The Giant (G/T)

Part 8

I stayed in the darkness of the giant's coat pocket for a long time, going who knows where, unable to escape. My nerves were run ragged. I imagined all sorts of terrible scenarios in my head. I didn't know what he planned to do with me, but I knew it was nothing good. Worst of all, I didn't think I had any hope of Chester finding me, considering he was currently lying unconscious in a puddle of his own blood. My scent was still concealed, or at least muted, seeing as how the evil giant had still been able to discover me. Tracking me over a long distance would be very difficult if not impossible.

Essentially, I was doomed. I curled up into a fetal position and shivered uncontrollably. Why had I been stupid enough to put myself at such risk? I didn't blame Chester for my predicament. Although he had suggested the idea, I had still agreed to it knowing the inherent danger involved. I should have known better.

From the outside world, I heard a door open, then slam shut as the giant walked through it. I felt him move forward several paces, then stop. His hand moved into the pocket and he roughly seized me in his fist. I knew better than to struggle, even though his grasp was constricting me. He threw me onto the hard surface of a table and sat down. The sparse room was dimly lit by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling above the table, leaving most of it shrouded in dark gloom. The giant leaned his elbows on the table and held his chin in his hands, observing me with his frigid glare. I felt very small with his vast form towering over me. I already knew from experience that any giant-sized table would be too high to jump off of and survive, so I stayed in place where I had landed, shivering with fear. I held my arms tight against my tiny figure, as if trying to create a barrier between the monstrous giant and me. He didn't speak, only watched my every move in silence. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I couldn't take it anymore and spoke up.

"W-w-what are you going to do with me?" I choked out in a quivering voice.

He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't decided yet." He leaned forward over me and laid a hand on the table. I took a step back. For a while there was silence again. I broke into a cold sweat but was too petrified to speak. Being under his gaze was so uncomfortable but I couldn't look away. The giant reached his huge hand toward me and I cowered down, but he prodded me with his finger and forced me to face him again. He lifted my face up with the tip of his finger under my chin, and pivoted my head to the side, then began examining the rest of my body. He lifted my arm and rotated it between the tips of two fingers. I dared not move, lest he break one of my bones, even by accident. I hated feeling so fragile, so small, so helpless under the threat of overwhelming menace.

"How lucky I am," the giant murmured to himself. "Not just any human, but a young woman. My favorite flavor." I felt exceedingly nauseous. Without warning, he lowered his head down and yanked my arm up to his enormous lips. I squealed in fear but could do nothing to retaliate as he sucked my arm into his lips, almost up to my shoulder. I felt the slick surface of a large tooth on my hand, then the recognizable sliminess of his tongue as it rubbed against my arm. I pulled away but my strength was insignificant compared to his and my arm didn't budge from inside his mouth. I froze in horror when I felt his two rows of teeth touch around my wrist. If he bit down now, my hand would be severed clean off. Instead, his jaws opened and he released my arm. I fell back on the table, trembling. I started to believe I would be better off jumping off the table to my death then let this terrible giant man kill me.

The giant peeled his lips back into a savage smile that gave me chills. He reached his hand under the table, presumably to grab something from his other coat pocket, and his hand reappeared with an object concealed in it. With a flick of his wrist, the mystery object was revealed to be a pocketknife, the long blade glinting wickedly in the dim light. I jumped back and tried to run, but the giant knocked me down, pinning me against the table with his fingers. I flailed about in vain as the gigantic knife grew closer, its shiny edge hungering for my blood. The giant rotated the blade so it was facing upwards, then sliced it up through my shirt, grazing my belly in the process. The cut was not very deep, but I screamed anyways as I felt hot blood drip out of the wound. The giant rubbed the wound with the tip of his finger and sampled my blood with his tongue.