Everyone was laughing and partying around Caleb, but his attention was entirely on the dark water before him.

His mind often wandered when he was out on the ocean, but today he couldn’t keep his thoughts organized at all. Caleb blamed it on not being able to sleep well; the past few months had been filled with insomnia and bizarre dreams. The worst of the nightmares had involved a cult worshipping a strange and awful god, and those dreams always ended with the smoldering ruins of cities. He would awaken afterwards covered in a layer of sweat, his body shivering violently. Once, he had apparently sleepwalked and he found that he had written an enigmatic message on the bedroom wall: I want more.

Someone slapped Caleb on the shoulder and he tore his gaze away from the ocean. Brett, the young man who had chartered Caleb’s boat, grinned at him and placed his sunglasses on top of his wild black hair.

“Dude, this is excellent,” Brett said, his speech slurred by too many hard seltzers. Caleb smiled back politely but didn’t reply. It was obvious that Brett’s friends were also having a good time, partying on the deck of The Pythia. A blonde woman in a bikini recorded herself on her phone while several men enthusiastically chugged beers.

Brett swung his head around drunkenly and looked out at the water, which was reflecting the vibrant purples and oranges of the setting sun. In the distance, a tiny, ominous shape rose out of the Atlantic.

“Hey, is that Gadon Island? You know, the one that was destroyed recently?” Brett asked, swaying and grabbing onto the nearby railing for support. Caleb shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn jacket and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Sailors tended to be superstitious, and Caleb found that he couldn’t say the name of that cursed place without his skin prickling. None of the locals mentioned it, the island that had weathered hurricanes for years and then had been wiped from the map. There were no survivors, the Coast Guard reported. Just the flattened remains of buildings and other structures, the sole town completely destroyed. It had been an appalling disaster for the area.

“I heard that there was weird stuff going on.” Brett gripped the railing tighter. “Like witchcraft or something.”

Not witchcraft. Caleb had never been to the island, and yet somehow he knew that it was something else. Something indescribably powerful. He closed his eyes and an image from one of his nightmares appeared: people crying and clawing at each other, trying to flee as a vast shadow settled over them. No matter how fast they ran, He would hunt down every single one of them. The god that they had served for so long had turned on them, and now they faced His endless appetite.

“You okay, man? You’re as pale as a ghost.” Brett’s voice disrupted the horrific scene and Caleb’s eyes snapped open.

“I’m fine,” Caleb muttered, stepping away from the concerned young man. He mumbled an excuse about needing to check on their location but once he was out of Brett’s sight, he went back to staring at the water, transfixed.

***

Caleb had found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the ocean.

He had been born in a small seaside town, and he had left briefly, driven by ambition. Caleb had earned his MBA from Harvard (“Hahvahd” the tourists would say, snickering, as if he hadn’t the joke a million times before), and then he worked in New York City for a decade. But in the end, he was drawn back to his birthplace. Caleb had returned to the seaside town and found a job with a charter company. Eventually, he purchased his own boat. The original owner had called it The Pythia and Caleb decided to keep the name.

The boat was his pride and joy. He had taken it out on numerous charters, and so far they had all been successful. But that night, as the sun disappeared below the horizon, Caleb was filled with the feeling of dread. There was no apparent reason for it; the sky was cloudless and the sea was tranquil. But the dread lingered in his stomach. An internal voice warned him to go back, to refund Brett his money and to stay safe.

And then another voice emerged, this one so much stronger: No, you’re doing the right thing.

Caleb listened to the second voice, and The Pythia continued its voyage through the still water.

A fishing boat slowly moved in the distance, the only other vessel that he could see. He watched it for awhile; then he felt the faint tickle on his upper lip. Dabbing at his face, Caleb was surprised to see blood dotting his fingertips. It wasn’t common for him to get nosebleeds, and as he searched for a tissue, he heard an excited shout from the bow of the boat.

He rushed out to see what the commotion was about. Brett and a few others were clustered on the bow, pointing to something out on the ocean.

“Holy shit, is that a whale?” Someone exclaimed, and that set off more chatter. Caleb wiped away the blood from his nose, and frowning, he made his way to the front of the ship. All that he could see was the fishing boat, its lights little more than minute pinpoints in the distance. Then, as his eyes skimmed over the ocean, he finally spotted it.

Something was swelling in the water, but Caleb instantly knew that the rising form wasn’t a whale. A humpback wasn’t that big; not even a blue whale was that enormous. Nothing living could reach that size, and a hushed silence fell over everyone as they watched the immense shape approach the fishing boat.

“What the hell is that?” Brett asked softly, and Caleb felt his mouth open on its own volition. It was as if he had been transformed into a puppet and some invisible force was pulling his strings.

“Me,” Caleb answered, and the word and the voice weren’t his own. Terrified, his hand flew up to his lips. No one paid him any heed; they were too focused on the impossible situation unfolding before them. The shape exploded from the water, stretching out toward the night sky. Its sheer size would have rivaled the high-rises that Caleb had seen back in New York, and even more astonishing was the fact that it was humanoid.

