“So then what happened?” Jenny asked.

I shrugged. “They just kept on travelling, the two of them. The entire world was opened up and they both wanted to see it. Now that they had each other, there was no longer the fear of having to do it alone.”

“Awwww, I like that.” she sighed, lifting her head up from the table she had been resting on. Jenny and I were hanging out in the library today during our study hall period. Though we were supposed to actually be getting work done, we had long since given up on that.

“And how long did it take you to write that, again?” she asked, stretching her vast arms. By now I had grown used to seeing Jenny in her 12 ft tall form. Truthfully, though, the height fit her larger than life personality.

“A little over a year.” I answered. “Keep in mind, the actual document is much more detailed. I tried to make it read like an actual book, so it stretches on for a while.”

“Still, I loved the plot. I’ll have to read the whole thing.” she said.

I smiled. “I appreciate the thought, but you don’t have to.”

“You make it sound like it’s an obligation.” she scoffed. “When will you realize that I enjoy this stuff? If you write giantess stories, of course I’m going to want to read them.”

“. . . . Thank you,” I said after a pause.

“No problem,” she replied, her stretching completed and her attention now entirely on me. “Now why don’t you tell me the other story I want to hear?”

“And that would be?” I prodded.

“Why you won’t ask Monica out.” she obliged.

I groaned, which only made the situation more entertaining for her.

“When will you stop being interested in my personal life?” I asked.

“When you stop being personally interesting,” she fired back.

I snorted but said nothing. Something in her eyes deepend, as did her smile.

“Alright then, on to more important matters. What game should we play today?” she asked.

I looked up from my laptop, where I had just been editing a story. It had been a few days since the last time we had done something giantess related together. Jenny loved her games, especially now that I had joined in on them. But she was also very conscious of overwhelming me by playing too often. Even though I love her games as much as she does, I have to ease myself into things. Still, after a few days of typical teenage drole, I was itching for something exciting.

“Did you have something in mind?” I asked in turn.

“A game of chase.” she said.

“Ah, finally giving me the chance to even up the score.” I noted. We had played a number of games of chase since that first day in the school. They haven’t always turned out well for me.

“Yup.” she confirmed. “This is going to be a fun one.”

“So where are we going for this game?” I asked.

“Well . . .” she drawled. “I was thinking of shaking things up, a bit. Your story gave me an idea.”

“Oh?”

Jenny nodded. “I’ve been way too narrow with the way I’ve been playing for a long time. I haven’t been opening myself up to other possible . . . stages, let’s say, for playing.”

I blinked. “Stages? You mean, like, in a video game?”

“Bingo!” she exclaimed. “We always knew I could take you anywhere in the world. Let’s try any when.”

I pushed my laptop aside. “But wait, I thought you said you couldn’t control-”

All at once, everything around me became significantly darker . . . and hotter . . . and louder . . . and-

I was in a fucking jungle . . .

All around me were trees that definitely didn’t inhabit North America. Were I better at geography, or ecology I could probably pinpoint which part of the world I was in. The animals did little to help, as they were mostly heard and not seen, save for the birds that flew overhead. Wherever I was, it was evening and the sun was on its way down. Off to my left I could hear the sound of a nearby river, a big one, rushing towards some far off destination. I had no idea where I was, or what Jenny had in mind, but the game was now on, so I had to get playing. Without any real sense of direction, I figured the best move would be to follow the river and see if it lead me towards any kind of inhabitants.

As soon as I started walking, I became aware for the first time of the new clothes I was wearing. Tan khakis, a beige shirt, a leather jacket, and a wide brimmed hat. Slung across my shoulder and resting on my hip was a well worn satchel, filled with who-knows-what. I grinned.

“Well played, Jenny.” I muttered. “Well played.”

Adjusting my hat in a very Indiana Jones fashion, I set out to follow the river. The terrain was unpredictable, with dips and inclines at every step. Combined with the myriad of trees and foliage around me, I was truly in a natural maze. Still, it was nostalgic in a way. It brought me back to the times when I was very young, playing in the woods, pretending to go on adventures just like this one. Finding my way back to that same mindset, to that childhood imagination that allows kids to become the embodiment of the heroes they pretend to be, I brought that same energy out again. I was the ultimate method actor, traversing the land with all of the mannerisms of the movie character I was dressed as. There was a treasure to find here somewhere, an adventure to be had. As the self-designated witness of Jenny’s games, it was my job to see it all. One day I’ll have to write a book.

Assuming I don’t die, of course. That’d be a bummer.

After perhaps twenty or so minutes of walking, I became aware of a new sound that stood apart from the orchestra of nature. Off in the distance I heard what could only be described as the echo of drums. Big drums, and a lot of them. So powerful were the rhythmic beats that, for a second, I thought Jenny must have been treading towards me in some giant form. But there were no tremors to go along with these booms. So then people were behind this, and definitely a lot of them to make such an overpowering noise. Pushing on, I followed the beat of drums through ever dense foliage. Finally, when the jungle reached its borders, I found myself standing before a great city. Enormous structures, built of stones and red clay, rose around me. Some buildings were taller than they were wide, while others were the opposite. Each building was different from the next, but huge in their own respects. They required extensive steps to reach the top, some of which were wide enough for fifty people to climb at once, shoulder to should. Off to one end of the city were a great mass of individual buildings grouped together into one organism. House, perhaps. The rest of the structures stood independently. What immediately drew my eye, however, was the shape just ahead of me. An enormous Mesoamerican pyramid, square in base, and built in specific levels that made it like different sized blocks stacked on top of each other, forming gigantic stairs on all sides. Human scaled staircases also were carved into each side, leading up to the top, where hollowed doors allowed wanderers to enter and view the pyramid’s inner secrets.

