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Author's Chapter Notes:

Hey there everybody! Bet you weren't expecting me to return so soon! Ha! But seriously I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. Real life hit me extra hard this past month so I was not able to work on this story at all, especially with all my other non-giantess related writing projects. But I am back (at least for this chapter) and I've finally gotten the necessary ideas and will to continue on with this story! Now as I've mentioned before this story is a little harder for me because I don't have an ending in mind, plus I'd say the response to this one is noticeably less enthused so I'm not quite as keen to churn this chapters out. But I don't know maybe I'm wrong. Don't worry I definitely will finish it and if you are still interested please let me know! As always I lvoe to hear your thoughts and feedback so post away! That's about it for now, so hope you enjoy! (Also sorry this one is so talking focused, I plan to make the next one much more action oriented)

What was it to experience the cold? It’s selfish touch greedily steals away all warmth and comfort one might have. Or so Soren thought. Between the frigid waters draining away his vigor and the silt seeping up beneath his toes, Soren felt as though the cold earth was trying to swallow him. He would have allowed it too, if it weren’t for enormous pair of eyes watching him with fierce anticipation. Tryn lay adjacent to the lake, her head propped up by her arms.

“Why am I here exactly?” Soren suddenly yelled up to the giantess.

Tryn let her head slump for a bit. As the seconds waned she finally brought her chin up into her palm. Both of her gigantic pupils seemed eager to fixate on his diminutive form, but something staved her off. Each tugging implication that tried to sort out the vast array of swirling thoughts hidden in her skull seemed to mold her face into ever-changing expressions.

“You were filthy…” Tryn replied. Each word echoed off the cavernous walls, causing the water around the poor man to surge and ripple. “Besides” she went on, “we needed to talk privately. Nothing is private when those other little fleas are around. They hear everything…”

“W-why?”

A knot formed in Soren’s stomach. It kneaded against the bloody walls of his abdomen as he waited his captress’ response. Was this it? Was this his untimely end? No. Though he knew it was on the horizon he sensed she would make a point of making it public. Something about sending a message.

“Because…you bother me little bear.” Tryn replied. The amusement was finally gone from her voice. Instead she seemed mildly distraught, as though the sadness that lay over her when she with her thoughts finally broke through to the surface.

“I bother you?” Soren replied. He wasn’t surprised, she had made it quite clear many time before how annoyed she was with his disobedience. Then, as he continued to watch her he felt that she meant something completely different. The slight bobbing of her head, the way she seemed to chew the back of her bottom lip, belied some secret anxiety which she was tired of hiding.

“Yes well…I…hmph…” she paused again. Soren didn’t know what to say. All of a sudden he was incredibly homesick, but not for the camp. He wanted to go back to his real home. He eventually shook such thoughts from his head, he knew that such a place didn’t exist anymore.

“I…I what?”

Another brief scowl crossed her face. She hated this vulnerability. Even just those past few moments were too much to give him. Despite Tryn’s sense of weakness, Soren felt only confusion and her flash of anger didn’t help.

“Hush now. This is hard for me, and you will speak when I want you too!”

The thunder of her voice shook some soil loose from the rock face just on the other side of the lake. Some stones tumbled into the wake, distracting Soren briefly with their crescendo of splashing.

“Look it's…just…you’re weird. I don’t get it. You must be sick in the head, the others think so too.”

Such revelation stung Soren’s pride. He recognized the gap of differences between him and his fellow prisoners but he never took a second to consider their perspective. Soren found their mannerisms and modes of speaking quite backwards, it made sense they’d feel the same way about him.

“Wha-“

Tryn’s glare stopped him. For a second Soren retreated back within himself, paying attention only to the sand between his submerged toes and the few traces of aquatic vines that grazed his legs. He shuddered.

“As I was saying…” Tryn enunciated with some hostility as she reestablished her centrality. “You are perfectly willing to kill your own kind. Which I find odd considering the fact that I thought all you little people liked to try and get along. Then you come out looking for me in the woods. Don’t think I didn’t catch that by the way. Then, after all that you decide you’d rather die than give up the others because of what some….what was it? God? Some god says?”

Each word grew softer as she spoke, as if Tryn herself was still puzzled by their arrangement. Soren began step out of the water. At this point the cold liquid only served to make him feel smaller and filthier. Tryn took notice of her small companions approach, and bowed her head down till her eyes lay fixed on his tiny form.

