NH part X

They’re having a good laugh at our expense. I find myself staring at the leader, till he averts his eyes. I want to have a good look at his face before I punch a hole in it. Next to me, Yana is sobbing quietly, slumped  in her chair, with her hands tied in the back. Josh and Dylan are not faring much better, especially Josh whose face is just now at the receiving end of the long swing of a hammy fist. He’s thrown down by the shock, toppling his chair in his fall, unable to prevent it. His wrists are bleeding from the rope, in unison with his mouth. More laughter ensues. My wrists are bleeding too, but hell, give me a minute….

It was bound to happen. One cannot live in chaos for ever, and chaos was exactly what the giantesses had brought to the world. Loss of organisation, paralysis of all services, degradation of the communications and transport, famine and diseases, you name it, everything piled up pretty fast after the Awakening, when more than 7000 giant human beings (although I doubt they belong to this category) started to wander the Earth in search of lively, tasty , and running little snacks. In the midst of the panic, and later in the relatively quiet areas left by the desolation and the horror, when the planet really started to empty itself of its dominant species, groups and clans and tribes started to try and rebuilt some pretence of organization. You meet those every now and then along the way, friendly people, scared people, cautious people, and at times, dangerous people.

It was not long either before religious fanatics of all sorts started their “conversion” in the view of the events. It was to be expected too, when so many god-like figures were literally walking the on the surface of the planet. To all of us, first an object of wonder and at times lust, then an object of fear and panic and despair, “they” became an object of worship to some , who were indeed pretty successful in convincing panicky people that the giant woman stalking their town was indeed a Goddess. They strength, power and uncanny beauty was a great argument proving that these beings were here for our sins, or for our salvation, or for the divine plan. Weird sects abounded for a while, revolving around the local giantesses, following them, worshipping them, praying to them. Leaders in cheap theology led their flock towards the hungry girls, singing hymns. Unsurprisingly, a lot of these sects disappeared as fast as they were born, the beautiful women finding them indeed worthy of their “attention”. These groups were always for us a subject of derision and mild sadness. At least, the poor sods died at the hands (or teeth, or butts…) of their “saviours”. I wonder if they found that thought a consolation, when their goddess started to digest them, or suffocated them in their pleasure.

Our scout party, (eight of us, light-footed, experimented and terrain-wise) met such a group this morning. Not the friendly sort, not the mildly stupid, quasi-suicidal sort either. No, the worst type. The well organized type that will indeed worship their goddess while she satisfies herself on the sacrifice of strangers. These fuckers have devolved to such a point they feed their own to the appetite and lust of the vast women. They ambushed us near the dry riverbed that runs into their sick little town. We were easily outgunned. One of us was killed, two of them were too. But hell, they had us, no question about that. We were vigilant and on the look-out for the first signs announcing a giantess (those tremors, the sudden thunderous yawn or giggle, the impossible footsteps…) but did not notice the signs announcing another plague, the evil low-life pieces of shit that strive in the chaos. My wrists are bleeding all right, but I rage so much inside, I hardly notice it….

Their “priest” is an unsightly man, all warts and hair and beard. He looks like the real maniac he is, power-hungry, feeding on the fear of his congregation. The rest of them hardly look human either. Dirty survivors of a dirty war, who choose to love the cause of their misery rather than fight it. I can’t help remembering this “Deliverance” movie I once saw on DVD. They’re dressed in rags, speak in grunts, and carry carefully maintained artillery. I can’t see anything outside, the slit that serves as a window in this bunker of theirs is too high. I know what I’d see, though. I’d see the three other members of our group tied to wooden posts on top of a nearby hill. They are scheduled to be lunch anytime now. That will mark the start of the prayers and whatever orgy they have prepared here for their ritual. The room we’re in is cluttered with various boxes, and racks of guns and pictures of the local giantesses. The filth everywhere is only matched by the stench from our captors.
They have their fun using Josh as a punching ball right now. I look at Yana, who’s trembling like a leaf with fear on her chair. My anger knows no limits. I know it’s a matter of time till one of the savages decides to have his fun with her.

