to realize just how bad everything else was. The damp buildup had gotten so bad that it almost felt like it was going to ooze out of her when she was stepped on, like she was a thick towel that was soaked completely through. 

It was hard to tell with her entire face pressed under the giant toes, but the smell of dirty sock permeated through her, clinging to her body like a second skin. It was as if Kamala had just finished an intense workout and was forced to crawl into a tight sleeping bag without being allowed to shower first.

Muneeba’s foot twitched, nearly making Kamala jump out of her skin, ready for another round of crushing steps. But nothing else happened. She was just adjusting her toes inside Kamala’s prison. In the stillness that followed, Kamala felt tight, poised, completely unable to fully relax knowing that at any moment, the torture could start over again.

Twice more Muneeba shifted position, unwittingly sending panic through her daughter. By now Kamala was practically weeping, the anticipation too strong for her bear. She tried desperately to calm herself and take solace in the fact that she wasn’t actively being stepped on, but it was no use. Every time she made some amount of progress, Kamala’s mother would move just enough to make her think she was going to stand up.

And then it happened, Muneeba stood, Kamala’s mind spinning into panic as her full weight came down yet again. And it was somehow even worse than before, like her entire body had been bruised, which made every successive step hurt that much more.

The constant, uneven, unpredictable pattern was somehow so much worse now that Kamala had adjusted to the feeling of sitting still. Somehow it got into her mind that the smell, heat and damp feeling was all there was, so now that she was again being crushed, she was quickly overwhelmed. This time, she lost all semblance of time and self. Her existence was nothing other than heat, pain and the frantic, unpredictable movement.

Kamala was a shell of herself, any composure she may have had was gone. Panic took her and she struggled with every fiber of her flattened being to scream out, move, or otherwise get her mother’s attention so this hell could finally end. The only coherent thought that broke through the mess of her overwhelmed mind was first to curse Wanda, then pivot immediately to beg her for forgiveness and mercy, hoping that the Scarlet Witch could hear her thoughts through the spell.

At that moment, across the country, Wanda smiled to herself, her mind wandering to the foolish girl who dared challenge her the day before. The spell did not connect them at all, Wanda had already moved on from the encounter with Kamala, only just now giving it a second thought. She had already begun to make a new plan to obtain the Gem of Eternity from the high-security facility it had found its way into. And with that fleeting thought, Kamala passed out of the witch’s mind completely as she carried on with her life, the fate she thrust on Ms Marvel barely changing the trajectory of her life at all.

Back inside of Muneeba’s shoe, Kamala was still suffering under the new trajectory of her own life. Muneeba’s afternoon was much busier, with much more time on her feet. She rushed around, almost running at times, making her daughter’s life all that much worse. The human insole felt like she was being flattened into the floor as if her wearer was deliberately stepping down through her in an effort to merge her with the inside of the shoe by pressure alone.

Kamala’s internal curses shifted from the witch to her mother, the unwitting cause of her torment. She knew that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t know what she was doing, but at that moment, Kamala needed something to lash out against. There was no room in her brain for sympathy and understanding, there was only terror and rage.

Muneeba stopped and stood in place for a moment. Kamala paused, wondering what was happening, hoping that her torment would soon be over. She had no idea how long it had been since she left the house this morning, but it felt like this had been her entire life up until now. She needed to get out of there, and she needed to get out now!

And then finally, it happened. Kamala felt her prison shifting around her, the foot pressing down on her slid back, and in a moment, she was finally free of the oppressive weight. Her sobbing turned from tears of frustration and terror to sobs of joy. Even if it didn’t last, and even if she was worn again tomorrow, for now she was free!

That tiny sliver of light shone in on her again, but something was wrong. The light was moving as if she was being lifted and carried. But that doesn’t make sense, if she was taken off for the day, shouldn’t she be left on the rack that Kamala’s father always forgot to put his shoes on.

Something reached into the shoe, long and slender. It was fingers, Muneeba was reaching into the shoe! What was happening? Kamala gave a start as she realized her mother was reaching in to grab at something. Could it be that she figured out her daughter was in here? Was she coming to rescue her?

“Got it!” Muneeba declared triumphantly, closing her fingers around something sitting on Kamala’s surface. “I knew I had a rock in my shoe!”

And with that, Kamala’s hope was dashed. Her mother hadn’t rescued her, she hadn’t even taken her off for the day. She had simply taken her shoe off to get a rock out of it. Kamala felt the shoe fall back down to the ground and the light faded. Panic took her again as Muneeba’s foot crushed her body down into the hot, stinking cage.

Kamala spiraled, her mind and body overwhelmed to a point where she couldn’t keep track of anything other than torture and pain. The flying sensation merged with the crushing sensation in a never-ending cycle of pain and disorientation. She stopped being able to tell where one ended and another began. But through it all, her mind stayed sharp, the magic of the spell never allowing her to slip into madness. Thus was the true witch’s punishment…

This went on for hours, which passed horribly slowly. Kamala had a hard time imagining anything other than being stepped on, just like how it’s hard to imagine being warm in the depth of a long, cold winter. Hope for rescue faded, and every bit of her remaining mental energy was spent anticipating a time when her mother would take her off for more than a moment…

Finally, the weight came off again and the light creeped in again as Muneeba pulled her foot free, settling her shoes down onto the shelf.

She couldn’t see, but Kamala knew that’s where she was, her mother was always so dutiful about putting her shoes where they belonged. Voices reached her, but she couldn’t fully make them out. It was her family, her mother, father, and brother were all there. Even that horrid image left behind to live her life could be heard.