Amid shivers from both the chill from the air and from Tryn’s gaze, Soren tried to piece together a response that might satisfy all her inquiries.

“Well?” Tryn finally concluded, lilting her voice with expectation.

“A…a shepherd must defend his flock.”

“Ugghhhh!” Tryn groaned feverishly with a roll of her eyes. The earth rocked, sending Soren face first onto the sandy shore, dusting him with coarse grains of silicate once more. When he finally stood back up he spat bits of sand out of his mouth.

“And another thing, you say strange stuff like that…Do you really think there’s some big…thing in the sky that created everything and is watching you right now?”

Soren began to retreat back to the water, shaking the grime from his boxers as he did. Once he reached the water he began to splash water onto himself to wash away the new coat of dirt.

“I guess. I mean, of course I do. God chose me for this task.”

“WHAT TASK?” Tryn finally cried out with exasperation. The deafening clamor briefly stopped Soren’s heart. “You think you’re on some mission? That you need to challenge me? You write little letters that never get sent, I don’t…I don’t get you at all. What is this some kind of ruse? Are you spying on me for them?”

“Them?” Soren finally squeaked out. He had failed in his attempt to hide his immediate terror.

“Yes your little green army…thing! Whatever you call it!”

“The Legion?”

“Yeah sure…”

“No…I came out here, they don’t even know that I’m…”

Her eyes narrowed. The two waited in absolute silence for nearly a minute before Tryn broke the awkward stagnation. Her titanic hand shot out from beneath, clipping two ancient oaks and knocking them to the ground as it moved toward the water. Soren shut his eyes and looked away, too senseless to consider any other defensive action. Tryn’s enormous fingers dipped down into the black current, sweeping beneath and around her tiny companion. Soren opened his eyes a few millimeters, just in time to see the water surge around him. Then there way chaos. Something upset his balance and sent him face-first into the water. He struggled, pushing up against the fluid above him, but he could not escape it! It was as though it were moving upward just as he was. Eventually, the water drained away around him, leaving him gasping for air on a moist, solid surface.

“Then why are you here? Tell me the truth, I’m tired of playing with you.”

Soren’s ears rang and his lungs moved so quickly that they hurt. When he rolled over he saw the placid pale face of his captress hanging over him in a grim mask of judgment. Both eyes sliced through his skin to peel away the raw muscle beneath. His joints could not function, he was powerless. For a moment he believed he had been liquefied, and now sat as a puddle on the palm of her hand.

“I’m…just…I don’t know. I thought I could do…something!”

“WHAT?”

“I don’t know” Soren cried back. Then came the sobbing. The ceaseless frenzied spray of emotion that made him crumple up into ball like the husk of a dead insect. That’s all he was anyway, an insect.

“I…Father Saul, he said I was special, that I was part of God’s plan, that’d he…he’d protect me!”

“What? Ughhh” Tryn’s expression dropped. Her words became softer, almost menacing. “There is no man in the sky. We…my people…they are this world’s gods now. If ever there was one before us he or she or IT is gone now. I mean…how can you still believe after everything’s that’s happened?”

“I just…I have to.” Soren choked back. The tears stopped rolling down his face. He rocked back and forth for a moment before sitting back up, wiping the grief from his face with the back of his hand. Tryn scrutinized him silently for a second.

“Why did you come to me?”

Soren sat musing. Truth be told he wasn’t entirely sure. Was it some faint hope, some wish to die? Did he really believe Father Saul’s words or was this all just a way to finally break his faith? Whatever the case may have been Soren was not conscious of it and thus could not give an honest answer. Eventually he shrugged, stifled a hysteric laugh and replied:

“I don’t know. I don’t…”

“Alright” Tryn interrupted.

“Alright?”

“Yes, alright. I believe you…”

Soren was stupefied. He rubbed his neck and tried not to look up at her. Something about that face still crippled his speech.

“Really?” he droned back.

“Yes, really. You are weird, but you’re not special like I thought. You’re just…confused. Am I right?”

“I’m not tha-“

“Of course you are.” She spat back quickly. Something else bothered her now. It wasn’t just his disobedience or the strange beliefs that bothered her this time. Something he did or said was snagged in her cortex. He felt that it would be best not to inquire.

“You’re small and confused and pathetic, just like the rest of your kind.”