I’ve made a mental plan of the place as, they brought us in. We’re in a sort of low hangar, half buried in the ground. The windows been reduced to slits that look out onto the hill. They like to watch the feast of the Goddess in 16/ 9 format apparently. It’s well camouflaged from the outside and apparently endows them with a modicum of safety during the show. Sad bastards. We’re adjacent to the main room where the “mass” will take place on the adequate moment.

And I feel it. The very slight tremor. I feel the tiny ball of fear settle in my stomach, as it always does, no matter how often I’ve exposed to them. A little dust detaches itself from the dirty ceiling, and starts drifting down. In the other room, I can hear the excited whisper of many people. The “priest” gives me a defiant and pleased grin, before barking to his companions. Laugh all you can, sicko, I’m done.

The heavy man that was beating on poor Josh is coming towards me now. He’s a true brute, and looks like one. He needs fresh meat, and my looking at him is triggering the good old-fashion male response. He glances at Yana, seems to hesitate, I swallow hard, and grins at him. He’s made his decision, I’m next on his list. I lock my gaze on the gun that hangs loosely from a makeshift holster under his arm. The priest is gone to the other room and his voice is loud and preachy. Four guys are left with us, probably in charge of tenderizing the meat for the goddess. Brutus lands his massive hands on my shoulders.

It’s nothing really, or very little. But it’s sharp, very sharp, and folded nicely and deep under my shirt, near my arm pit, unnoticeable to their hasty searches. It cuts through the man’s throat much easier than it did through the rope around my wrists. By the time the sudden gush of blood splatters on the ground, the gun is in my hand. My skin goes as cold as ice, as I push the large body down. My feet are still tied to the chair, and I feel so clumsy, sitting like this, a heavy twitching body on my knees, with this guy in front of me taking out his own gun. He get the bullet between the eyes, to my own surprise, and when I shoot again, the other guy doubles-up, and crashes on the muddy floor. No time left. I did not even get a chance to hear the guy behind me cock his gun. I see Yana staring at him, her face in shock. I shoot blindly twice over my shoulder, in the direction of that stare. I go deaf, but feel something bumping on the back of my chair. My left hand brings the tiny knife to the rope on my feet. The door starts to open. I shoot right through it. It closes again as the man behind falls backward. It all happened in less than five seconds. Shrieks and shouts explode in the other room.

I rush to Yana and cuts through the rope, shooting at random at the door. That keeps people from trying to enter apparently. I look around. Dummies. Stupid mother-fucking dummies:  we were locked in with the gun racks. Yana is already grabbing one. I free Josh and Dylan. I’m about to go to Yana when we all hear a din that makes us duck for cover. But it’s not coming from the door as I thought. It comes from outside. Now standing, I can see well enough through the slit. On the hill, an improbable festival is going on. Surrounding the three poles on the hill, fireworks are exploding in the air, sending their high-pitch signal and pseudo sonic bangs for miles around. These bastards are giving their Goddess the go-ahead for her meal. The tremors are feeble but constant now through the floor.

In the other room, a nice panic has settled in. Shouts and cries and confusion. The door shakes at some gunfire, new holes appearing into it, driving new shafts of light. Two gunmen from what I hear. That’s doable. I crouch in front of the door. Just as two holes appear above my head. I take a nice aiming position and gesture Yana to open. She does so.
There’s much movement in the room. Men, women, all haggard looking, in rags,  trying to hug the walls of the vast hangar- like space. Through the slits along the walls, two large rays of light cut through the dust. In the middle of the room, a weird-looking altar is set, surrounded by colorful but flthy mats on the floor, where i guess they must sit for the prayers. I spot some light coming from candles and torches. The first gunman is on the right, near an exit door. He’s trying to aim at me, but is perturbed by some fleeing companions. I’m not. He falls against the wall, leaving a long red stain as he crumbles down. Yana closes the door again with a kick of her boot. Damn, there are too many people in there. And they won’t leave the place now, with their goddess merrily approaching. Dylan pushes a heavy locker against the door. Josh and Yana add some more weight to it. That should hold  some time. Our options are narrowing. The window it is, then.

