The light at the end of the tunnel

Again the first thing Thomas sensed was something overwhelming: a bright light that he simply couldn't look away from. It was everywhere, in all directions, even inside his eyelids (he learned that in his natural reaction to the aforementioned stimuli). Then the second overwhelming stimuli struck his senses, a cry so loud and so prolonged that no one could not react to it. He belatedly realised he was the source of that sound, as he felt the exertion from the production of the sound.

The bright light grew more manageable, and he looked around for something to explain his automatic queries: where he is, why is he wailing, and so on. It took him a while to recognise what he was seeing. It seemed as if trees were standing around - doing things, holding him, peering at him, making very untreelike sounds. It took a while for the painfully obvious fact to register: these we're not trees but people, albeit really huge people, huge enough to hold him in their hands. Since he doubted the natives or locals were Ents or Brobdingnagians, it must be he who was smaller. This realisation struck a bell, so he tried to look down at himself to ascertain one way or the other. Yep, he was not only naked, his naked body lacked his usual adult proportions. Tiny hands and feet, check. Arms and legs too short to be of any use, check. "Here's hoping that I'm a cute baby. Hmm, I wonder if the new me looks like my past self. Now that would be a miracle." Thomas scoffed to himself.

Now possessing some knowledge of himself and what his earlier experiences meant, he looked around to discover more about the world into which he had been thrust. His surroundings didn't look like something from his old world's medieval era or third world countries. In fact things look pretty shiny, bright and high tech. He was currently in the arms of someone he assumed to be his mother (the reasons being 1. he wasn't moving and 2. the chest he was pressed against felt massive. And bumpy. "Hmm, would it be weird, even perverse, for me to suck the breasts of someone possibly younger than me? Ah well, if the locals or natives know about us coming from Purgatory they would have policies dealing with such things."

He became aware that he was hearing rhythmic sounds. "Must be the local language. Hmm, sounds recognisable. Must be the influence of us from Purgatory." He attempted to focus on the sounds, but it wasn't before long that he was whisked from what he assumed was his mother's arms to somewhere less organic. It looked to him like a bed with a cover, and after he was laid on the bed a light flashed on him for a while. Then he was returned to his mother. This time, more talking sounds were made around him but Thomas suddenly felt too tired to focus much on them. Thus again darkness took him...