NAKED HOLOCAUST Part VI
What is the strategy? What are the goals? In a word: What the hell is going on?
This is the obsession of every able-thinking human being on our planet right now. There is no doubt an intelligence is at work in this horrific pandemonium. Scientists of all nations are desperately trying to translate the strange language our tormentors use. It is thought that the word “yusloy” describes us. The term is often used during a “catch”, when the GTS seem to address us, shortly before this encounter of the umpteenth kind turns into a dinner feast, a crushing feat, or sexual play.
Attempts have been made, using loudspeakers on planes or helicopters to repeat some words to them, with the improbable hope they would have been unaware of our sentient nature. That only caused a few giggles, some incomprehensible retorts and mostly plain ignoring.
We’re under attack by some intelligence, and it is very unlikely it appeared among us. Some theories ran for a while of a genetic project going wrong, of an epidemic of unknown nature, but the presence of this language of theirs has eliminated these hypothesises. They understand one another. The first witnessed meeting between two GTS has been well documented on TV. The two wondrous creatures started to chat in an animated fashion, laughing at impossible jokes, nodding approval. Their body language is pretty comparable to ours. And it was obvious their words carried meaning to them. But thousands of computer programs could not trace the basis of this language to any known lingo or even syntax. The meeting itself ended with one GTS feeding the other one, before attending to her sexual needs, using a multitude of tiny figures to enhance her pleasure. Was it a friendly gesture? Is there a hierarchy among them? Who knows…
The explanation is therefore today in favour of an external power. The GTS would be the product of an intervention from an intelligence far superior to our own, and therefore probably alien to the planet. Some groups argue the right to call it God, or Allah, or other divinity. But they sure have a hard time conciliating their gods’ benevolence with the current massacre.
As for me, well, my own theory is simple enough, and well shared by the public. Termination of our species. Like giant pest controllers, the GTS are cleaning our planet of the human race, for the future settlement of another race. The GTS are the tools of this cleansing.
And so it happens, slowly but surely. The number of human beings on the planet has started, for the first time singe the Great Plague, to dwindle down significantly. To say that the Giantesses are the cause is obvious, but the real factor is in no way the regular slaughter they perform during the day. Sure, a single GTS can kill a few hundred people in their good days, but mostly, our species has become master of disguise. The night is now our ally. And like the otter, who had become a nocturnal animal because of man, we are coming a day-fearing animal, because of the Giantesses. Mankind has descended into the night.
We all know it’s only a manner of buying time, the GTS will also catch up soon enough with our new mode of life, they will adapt, sleeping longer during the day and increasing their rounds at night, maybe even develop new techniques to feed on us. (The question of their cruelty is a hot debate: since they do not show any other "hobbies" , the killing seems to be their very nature, as giant predators, or their very function, as tools of elimination. Cruelty is somehow not the right term for them, it seems, but it could well be applied to the sourcethat created them.)
No, the real factor for the demographic catastrophe is really the crumbling of our organized civilisation. Agriculture has become a high risk activity, medicine and hospitals, concentrated in urban centres, have followed the same destiny as most urban activities. Travels are dangerous, food no longer crosses the countries, factories no longer provide the maintenance parts. Famine has struck hard many states, stating with the African states, no longer receiving the humanitarian aid. Then Eastern countries, with their high concentration of population, no longer have access to the massive food supply they require. The Western world sees its population struck by famine also, for the first time since a hundred and fifty years.
This is a bloody mess. And Yana and I are right in the middle of it. Our little gang has grown and dwindled and grown again, depending on the odds we met, the cleverness we showed, and I hate to say it, the mistakes I’ve made. We’re a hardy group, many of us have skills that prove useful in the field, and many have shown a courage I did not know existed in ordinary people. Many have prevented me from crossing dangerous lines. We get by.
Recently the question of survival has been replaced by the question of hope. Is there any for us? And if so, where is it? We can no longer keep going the way we’ve been, surviving from one city to the next. We need a direction, a goal. It has been agreed that reaching the Northern places is our best bet for survival. It’s not enough to eke a living out of dying cities, we need a place to live permanently. North it is then. Hopefully we’ll meet someone who knows how to pilot a plane and will try to find one. Otherwise, well, a long trip lies ahead.
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Tonight we cross the river. We’ve been hiding in the old church for two days now. Two giantesses seem to have dominion over this region. One of them is pretty small, perhaps 200 feet tall, she looks very young, her hair is short, boyish style, of a stunning red hue, her pale body is like a huge ad for perfect skin. She laughs a lot. The other one is twice her size, a giant chocolate-skinned beauty, with dreadlock the length of the church, and balancing heavily down to her behind. Her body is nothing less than sculptural, with well defined abdominal muscles and toned arms and legs. It seems the original woman was a fitness addict. (What is there left of her in this giant body?). We spotted them from afar, hiding along the derelict buildings, squirming past their giant feet in the dark, slowly progressing towards the river.