Hands shaking, the blonde woman raised her phone and began to take photos; no one else moved, too amazed to do anything but gawk.

The god has returned, Caleb thought, and he wasn’t sure why the idea invaded his mind.

Pale moonlight outlined the broad shoulders of the giant, which were as wide as a bridge, as he towered over the fishing boat. The other vessel was too far away to see the reactions of the crew, although Caleb could imagine that they were utterly shocked. Caleb himself could hardly believe his eyes, although there was a part of him that understood that this was inevitable, that the universe was somehow correcting itself. Those thoughts were so alien that they frightened him as much as the leviathan looming in the distance.

Another droplet of blood trickled from his nostril.

The fishing boat bobbed up and down in the water, hammered by the sudden waves that were generated by the giant’s movements. It was smaller than a child’s toy to the titan, barely noticeable, and yet he seemed interested in it. Very, very interested. Everyone on The Pythia froze, unable to look away as the giant’s hand emerged from the ocean, the fishing boat stranded in the center of his palm. Even the blonde stopped taking photos, statue-still as the colossus peered down at the insignificant thing in his hand. Delicately, gently, the giant pinched the fishing boat between two fingers, raising it toward his face.

Somehow, Caleb knew exactly what was about to happen.

The titan’s full lips parted and he tipped the fishing boat over his extended tongue. Like grains of pepper falling from a shaker, the fishermen tumbled from the boat and landed onto the huge expanse of his tongue. The lucky ones, anyway. Others plunged the thousand feet or so into the sea, their bodies colliding with the water.

Although The Pythia was a great distance away, Caleb and the others heard the earthshaking gulp as the giant swallowed the fishermen. Brett cried out, and then his friends joined him. Caleb remained silent, bearing witness to the horrifying being before him.

The giant swiveled his head in their direction, his eyes catching the dim light and gleaming like two beacons.

“We need to get out of here!” Brett shrieked, and Caleb found that his mouth had been commandeered once again.

“It’s too late for that,” the thing said, its rumbling voice pouring through Caleb’s lips. “You belong to Me.”

Brett seized the front of Caleb’s jacket, his fingers digging through the fabric. Terror was etched deep into his features. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“I have returned,” the thing possessing Caleb told Brett. The other man tightened his grip on Caleb’s jacket, and he probably would have thrown him overboard if the gigantic wave hadn’t pummeled the boat. The Pythia nearly capsized, and two of the guests were catapulted out into the ocean. Caleb clung onto the railing for dear life, cold water crashing into his body. Waves continued to rock the boat, heaving the passengers around, and he quickly saw what was causing them.

The giant was swimming toward them at an unnatural speed, churning up the water and causing tidal waves that could have demolished buildings.

Caleb saw the immense face surrounded by damp tendrils of brown hair, the grayish-blue eyes that were the same color as the ocean. He recognized it as the face from his nightmares, beautiful and fearsome. This was the god of Gadon Island, as well as its destroyer. The islanders had worshipped him, offered him sacrifices, and ultimately, he had betrayed them, feeding upon their bodies and souls.

Like he would feed upon those in The Pythia.

Caleb didn’t question how he had gained such knowledge; it had something to do with the dreams and the eerie way that his voice ceased to be his own. The way that the entity — the giant, he realized — used him to communicate. He and the colossus were inseparably intertwined, sharing one another’s thoughts, and he felt the first twinges of madness.

As the boat finally stopped rocking, Caleb craned his head, looking up and up.

A seemingly endless wall blocked out the silvery moon and the stars and the ocean. It took a moment for him to understand that the gargantuan hills and valleys weren’t some geographic feature but the giant’s abs. Now that the colossus was so close to them, the reality of his mountainous size was even more startling. Despite the fact that his head was tilted backwards, Caleb couldn’t make out the titan’s face. But he didn’t need to see it; he already knew about the maliciousness that lurked within the colossal eyes.

One of the giant’s hands moved, many times larger than The Pythia. It erupted from the ocean, water cascading down from the fingers in sheets, and it reached for the people who had been thrown overboard. They panicked, tried to swim away from the hand as it came for them. The blonde in the bikini was the unfortunate victim; she shrieked as silo-sized fingers closed around her.

It was incredible to think that such a vast being could pick up someone so small; then again, this was also a being who defied the laws of physics, who could invade minds and whose abilities were beyond human comprehension. The giant lifted her up, so high that her screams became almost inaudible, and scrutinized her. Caleb hugged the railing tightly as his mouth twisted and then opened.