Despite her harsh words they were said with a strange measure of sympathy. They did not have the usual spite or vindictiveness that usually carried through her speech. If anything she sounded relieved.

“Besides…” she began again “it will make it that much easier to break you…”

Soren froze. He didn’t dare look into those silvery eyes. He knew things were going to get a lot worse before they got better. Even as Tryn pushed herself off the earth and began to stand he sensed the torment to come.

Sure enough as she rose she began to stretch her limbs in the brisk twilight. All the while she kept Soren close; closer than she had before. Her hand nearly lay up against her chest. When she finally looked back down to him she wore a content smile.

“Oh come now little bear...don’t look so sullen”


Night had set in upon them like a predator seeking to engulf its hapless prey. The makeshift shelter that Tryn had erected hung overhead in the grayed dusklight as an uneasy but awe-inspiring canopy. It was a cathedral ceiling hanging overhead at impossible heights with impossible purpose. Around Soren the others had gathered, milling about in their usual ways. Some of the children huddled by the wreck of an old bus that Tryn kept near the canyon’s entrance. Thomas knelt next to Soren, his hands clasped tightly together as he rocked back and forth.

“Hmmm, not as much as last time Vic?” Tryn mused as she picked through the various bits of debris sprawled out in front of the lanky man. Victor stared up at her. Gone were the days that he’d avoid eye contact with the giantess. They had an agreement, albeit a shaky one. Neither could really stand the other socially, but they were both willing to make compromises. That’s what happens when strong personalities clash.

“No…” he stated blandly in reply. Soren watched with some adversity. He didn’t like being scrutinized by Tryn but for some reason seeing others face her was almost as bad. Not far off to his right Claire shifting from one foot to the other with half her fingers in her mouth. Soren  had just been introduced to her a few hours prior and Victor was very clear that he was not to come near her. Apparently they had some kind of fling going. It was evident. If Tryn’s voice saturated itself with anymore disdain Soren was convinced the poor little blonde would swallow her arm.

“Why’s that now? You used to be one of my best collectors Little Vic.” Tryn cooed. Despite the softness of her voice the poison in her eyes was enough to kill all those assembled.

Victor replied without hesitation. “I’m getting old, can’t get around quite like I used to…”

Tryn was rather displeased. Rather than lose herself in front of the others however she reigned back in her fury. Her eyes darted from the crowd of other humans waiting nervously off to the side before returning to the single man in front of her. She was not necessarily interested in spreading fear and dissension amongst her captives. Instead she favored consistency. She felt the need to punish Victor, though she knew it would do not good for the others to see as he would surely defy her nonetheless.

“You really are wearing my patience thin Vic...but I’m not gonna do anything, not in front of them at least…” Tryn’s voice trailed off as she peered back over to the others. They all shuddered in the grip  of her cold gaze.  “After all, that’s what you want. You always play the team player when I’m not around but will not hesitate to defy me in the most....trivial ways.” Tryn sat back up throwing her dark hair over her shoulder. She began to drum her fingers on her calf as she continued to drill into the ever defiant little human. “So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We will pick this conversation up later…”

Suddenly Tryn hand shot out, snapping down behind Victor with a tremendous thud. The others lost sight of him and could do nothing but watch as Tryn brought her other hand down and plucked Vic up between her thumb and forefinger. He made no noise as he was hoisted upward, or, if he did, the others couldn't hear it over their own exclamations of surprise. Claire clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle a horrified cry. Soren’s eyes grew wide, the gasps of the children were quickly hushed by those closest to them, and Thomas cackled with an odd sense of delight. A moment later Victor dangled aloft in parallel with Tryn’s shoulders. With her other hand she reached for the string hanging around her neck. Soren realized he never noticed it before. Had she always been wearing it? Drawing up from the loop was a small teardrop shaped pendant at least ten feet tall and six feet in diameter. With a few twists of her finger the bottom portion unscrewed itself, revealing a small cavity inside. Tryn carelessly placed Victor inside before fastening it closed again. With the fixture closed Tryn lowered it back down slowly till it rested against her body once more, disappearing from sight just between her breasts.

“What the hell was that…” Soren found himself saying aloud. Some others shots him dirty looks but most ignored him. Only Thomas took upon himself to answer the newcomer’s question.