They were all going about their lives as if nothing happened. But to them, nothing did happen. None of them knew that the youngest of the family had been crushed down into nothing but the lining of Muneeba’s shoe. In fact, none of them even knew that she had superpowers.

Hearing the sound of normalcy stung Kamala deeply. She had the thought that hearing her family carry on without her was almost as bad as being under her mother’s foot all day. Of course, immediately chastised herself for even considering that. Of course being stepped on was worse, the only reason she was able to question that fact was that she was now free of that insane torture.

But she wasn’t actually free. The smell and damp still clung to her body. She, like everyone else, knew what happened to a pair of shoes that are worn every day. No matter what anyone would try to do, that smell never really comes out. And now it was on her, and it was not coming out, just like she was never getting out of this shoe.

In the silence and loneliness of her new permanent residence. This realization hit her hard and sent her spiraling again. Her mind reeled, the possibility of life under her mother’s foot had her sobbing silently in her mind again. Was this really it? Was this really all for her?

Above her, the voices faded and the light turned off. She was left completely alone, without even the voices of her family to keep her company and keep her sane. The thought of the night alone was daunting, though she knew it would still be better than the day with her mother. That thought was depressing: that she now dreaded time with the only family member that would ever touch her again.

Questions rang through her mind: How powerful was the witch’s spell? Would she need to eat like this? Would she die of starvation or dehydration? Or would the spell sustain her life without these things? Could she sleep, or would she be left to contemplate what her life had become every minute of every day?

Kamala showed no signs of getting hungry or thirsty, but it hadn’t been that long since she was transformed, so maybe it just hadn't kicked in yet. The feeling of a yawn came over her, giving her a definitive answer to the final question at least. She hadn’t seemed tired until now, mostly likely due to the horrendous sensations she endured throughout the day. But now, in their absence, exhaustion took hold.

It wasn’t long before she fell asleep, dreams of her encounter with the Scarlet Witch playing in her mind, always ending in the crushing pain of being forced into her mother’s shoe. She woke several times through the night in what felt like a cold sweat, the terror of her dreams only paling to the terror of her waking life.

Eventually, the light returned through the opening at her toes. And again, she heard the voices of her family getting ready for the day. Kamala steeled herself for another day of being stepped on. But then she realized that today would be Saturday! Muneeba didn’t work on the weekend, so maybe she would be spared.

Kamala strained to make out words in the distant conversations to get a clue at her fate, but it wasn’t to be. They weren’t close enough. But then a single voice cut through, it was her mother.

“My friend is in town from Karachi,” Muneeba was saying. “I’m going to meet her downtown and show her around for the day. You’re on your own for dinner!”

Kamala again started to sob to herself again. Even on what should have been a day off, she was going to be subjected to being stepped on repeatedly! Soon, the foot slipped in again, pressing her body flat. The toes wiggled against her face as Muneeba situated herself inside.

As before, the voices subsided, hidden by the mass of foot and sock. Kamala’s senses had not at all dulled from the other day. It was just as bad, just as heavy, just as pungent, and just as painful.

Kamala’s day was already planned out for her. Muneeba’s words echoing in her mind. She wasn’t going to be home for dinner. It was another full day of crushing, stinking weight. Kamala again tried in vain to move any part of her body though she knew nothing would happen. It had been made very clear that she was nothing more than an insole to be stepped on.

She longed for the moment when she would be taken off again to at least get some fresh air. Or at least air that wasn’t as stale as direct contact with a sweat-stained sock… 

A year of this passed, Kamala crushed underfoot, the smell and taste of her own mother’s foot soaked so far into her being that nothing could ever scrub it clean. Time really had lost all meaning, even the moments when she wasn’t being worn were terrible. Without the heat of her mother’s foot, she felt cold, the damp making this feeling that much worse. She could almost feel herself shiver, though she knew she wasn’t capable of moving.

Sometimes she heard her family’s voices, sometimes even her own voice, the simulacrum left by Scarlet Witch still living her life in her place. Most of the time she couldn’t really tell what they were saying, and even when she could, it was only tiny snippets. At first Kamala tried to listen, to follow along with the conversation and be a small part of their lives. But she gave up on that. Not only could she not hear enough to follow, but it was only that much more depressing hearing them go on with their lives, cursing the disobedient, disrespectful and just plain nasty version of herself that they were left with.

But for some reason, one conversation cut through the haze of her existence…

“I think it’s time to throw away these old shoes,” Muneeba was saying.

Kamala felt a chill run through her. She didn’t know how to react to the news that she was about to be thrown into the trash. On one hand, she would be doomed to the landfill where who knew what was going to happen to her. But then again, at least then she wouldn’t be painfully near and far from her family and her old life. In the moment that followed, she realized that she was grateful that it was almost over, that she would pass out of her family’s lives forever, not to be tormented by them again.

She fell into the darkness of the trash can, nearly weeping at the thought of being free of the crushing weight of her mother’s foot. Hours passed in blissful darkness, with only the occasional rustling of trash dropping on top of her. After what felt like a full day in the trash, a sudden feeling of weightlessness came over her. A bright light engulfed Kamala, and it felt like she was falling, no, being dragged through time and space.

Then, in an instant, her world refocused. She tried to get a look around at what was happening to her, but there was only a small sliver of light reaching her. A small sliver of light from down near her feet…

Then it dawned on her what happened. Before she could think on it any further, she felt the ever-so-familiar feeling of a foot sliding up her body…

The spell had transported her into her mother’s new shoe! Kamala sobbed to herself, any bit of restraint or acceptance of her horrific fate falling away from her in a moment. The witch’s punishment was never going to end, was it? The spell that trapped her here was going to keep her underfoot… forever…