Last night, Beck was caught, as she was coming back from a scouting bout to find some more food in a mall she knew existed in the suburbs. Myself and Pete were accompanying her one this one. We had gotten stuck by the passage of the small GST, as she was idly strolling in the streets. We observed her, as she randomly destroyed the roofs of houses and had a peek inside, her long fingers foraging in search of a tiny human. She kept going at it really slow, and we got stuck at a petrol station, not daring to move. Watching her vast slim body blot out the stars behind he, we kept mostly quiet, (except for Peter, whose leery comments on the giantesses’ large assets had surely been a source of joy to the female members of the group)
Large GTS are so big, one feels a bit more confident when meeting them, our miniature shapes probably difficult to notice in the darkness. Small GTS like this are more dangerous, they are closer to the ground, perhaps enjoy a better hearing. You never know. The night was drawing to an end and we were becoming restless. A few hundred yards away the huge girl had sat on the ground, near a lot of small one storey houses. Under her huge ass, an oak tree had crumpled like a blade of grass. We shivered when we heard the first screams in the night. Bingo for our GTS, she had found a group of people, or perhaps an isolated family, foolish enough to stick by their possessions.
That was it for us. We scrambled into the night, in the direction of the church. We were going fine, when suddenly a train passed by, just in front of us, a dark shape rushing with sound of thunder in the night (trains were a sever liability for travelling, but countless convoys still crossed the night, taking enormous risks to bring food and necessities to cities or military bases, or any “strategic” base. We had to stop and let it pass. It was going at a really high speed, but all rules of safety had vanished long ago. Only the goal mattered. Behind us a giggle of enormous power rolled into the sky. Vibrations came up suddenly along our legs. I turned round slowly afraid of what’ I’d see. The massive woman was rushing to us. Her eyes were dark pools in the darkness, and I doubt she was looking at us, but her massive frame was rushing forward, perhaps in the hope to catch the tail of the train (they were known to them as a good source of tinies, I’m sure). Large feet were stomping in our direction.
The train was passing by in front of us. It seemed to go on for ever. Behind us the huge woman was advancing fast. We rushed towards the nearest house. A massive form higher than the street was long was already filling the slowly brightening horizon. Her huge breasts were swinging madly in her haste. The train passed at last, and for a second, I was sure she was going to follow it. She could easily outrun it for a short while, even considering the difficult terrain ( that meant a lot of houses explosively disintegrating under her running soles) .
We just cowered in the darkness of the abandoned house. Beck was shivering with fright, Pete was livid, and I was shaking like a leaf. We stayed there for another half an hour, but I was getting really anxious about the time. Outside the horizon has taken the rosy hues of a bright morning. Sunrises and bright mornings are no longer a source of wonder, believe me. The air was still and silent. We had to get back now or attempt a dangerous daylight trip back to the church by the river. We decided to take our chance. I opened the door and scrutinized the surroundings. Nothing alarming. We came out of hiding and started to trot along walls. The street was littered with all sorts of objects, rats were squealing as we passed by. I just had time catch the movement from the corner of my eyes.
A shadow came upon us. From behind a massive colonial style house a giant arm was rising. The vast hand was already dropping down in our direction. Over the roof, the red dome of her head appears, and the next second two mischievous eyes appeared above the building. The huge massive body was resting obviously on the ground . As her face came in full view in the now dim light, a few words shattered the silence. “Caught ya!” was probably was she said. Her luscious and youthful smile was showing the formidable teeth of a happy predator. The next second the ceiling of her palm was upon us, as we rushed screaming towards the nearest house entrance. Two large fingers extended and surrounded Beck’s running form ahead of me. I heard the young woman shout in horror, as the pressure settled and her run was interrupted by a sudden take off. I can only imagine what it must feel like, feeling the grainy pressure of the warm flesh around you, seeing the ground recede under your flaying legs, as you rise above the house roofs, knowing fully that you have turned in a second from a living person into a mere morsel, an appetizer, that your next stop will be within the inner darkness of the giant captor. And that no one will ever be able to stop this.
I dived into the lobby of a big hotel near the train station, Pete, on my heels. I stop by the window and watched the vast naked body taking its full stature, as the woman stood up. For a few second all I could see was the vast feet and the beginning of her calves. Then more motion and the giant body sat on the roof of a building, crushing the structure. The woman sat cross-legged, and brought Beck to her face. I could see our friend screaming and struggling in the grip of the feminine fingers. The giant girl spoke to her, in a nearly soothing tone, making also some hushing noise, as if to appease her prey. After a minute or two, Beck had stopped her struggle and was staring into the large blue eyes. She tried to speak to the girl. The giant girl was looking at her with curiosity it seemed, possibly surprised to hear more than a scream coming for the tiny morsel. A long smile stretched the sensual lips. She replied to Beck in a whispered tone, her face looked… concerned. I had never seen before a giantess showing any personal interest in us. ( And I suspect to this day that what she said to our friend could have brought the entire situation under a different light but…).