We stack boxes against the wall, under the window. In most of them, there seem to be more explosives (must have been a firework factory in the good old times). The guys in the main room are trying to force their way in. We glance at one another and immdiately come to an agreement: we better hurry. Getting Josh through the narrow opening is painful, he’s been badly beaten. Yana and Dylan manage to get him through, while I search the place. I find what I’m looking for. A nice can of petrol. Just as I thought, no one has dared to venture out, and we’re alone in the midday sun. A few hundred yards from us, the wails of our captive companions are clearly audible. The three of them are up the small hill, tied to their poles, a near biblical sight. The sickos that captured us have a flair for the dramatic. We run up the hill, under a clumsy fire, now that the guys below have recovered they guns. Good thing they’re poor shooters. Puffs of dust explode around us. I leave a nice smelly trail behind me.

We reach the top of the hill, panting and exhausted. Our friends are calling for us, we read all their hope and fear in their urgent eyes. They are looking at us, but also at something beyond the nearby forest. She’s coming alright. We stare at her for a second, a gigantic statue of flesh idly walking towards us. Her allure is stunning, by far one of the most beautiful specimen I’ve seen. Her curly blond hair is very long, nearly reaching her buttocks. She has a very curvy body, high breasts, and her legs are long and powerful. Her face is enticing, a lovely pale oval of cuteness, speckled with freckles. Her nose is small is slightly upturned, giving her a young look. Maybe the initial girl was an athlete, a model, but definitely the kind of person you’d notice in a crowd. This girl is too cute to be a man-eating thing. Yet we have no illusions about that. Her demeanour is serene, staring at us with a contented look. She’s really far, and would seem nearly normal still, if it wasn’t for the tiny trees at her feet. She crushes her way through the forest, and I see mighty oak trees crumble under her soles like blades of grass. When she comes out of the forest, her ankles catch some phone lines that she drags with her carelessly. Her smile is getting larger. And she does look hungry. She’s three miles from us, at best.

Dylan and Yana are trying to free Sylvia. The heavy rope is resisting the knife. The poor girl is crying , her face has been beaten and she has a nasty bruise on her  cheek. She stares at the approaching giantess, while her friends battle with her restraints. Under our feet the tremors are getting more and more intense. I glance back at the half buried bunker down the slope, where I can hear cheers, and shouts from the mad cultists. They see us no doubt as additional meat for the lunch of their goddess and do not bother shooting at us any more. Josh and I manage to free Allan, who falls on his knees, massaging his wrists. I look South. It’s too late, the shadow of the giantess is already upon the little town. As she walks through it, I hear the crunch made by cars that she transforms in metallic pancake under her soles. Her legs are cutting through houses that crumble like Lego toys. She’s an awesome sight, her breasts swaying to the rhythm of her gait, vast gourds of flesh four times my size at least, and hundred of times heavy than me, and the great pale abdomen under them seems to be calling for us, its perfect deep navel , like a hungry mouth. (I confess I also glance lower to a perfectly trimmed triangle, and a hidden cleft that could receive many visitors at once ).

The others are already running down the slope, half carrying their freinds, away from the predator’s line of sight. The forest is our best hope of vanishing at this stage. The giantess does not rush. She’s just on a morning stroll, and happy to see us. Yana and I are trying to reach our last companion. The insane villagers have him tied to a really high pole, his feet resting on a horizontal board, a good ten feet off the ground. Prentice is shouting at me to hurry, his face white with fear, his eyes locked on the vast body approaching. I desperately try and climb the pole to get to him. Yana is urging me to hurry, her voice shaky with fear. I manage to reach the board. I try to get a grip, and have some balance, I shout to Yana to get the hell out of here. My legs crossed around the pole, my left arm locked around the board, I start cutting at the rope on Prentice’s  ankles. I’m glancing at the woman. She’s nearly upon us, teeth that could cut us in half are showing in a yet beautiful smile. She’s going to pass near the bunker where the insane cultists must be silently preying with joy in their hearts and chanting her greatness.  Prentice is begging me to hurry. The tremors of the huge crushing feet make our pole sway even more now. That’s when I notice the heavy-duty chain around his wrists… 