“Hehe! Why, that’s the box my boy! Where only th’wicked go, ahaha! When someone’s causin trouble or keeps trying to escape she locks him away up there for a time! Only been once me’self. Wadn’t all that bad…”

Soren was still too perplexed to speak. His sweaty palms would not be wiped clean on his pants. It was only the tremor of confusion and doubt that kept him sated. Still, nothing really prepared him for what he had just witnessed. It was… well what was it? Soren couldn’t tell. It wasn’t shocking, hell it was hardly surprising. Yet something about the gesture stirred his stomach the wrong way.

“Next!” Tryn called out with more chipperness that before. “Tom why not you?”

“HAHA!” Thomas suddenly cheered. He lept from the ground like a savage dog and bounded back up toward the plot in front the cross-legged titaness. All the while Soren watched with a lump in his throat. Claire continued to stifle a few savage screams and someone else began to speak behind him. Soren registered very little of his surroundings though, as he was completely fixated on the gigantic enigma before him.

“Hmm, per usual you’ve found me much of what I’ve asked for...very good”

Soren thought back to the time Solomon commanded the devil’s to build his temple and wondered if they were like this. These immense, but ultimately human, beings that could stack stones with ease but gave no hindrance to the will of common men. How could it have been that way? Was all that separated this monstrosity from the regular mortals just a few hundred feet of height and girth? Now was a momentary scenery of judgement that brought only the trials of antiquity to mind. Great lumbering beasts and primordial things amassing in the celestial muck that would become the world. God’s hand dividing the light and dark. Soren collapsed in on himself, until he found the earth touching his shins once more.

“Knee’s takin’ a knee again-” joked another nearby stranger. Soren ignored them further, as he traced the numbers and the words on the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

“Tom stay still now!” Tryn suddenly spat. Tom sheepishly ceased his incessant tumbling and froze in place. As she continued picking through the debris Tryn gave a half-hearted smile before turning to her homemade satchel. “Alright I promised you a reward...hmm let’s see. Ah! Here it is”

From out her pack Tryn produced a rectangular green crate. Though only the size of her fingernail, to a human it would have been a rather sizable box. Soren recognized it as an old ammo crate, though what it contained he could not tell. After placing the container in front of her eager servant Tryn’s hand withdrew, allowing Thomas to speed forward and fling the chest open.

“Only take two now, and don’t think I can’t tell when you sneak an extra one away beneath your shirt! I know you well enough you little bug.”

Thomas took little heed of her woods, instead joyously collecting his prizes before running back toward the others. Tryn removed the crate and waited. As Thomas drew closer Soren saw that he returned with a large bottle of cough syrup in one hand and a handle of Aristocrat in the other. The lunatic’s joy was insurmountable as he paraded around with his winnings cackling and humming petty tunes, completely unresponsive to the bitterness surrounding him. Soren grew disgusted but felt no twinge of conceit seize hold.

“Little Bear!” Tryn suddenly called out. The others made no motion to respond to the giantess’ outburst. “Little Bear?” She repeated. Still Soren did not register the comment. Instead he wasted time gawking at things he had already been witness too, perhaps too tormented by the thought of what may happen next. “ENOCH!” She suddenly roared. The harsh vibration in the air snapped Soren back into reality. Even Thomas grew silent. A subtle nudge from Kate, who had suddenly appeared behind him, urged him to his feet. Then, his eyes rolled up to meet the antagonizing stare of Tryn whose patience was at an ultimate end.

“Come here…” she grumbled. Soren shuffled forward without a second thought. The few dozen yards between the crowd and the plain of arbitration felt like miles slogging across an arid desert. Finally, once in position, Tryn’s grim facade faded to something more akin to regret.

“You have gathered...nothing? Is that correct?”

“I…” Soren paused. He hadn’t even thought to collect, he didn’t know he was…

“No?”

“I have not…”

“Hmph, shame”

And suddenly there was shame. Above all else, amidst the fear, melancholy, confusion, and curiosity, Soren felt ashamed. It was a dusty contrition, mouldering over the sharper edges of his awareness. All zeal was lost, like another lamb to the slaughter he had come. And forward and forward he went. For out of all that he knew and all that we wished he had known there was a solitary disgust that festered inside his gut. At that moment he felt completely cut off from his old life and recognized that the path ahead was wrought with the debris of a thousand shattered souls that opted to become toys before corpses.

 

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