The young girl opened her mouth slightly. Beck resumed her screaming, as the upper part of her body was introduced between the tombstone-like teeth. Delicately, the mouth closed, the scream intensified, got muffled by the closing lips. I averted my eyes. Not long enough. The next think I saw was the girl chewing slowly the little body, a trickle of blood staining her lips. In her hand two limp legs protruded from her fingers. Some loud Mmmmm sounds of appreciation boomed from the slender throat. I puked what was left of my long forgotten last meal. When I looked again, the pair of legs was being tossed in the vast red inside of the cavernous mouth. I rushed to the other side of the house, dragging a crying Pete behind me.
We crashed doors open in our rush, running in pitch black corridors, looking for the nearest exit. A loud crashing noise exploded above us. The hotel seemed to rock on its foundations. She knew where we were. The ceiling behind us crashed down , wooden beams piercing the plaster, the dim light of daybreak invading our darkness, in the sudden cloud of dust that penetrated the corridor. Above us, a flash of pink flesh, as large fingers started to break through the ceiling. I rushed into a door. It opened. Toilets. I open the small window, crawl though it, my skin scratched opened on the hard wood, my jeans ripped through. I fall down in a bush. Packs start flying through, thrown by Peter and crashing on my head on shoulders. Pete appears in the narrow opening. I stand up and start pulling him out. We’re in a small alley, between the hotel and the next building. The crashing sound carries on, as the giant girl is prying open the hotel. Dust is rising from every shattered window above us, as we start running down the alley. A shadow above forces me to a stop. An enormous foot is flying above us, attached to it is the incredible length of her leg, leading to the naked crotch. Beyond, her upper body is too squeezed by perspective to be really graspable. The foot crashed on top of the building next to us.
The walls come toppling down, as the edifice is suddenly leaning against the already destroyed hotel. The alleyway has turned into a tunnel. I keep running, hearing Pete’s laboured breath behind me. Playing video games is the closest I have been to war- like situations. I will never play that stuff again. Adrenalin has replaced my blood. I just want out of this crushing horror. In front of me a massive finger is pushing the rubble in my direction , trying to find us in the interstice between the houses. I secure my packs. And dive under a long man-sized plate. It’s about large enough to hide, small enough to grab on either side. I grab it with all my strength as I let it collapse onto me. I have no idea what Pete is doing. Breathing is difficult now, the foraging noises around us are deafening, like a dozen wrecking balls at work at the same time. Far above a strange cooing is trying to coax us into showing ourselves. I look to my left. I see Pete, stuck under a falling block. His left leg is a messy red mass. Suddenly a large finger nail is obscuring my sight. It lifts the blocks around Pete, pressing against the walls nearby, collapsing them. The block that covers Pete is lifted in the air. I hear a giggle of glee. The massive finger comes back, this time with the aid of another one as they squeeze through the alley to grab Peter. His body disappears without a sound. I think he’s half- conscious. A minute later, I hear distinctly a feeble yelp followed by crunching noises, as the chewing face is probably just above me. A swallowing noise. Pete is gone.
The foraging starts again in the alley. I see two fingernails appearing right and left of me. Lifting the plate of plaster I hang to. I muster all my strength. The plate lifts two or three meters, before being pushed push aside against a wall. I just hung to it , my struggling arms and legs probably too small to be noticed in the dark alley. The plate falls back on me and I find myself violently stuck against a pile of rubble . The stones try and find a way through my ribs. But she hasn’t seen me. The fingers are moving further away, I keep quiet there for one, two hours, who knows. All I hear is the methodical destroying of the houses nearby. She’s thorough, I can give her that. It’s daylight now, and all I can do is waiting. When all noises have cease, I crawl out of my hiding place, grab the packs I can find and make my way back to the church.
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The crossing of the river is going to be tricky.
We have many times seen Giantesses come to the rivers and lakes to drink. It’s also a place where they like to rest, their massive bodies disrupting the flow and creating mini floods in the surrounding countryside. I remember that small ferry that drifted on the large river south of here, its engines dead , its passengers screaming, and the mischievous woman who waited for it down the current. Her feet on both sides of the river, her naked body in her crouching position. I remember the screams from the little boat when the huge womanhood started to lower over the passing boat, stopping it at first, crunching its masts and then sinking it into the fast flowing river. The woman had sat there for one hour, in the water gathering the swimming survivors that got caught against her thighs. A lot of them were clinging to her pubic hair, as if it was a safety line. it's not in the water that they eventually drowned...
Yes the crossing could prove quite a task. We all sat in the church, waiting for the right moment.
We have done our grieving already for Beckie and Pete. We do not have too much time to that any more. Yana is holding my hand as if she'd decided never to let it go ever again. I don' t want her to ever let it go. And I need this contact today more than ever. As we wait, a young student, Yoko, is telling us of her escape from Tokyo, the day the Awakened destroyed the city. We all saw it on TV. It was the first BIG one.…..
Tbc?
nostromo