Cyrus

When the lights went on, Cyrus made a bee-line for the police station, not because he thought there might be cops there who would protect him, but because there might be guns. Plus he figured the design of the building was probably more secure than any other in town, with the exception of the bank.

As expected the building was deserted. It didn’t take him long to find the gun locker. He was hoping to find an assault rifle, but was pleased find two Mossberg 500 Tactical shotguns. He didn’t care how big they were, he figured at close range, a shotgun could still do some damage. Grabbing one of the shotguns from the locker, he started looking for shells. Fortunately, in the cabinet beside the gun locker he found a couple of boxes 12 gauge shells. With Deft fingers, he quickly loaded 6 shells in the shotgun and put another six in the holder on the stock, the rest he put into his pant pockets. Smiling to himself, he cranked the pump and said, “Fuck yeah!”

The sounds of carnage were all around, along with the rumbling sound of titanic footsteps. He debated possible tactics. The head on approach would be suicide, pump or no. He needed to be strategic. He thought about locking himself in one of the two cells in the back but figured the bars, while strong enough to keep him in, would do nothing to keep them out.

Shotgun in hand, he crept to the window to see what was happening. There was a giant figure kneeling overtop of the police station, her torso near the hotel. The figure reared back, long red hair spilling down her back as she rose to standing. Across from the police station there appeared a commotion in the beauty salon, several of the titanic women congregated there. He watched as tiny forms were quickly devoured. Except for one broad, a dark haired girl who looked like a teenager, she was stuffing little people into her bra. The whole thing seemed such a perverse distortion of reality he laughed out loud, almost maniacally.

Turning is back to the wall, he slid down, shotgun standing between his legs. Shadows flashed passed the window as the ground shook. Peering back out the window, he caught sight of a guy and Jack exiting the bar just as a giant broad reached over the building. She caught the other guy but Jack ducked into the remains of the hotel. There were just too damn many of the women, he knew the more people that got caught the harder it would be to hide. “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.

Selene

She saw the sudden commotion from the beauty salon, but she also noticed the tiny form skirt passed her shoe and into the bar. Stepping over the building, she lowered herself to kneeling behind the bar, presuming the little one might attempt to sneak through the back. When the door, no more than the size of an average business card to her, started to open she seized and easy pulled it away. The startled expression on the tiny man’s face made her grin. “Hello handsome,” she said, for he was handsome. Quick as a startled mouse, he darted back into the bar. Leaning forward, she placed her left hand into the street, keeping her right poised to grab the man as he fled the front of the bar. However, the man who emerged from the bar was not the man she had seen. Reaching down, she quickly snatched up the man in the street. She didn’t see the other man. Looking into the open hotel and down the block there was no trace. Unless he was still in the bar. Selene smiled.

Looking up, “Serah,” she called. The white haired woman turned to face her. Selene tossed the tiny man in her hand to her, his little arms flailing as he flew through the air. Serah smiled and snatched the little figure out of midair, quickly divested it of clothing and wolfed him down. That one was too easy, Selene thought, she wanted to play, she wanted to have fun with the one she had startled in the bar. Leaning back, she grabbed the front of the single story bar and started to pull, hoping to pull up the whole building, instead she got all the walls and roof, the foundation of the bar and furnishings were still on the ground. There was no trace of the man she had glimpsed. She cast the building shell aside. Leaning forward again, this time elbow on the ground, she looked more thoroughly into the ruins front of the hotel. Reaching in with her hand, she began to pull at partition walls and floors. Suddenly a figure emerged from the second floor and ran directly at her, momentarily startled by the sudden motion, she instinctively jerked back. The figure landed, running past her face and directly into the police station.

Cyrus

When the door on the police station flew open, Cyrus rolled sideways and came up with the shotgun leveled directly at the door. It took a split second for his brain to register there was a man standing there, looking into the barrel of the Mossberg. The man stopped dead, putting his hands up.

“Motherfuck! I almost shot you!” barked Cyrus, pulling the shot gun away. The man smiled and before he could take a step forward, the door imploded followed by a giant feminine hand. Amidst the shattering glass, the hand curled around the man and he was gone, not even enough time to scream, where once the police station doors used to be, now there was only a gaping hole.

Cyrus took two steps back and aimed the shotgun at the hole.

Four fingers from a different hand, each of them ending in a brightly polished nail, the longest finger longer than he was tall, curled around the top of the opening and began to lift. Lifting the shotgun, he fired it into the hand, the report of the blast echoing in the confined space of the room. Pumping the shotgun, he fired again as the hand hastily vanished from the hole. “Eat that bitch!” he yelled, pumping the weapon again.

He backed away from the hole, there were a couple different sets of feet visible through the windows and the ruin doors of the police station.

“There’s somebody with a bloody gun in there,” said Emilie, rubbing at the speckled mark on the back of her right hand.

“What?” asked Selene, sitting back on her heels prize secure in her hand. Examining her catch, she frowned. Still not the one she had caught a glimpse of at the rear of the bar.

“There is one of them in there with a gun,” repeated the blonde.

Selene laughed lightly. “Here, take this one,” she offered, holding the tiny man she retrieved from the police station toward Emilie.

“No, I want the little bastard that shot me,” growled Emilie.

Selene held the figure in front of her face and smiled, before setting him down in the street near the café. “You should probably run,” she encouraged. Terrified, the man took off, eyes locked onto Selene as he fled. He didn’t see Lyssa’s hand descend in front of his path as she scooped him up, shredded his clothes and swallowed him down. Selene resumed her search of the hotel.

“You in the police station, if you come out, I promise it will be swift,” Emilie offered, trying to peer in through the windows without putting her face in the line of fire.