I look at Yana, down the pole. She looks back at me, despair in her eyes. The guns. Dylan and Josh have the guns. The giantess’s face is level with us now,  a massive bill board slowly rising in the air, as she ascends the hill. The large green eyes are clear and beautiful, they look upon us as one would look upon a creamy pastry. Her massive body quickly looms over us, its shadow covering the entire hill top. As the vast body is gaining altitude in front of us, revealing the blond hair on her shoulders, and then the large appealing breasts,  Yana shouts a desperate word to me, and starts running down the hill, her panic total. Prentice’s pleas are turning into sobs. I stare at his down-turned eyes for a second, feeling my own tears of despair run down my cheeks. His eyes are drilling holes in my soul. his teeth are clattering with anxiety. “I’m sorry, man, I’m so sorry…” is all I can blabber out, as I manage to break the lock of our gazes.  I jump down the pole, roll a few meters. Two giantic feet have settled around our position, shaking the ground. Far above me, beyond the impossible long pillars of the legs, that hide the sky and the sun, a huge body begins to collapse in our direction. The long hair of the young woman is falling towards us in a sudden golden curtain. The sky is nothing but flesh and skin, the air permeated with human scent. I flick open my zippo lighter and throw it in the wet trail that leads to the cult  bunker. The fuel trail ignites and  starts rushing towards the hidden building. I start running just as enormous fingers grab the pole. Prentice’s cries intensify , as the pole is ripped from the ground in a sudden cracking noise, showering me with earth and grass, and is brought high up in the air to the enormous face. The girl giggles with pleasure as she looks at the wriggling man on the stick. She giggles and frowns and seems to savour the thought  for a moment, closely examining her prize, smelling it a bit, then she casually inserts it in her mouth. Prentice’s shouting is muffled behind the red lips.

I run for it, my mind a blend of fear and horror, down the grassy slope. A shadow appears around me, and it’s my turn to scream when a huge foot lands near me. Its big toe could have finished me off.  Dropping from far above, a massive hand descends upon me, thumb and index fingers extended to grab me, within the golden shower of the long hair. As I watch the enormous crane-like hand, my mind seems to switch to a strange and peaceful shock state. So, this is it?  She's the one that gets me? Is the running over? Was it worth it?  I'm nearly relieved to be chosen by this beauttiful girl. Somehow she seems worth it. The other hand is still  holding the human lollipop the girl is sucking on.

At that second, the huge deflagration hits us, the hungry beauty and I. The fireworks and explosives have been reached by the running fire.  The girl above me suddenly turns her eyes towards the weird  and joyful explosions behind her, where a big cloud of smoke is illuminated from the inside by dozens of fleeing fireworks rockets. The fingers stop descending and stand still just a few meters from me. (I can feel the heat of the vast body all around me,warmer than the pale sun).   The huge shape is going erect again, the hair that surrounded me a second ago, suddenly lifting up. A gigantic foot is hovering over me, the crinckled sole taking aging to pass it seems,  as the massive body turns round towards the half demolished bunker . The girl casually removes the pole from her mouth. Prentice is no longer there. She drops the pole,  laughs and starts walking to the bunker. She has forgotten about me. I do not dare to even breathe…..

I do hold my breath as the girl walks down the hill. In three steps, the vast buttocks are level with me, the long back of the giantess hidden in the lush locks of her blond hair. Three more steps and her head is lower than me and further afar still. In the distance, a human anthill has been breached, spilling its terrorized inhabitants. Many are alight with fire. I hear the girl laugh again as she scoops three guys in her hand and lifts them above her head, entangled in the cage of her fingers. She casually drops the first one on her extended tongue. He hardly has time to scream that he disappears in the closing mouth. The look on the girl’s face is ecstatic with pleasure as she swallows him swiftly. The two other men quickly follow. I watch petrified two little shapes at her feet disappear under a humongous sole, when the girl inadvertently crushes them beneath her tremendous weight, busy as she is gathering more morsels. She never even noticed their death underneath her, i'm sure. A running figure, all alight with fire is extinguished under the foot that lands atop of him.

The girl is now giggling with joy, walking around, her head down turned, as one follows ants in thir march, landing her feet around the small crowd of her believers, prodding them in the directions she wishes. Its' like she's doing a slow dance around them, carefully stepping in front of the little fleeing forms. After a few minutes of giggling and quick crushing, she has quickly gathered them in a petrified flock, that huddles together, no longer knowing where to run. Their cosy “observation lounge” is burning fiercely, offering no protection, yet some do try and run back into it. They end up as tiny stains under a foot, or are swiftly picked up between forefinger and thumb and placed back into the crowd. Then the lunch they were so eager to attend really begins. The girls sits down near them, surrounding her little human appetizers with her massive thighs (a man who was still on the move disappears under the settling flesh of her underthigh).