“You’re not worthy,” the giant using Caleb’s voice declared. The cries abruptly stopped as the titan popped and ground the tiny body between his fingers. He gazed at the spot of blood on his finger pad, minuscule and insignificant, and then turned his attention back to the boat. The water became turbulent again, The Pythia helpless against the white-flecked waves. A column of swollen flesh rose up, churning the ocean even more, and the thing was so mammoth that it took Caleb a second to realize that it was a cock. It hovered dangerously close to the little boat, the musky warmth of the giant’s erection combining with the cool, briny air.

The god has many appetites, he thought, horrified and mesmerized.

A massive drop of precum beaded from the cock head and oozed down the skyscraper of flesh. Brett managed to get out of the way in time; one of his friends didn’t move quickly enough. The droplet crashed down and slammed against the unfortunate man, pulverizing him beneath tons of viscous goo. The impact rattled the boat and cracked the deck. If such a simple, unnoticed action could cause so much damage, it was obvious that there was no way that The Pythia was going to survive any sort of major interaction with the behemoth.

The giant plucked another person from the water. This one passed inspection, and so he wasn’t turned into a bloody smear between the titan’s fingertips. Instead, the man was lowered down toward the gigantic erection, where veins as thick as subway cars pulsed and throbbed. He began to thrash when he realized his destination: the enormous dome of the cock head, glistening wetly in the moonlight. The poor man couldn’t even fight back as he was dropped down into the slit, his body disappearing into the dark chasm. The titan shuddered once, then twice, the penis twitching powerfully.

“Yes,” the giant said through Caleb, the pleasure evident in his inhuman voice. “I can feel that. Keep squirming for Me.”

Caleb tried not to think of the man trapped somewhere in the titanic shaft, still alive and probably terrified as the living tunnel squeezed around him. He gradually let go of the railing and staggered forward, his boots nearly sliding in the huge puddle of precum coating the deck. Brett was hunched near the starboard side of the boat, too frightened to do anything but murmur to himself. Others wept or held onto each other, knowing that they were doomed. Hundreds of feet above them was the gigantic penis, dwarfing the boat and casting a shadow over everyone.

The leviathan wrapped his fist around his erection, and his head tipped enough that Caleb was able to see his face, teeth glinting in a vicious smile. The god would enjoy this small offering, Caleb knew; their lives were destined to provide a brief, fleeting moment of pleasure, nothing more. In a way, Caleb accepted his fate. Who could possibly hope to stand against a being who could tear apart submarines with his bare hands, who could level entire towns with ease? In the presence of so much power, he could do nothing but watch.

Another meteorite of precum plummeted down from the heavens, this time landing beside the boat. Icy water sprayed Caleb’s face, and when he reached up to wipe it away, he saw more bright blood on his hand. It was now leaking heavily from his left eye as well as his nostrils, a reminder of the supernatural connection with the titan and its tremendous toll on his body.

Above him, the giant moaned thunderously, the sound blasting Caleb’s eardrums. Temporarily deafened, he stumbled back and forth with his hands over his aching ears. The titan didn’t notice him; he was too absorbed in leisurely stroking himself, savoring the dying struggles of the man inside of him. Maybe it was that eerie connection, but Caleb felt the pleasure as well, wildly sensual and quite unlike anything that he had ever experienced. His body reacted, in thrall to the titan’s will.

That unearthly pleasure grew and grew, rupturing with such violence that it took Caleb’s breath away. He fell to his knees, looking up as the first volley of the giant’s cum arched over the boat. Already he knew that the second shot was imminent, and he continued to gaze upwards as the violent deluge struck The Pythia. His vision went brilliantly white and then black as everything — the boat, the other passengers — were smashed to pieces.

***

He should have died, drowned in the Atlantic or in the musky thickness of the giant’s semen. Miraculously, Caleb survived, although agony swept through him as he floated in the water. Five towering pillars emerged from the ocean, curling inwards and surrounding him, and he realized that these were the giant’s fingers. As the titan’s hand lifted, he found himself on the vast plane of a palm. With unexpected care, the giant brought Caleb up closer to his face, his grayish eyes studying him.

In one of his college classes, Caleb had learned about Anubis, the Egyptian god who judged the souls of the dead. Beneath the intimidating gaze of the giant, he felt like one of those souls, and he feared that the giant would simply open his hand and let him fall to the water far below. After several heartbeats, the titan hadn’t dropped him, hadn’t judged him to be unworthy.

Blinking away the blood and salty water, Caleb thought about the remains of his boat as it gradually sank down into the dark ocean.

Don’t think about the boat, the godlike voice boomed, this time within his head. You have Me now, My Oracle.

“What do you want?” Caleb whispered, daring to look at the massive face. Within the chilly pool formed by the cupped hand, he trembled, knowing what the answer would be. He saw the ravenous hunger and lust in the being’s eyes, an appetite that could only be whetted, never satisfied.

“That island wasn’t enough to sate Me,” the god speaking through Caleb said. The colossus turned his head, gazing in the direction of the mainland, and the image of countless ruined cities and trampled towns filled Caleb’s mind. “I want more.”