“Why don’t you stick your face in the doorway and let me brush your teeth with my shotgun,” Cyrus countered.

“Cyrus,” she said, recognizing his voice.

“Fucking A it’s me,” he acknowledged.

“You do realize I could simply stomp the building into the ground and you along with it,” she stated.

“Better that than winding up slowly digesting in your gut,” he countered. “In fact, I’d eat this shotgun before I let you stuff me down your throat hole.”

He could see more sets of legs appear beyond the windows. Could he do it he wondered, shoot himself in the head? He didn’t have long to ponder, as the roof was suddenly torn off. Startled, he brought the shotgun up firing once, before suddenly being pushed roughly to the ground, smothered by a heavy palm, he felt as if his ribs might crack.

“Got you,” triumphed Emilie, easing her hand back enough to allow him to breathe but not to move.

“Go fuck yourself,” he replied from beneath her hand.

“Go Fuck myself?” she asked.

“Did I stutter?” he wheezed.

“Okay, if that’s the way you want it, it’s decided then,” she said, curling her hand around him and lifting him into the air. Standing upright, she held her hand in front of her and opened it. Cyrus lay spread eagle and face down in her palm. She began to tear away his clothing.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he complained.

“You said fuck myself, and that’s what I’m going to do, except I’m going to use you to do it,” she replied with a grin, closing her hand around him. The hunt had aroused her and she liked the idea of using him to culminate the experience. A couple of strides she sat down in the athletic sports field behind the tiny school house. Using her free hand, she removed her shorts and panties and parted her legs. She was already wet. Cyrus squirmed vigorously in her grasp, but her hold was too firm. She shifted him in her grip so his head and shoulders were exposed between her right index finger and thumb, but his arms her held fast by his sides.

“Stop!” he yelled, but she was unmoved by his complaint. She silenced his next word by using his face to manipulate the sensitive skin around her clitoris. She titillated herself with him until she opened herself up and pushed him inside her hungry vagina. Once he was completely in her, she began to furiously rub herself, bucking and thrashing against her own hand. The first orgasm hit her hard, her whole body convulsed as neurons fired impulses all through her body. She clamped her legs closed and rocked to the glorious sensation. His tiny struggles sent shivers through her and she enjoyed another orgasm. Knowing she had wrung every ounce of usefulness out of his tiny little body, she pulled his semiconscious form from her swollen pussy. Laying on her back, she dangled him over her open mouth and dropped him in, depleted as he was, he slid down her throat with no resistance. Closing her eyes, she gently rubbed her stomach and basked in the afterglow of her climax.

“Fuck myself indeed,” she murmured.

Jack be quick…

He was starting to panic, he could hear the sounds of the hotel being systematically pulled apart. Running down the corridor toward the back of the hotel, he paused to peer out the window. There was aloud rending sound behind him. He turned back to look and made momentary eye contact with Selene.

“Aha!” exclaimed the woman, finally locating her elusive prey down the length of the hall. Jack never hesitated, he dove through the window and onto the ground behind the hotel. He desperately hoped Clarice was still relatively close. Selene drew herself rapidly back into a kneeling position, and her sudden exclamation and reaction drew the attention from several of the other women in the vicinity. Clarice was actually the one who saw Jack first, but she was not the closest. Selene, situated on her knees behind the bar and Lyssa were closer, with Angelica a step back but still closer than Clarice. Several sets of eyes fell on Jack simultaneously. Running as fast as he could away from Selene, he bee-lined toward Angelica.

Angelica saw him but she also saw how much closer Selene was. Extending her right arm, Angelica dove toward Jack before the other woman could respond. To him, the force from her hand as it ensnared him was akin to being hit by a bus. The impact snapped several ribs on his right side and his right collar bone was broken. Slender fingers swept around him quickly and squeezed painfully. The world spun topsy-turvy as Angelica landed hard on the ground beside the startled Selene, pulling him close to her bosom and cradling him as she rolled over and to a stop.

When she opened her hand, he smiled up at her, grimacing through the pain. He was safe. Without warning, she opened her mouth, and pushed him inside. He was stunned, he rolled over her tongue and into her throat as she swallowed. The moist soft tissue contracted around him, propelling him downward, he clenched his teeth as the compression placed additional pressure on his injured side. He felt denser muscle as her lower esophageal sphincter opened and he was passed into her stomach. There was a brief falling sensation, before striking the muscular ridges inside her stomach. He grunted in pain and was startled when he heard a feminine shriek in the darkness.

“It there somebody there?” he asked, wheezing against the pain and caustic atmosphere inside Angelica’s stomach. It felt like a sauna.

Everything lurched, and Jack tumbled against the rugae and tried his best to protect his injured side, before coming into contact with a soft mass, which immediately pushed back against him.

“Easy,” Jack said through his teeth. “I think we’re both in this mess together.”

“What’s happening?” sobbed a female voice in the acrid darkness.

“I think we are up shit creek,” Jack laughed at the funny. The stomach undulated around them. “You should come closer, so we don’t smash into each other again,” he offered. He felt small delicate hands touch his right leg and then travel up to his head.

“You’ll have to climb over me doll to get to my other side, I’m pretty broke up on my right. She was slight as she climbed over him. Wrapping his left arm around her slender shoulders, he pulled her close.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Abigail, everyone calls me Abbie. You?”

“Jack, but everyone calls me Jack,” he said.

“I’m scared Jack,” she offered, voice breaking, on the verge of tears.

“Just think of the meet-cute story we’ll have when we get out of here,” he teased, but she only nestled firmer against him. The digestive rumbling, audible over the rushing noise of Angelica’s beating heart sounded ominous.