As I start crawling towards the shelter of the forest, I can’t help and look back. I’ve become sick this way, maybe. Perhaps no better than this insane lot that thought it a good idea to add us to their local giantess’s menu. Should the nightmare ever stop one day, I’m ripe for a decade of shrink sessions.  The doomed people are cowering now under the cliff of the vast abdomen that hungers for them,  in the shadow of the  mountainous thighs. More wails of terror come up , as she starts her lunch. The girl is making her pick, absentmindedly knocking over with her fingers the foolhardy that try and run away. She teases them, making believe the choice is difficult, picking one, releasing him, picking another one, bringing him to her mouth, then replacing him back in the crowd. i'm perplexed, this is a highly unsual behaviour for a giantess. The crowd is going mad, all they can do is wait for their turn and even that is turning into a terrible game. They do not have a single chance.  I tell myself I'd rather go quickly than wait the way they do.  One by one, fathers and sons and wives, they are lifted to the smiling lips, and disappear in the wondrous body of their goddess.

Soon three last men are cowering on the ground, crying and begging their goddess to spare them, while all their companions are but a few meters above, under the soft skin, starting their digestive journey. I reach the forest and turn round a last time. The girl is satisfied with her believers I guess, ‘cos she’s reclining now, propped on her elbows (one of which is crashing through a house, collapsing in a burst of raised dust). The last three remaining men have been set on her belly. She teases them with her index finger. Huho… No need to be a genius to guess what’s up. They probably have guessed themselves. Soon enough she picks one and drives him south for a more carnal pleasure. His screams disappear inside the perfectly shaped labia she has been taunting us with for the past half hour. A moan of satisfaction growls in the vast throat. A second man follows his companion in the wet cavern, dooming him to an even faster drowning in the depths of the girl’s vagina . The little trashing and screaming he does is not match to the fingers that insert him between the rosy folds. I wonder what’s going on in the head of the last survivor of the village, as he stands all alone on a plain of warm skin, hearing the muffled wails of all his friends and family ( these assholes were probably inbred, i think) right under his feet. Well, he does not get to reflect too long on this strange situation, as he’s picked up at last and used thoroughly by the giant beauty to stimulate her clit. If she doesn't break his nexk stroking his face against the burgeoning organ, he may last longer than the other two. Poor bastard. I do not look further but as I run deeper in the forest, scratching my face on the underbrush, I hear the thunderous moans  of the girl. I hope the leader of the cultist is one of the three guys. I sure hope he enjoys his drowning in the godly juices….

I find Yana and the other huddled together not far from the spot in the riverbed where we were jumped by the savages. The kiss I get from her when we meet is enough to make me wish my life was more often in jeopardy. (Come to think of it, I get to receive quite a few of these kisses nowadays. I ought to be more cautious.) Still, we’re all stunned from the recent tragedy. We’ve lost two good people in that mess. We gather our stuff and start the journey back to the main group. I’m not looking forward to explaining the events of the day and the deaths of our companions. We need now to think about the road ahead, how to avoid the blond assassin in this region, and generally speaking, how to stay alive a bit longer.
Hell, it’s still a life I guess, now that our civilised days are obviously truly gone. At least today saw the end of these despicable human beings. This road will be less dangerous for those who may follow us. Poor consolation.

It is a more tangible consolation to remember that the giantesses are now experiencing their own attrition rate, as reports come in nearly pretty regularly on the net (thank god for the few thousand servers in the world still providing us some information) of the demise of a predator. We all suspect we , the humans, are doing this, that somehow someone has found the Achilles heel of the giant huntresses. But the reports are sketchy, unclear, and so far only in Asia have giantesses been reported dead. We’re still a long shot from sleeping peacefully at night.  Still, this is the thought I emphasize at the end of my speech for the fake burial ceremony we offer our dead later that day, as we grieve for our companions and prepare for the journey ahead.

That night, I dream of the life I had before the Awakening. These were good times, for sure, yet, when I wake up with Yana in my arms, the sky above my head, I cannot bring myself to fully regret the chain of events that brought us together. Human psychology, go figure.

tbc

nostromo