A stone pathway began at the base of the pyramid, running backwards in my direction. This pathway was lined by men in minimal, yet at the same time extravagant, outfits and body paint. Kneeling before great drums placed between torches, they beat at the instruments in quick unison, casting their music back into the jungle I had traveled through. There were a lot of drummers, as the pathway stretched before me for at least 100 yards. Just at the base of the pyramid, a large area was left opened up, with a stone stage in the center. Surrounding that stage were many female dancers, dressed twice as flamboyantly as the men. They wore minimal dresses of various blues and reds and greens and purples. The dresses themselves barely covered their breasts and crotches, leaving the rest of their bodies entirely naked, save for the massive feathers they also decorated themselves with. They danced back and forth to the beating of the drums, spurred on by the howlings of the crowds of men and women on either side of the stone path. At the beginning of this path, not thirty feet from where I was crouching, were two burly men holding spears. Standing between them was a much smaller figure, dressed in more modern day clothes, with their wrists bound in front of them, and a hood over their head. I liked reading about ancient civilizations and knew a bit about a number of different ones, but I was no history buff. Still, you didn’t need to be one to know what was going on. One of the guards reached over and removed the hood from the smaller prisoner’s head.

It was Monica.

This time I gasped out loud. All of the other men and women in the area were unrecognizable to me. So why was she the only one I knew here? At once it became clear. I don’t know what it was Jenny had in mind by this, but I can hardly see how offering Monica up as a human sacrifice will set us up. I had to remind myself, though, that this was one of Jenny’s games. She doesn’t allow people to get hurt, and there’s no way she’d allow Monica to be killed on an alter. These probably weren’t even real people. They were probably just illusions, like from that time in the woods when we acted out the story. There’s no way they could hurt her.

That theory got thrown out the window the second I felt an obsidian dagger at my throat.

I’m no expert on dagger-feeling, but I’m betting that this one was real.

Not wanting to risk my neck on a smartass remark, I elected to raise my hands and keep quiet. Whoever was behind me didn’t say a word, and instead pushed me out from the brush. Some of the guards turned suddenly once my presence was revealed.

“An outsider!” one exclaimed in a thick Mesoamerican accent.

“Yes,” answered a gruff, male voice behind me. “Attempting to stop the ceremony. Now we have two sacrifices.”

Monica took the liberty to turn around and, when she saw me, her face immediately lit up.

“Dr. Loya! You came back for me!” she exclaimed.

I nearly tripped over myself after hearing that. Luckily the Mayan warrior behind me was polite enough to give me a shove on the back, throwing me back into balance somehow. I took my place besides Monica, trying to process the scenario. Dr!?

“A-are you alright?” I asked.

“I am now,” she whispered. “I hope you have a plan for getting us out.”

“I . . . am working on it.” I said, trying to get into character.“What did we just get ourselves into?”

Monica surveyed the scene around us. “From what I can gather, we’re in the midst of a traditional Mayan sacrificial ceremony.”

I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat. “Yeah, I don’t like that. Can you gather something different?”

“Judging by the dancers’ garb I’d say this is a ceremony dedicated to one of their many goddesses.” she went on. “The only trouble is I can’t seem to figure out which goddess.”

A single tremor reverberated through the area. I sighed. “You’ve got to be listening in on us. There’s no way your timing is naturally this perfect.”

If she was listening, she gave no indication as she approached. By now I was so used to Jenny’s entrances that they hardly fazed me anymore. Monica, however, was always experiencing them for the first time, as far as she could remember. So I didn’t object when she pressed her body against mine for comfort. Jenny’s 100 ft tall form soon rose above the trees, still leaving her as a silhouette for a moment, though. It wasn’t until she stepped into the limits of the city that the light fell on her, revealing her outfit. I gaped openly.

Jenny wore a single, long strip of blue silk beginning at her right wrist, traveled up the length of her arm, wrapped under her arm, covered her right boob, went around the back of her neck, came down to cover the left boob, continued under her left arm, poked out over her arm, and ended at her left wrist. Holding this length of silk in place were gold cuffs on either wrist, adorned with various precious stones, and gold bands on her arms. A necklace of more gold and jewels hung around her neck, with an identical belt at her hips. The belt held up another length of silk that hung in front of her. Though it reached to her knees, it only actually covered her crotch, leaving her legs bare whenever she stepped forward with one. A third length of silk did the same thing behind her. Her face and body were decorated with exotic paint designs that did little to cover her up in any way. Lastly, her look was completed by a pair of exquisite earrings, and a majestic crown that circled her brow. Other than that, she wore nothing else, leaving her more naked than I had ever seen her before.

Instinctively I put a protective hand over Monica’s shoulder.

“Now, Monica-” I began.

“By the heavens!” she breathed in wonder. “Dr Loya do you see her!”

I blinked. “I’m seeing too much of her.”

“I would have never imagined that the deities the Mayan’s worshipped were actually real!” she exclaimed. “Dr Loya, do you realize what this means?”

“That I actually have to pray in the morning?” I asked.

She turned to me. “There might be others like her! Hidden somewhere in the mesoamerican jungles! There could actually be a secret race of giants on the planet that we had never known about!”

I blinked again. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“The natives here seem to know English very well. Do you suppose this giantess knows how to speak it?” she asked.

I sighed. “Fair enough. I would have lost my mind to if this had all been dumped on me from out of nowhere.”

“If we can open a line of dialogue between ourselves and her, we can learn more about her kind.” Monica went on, not listening to me. “She may not want to sacrifice us if we can demonstrate what we can offer the Mayan people.”

“Granted this was dumped on me out of nowhere.” I continued. “But then again I’m used to this kind of thing. So I guess that’s helped keep me sane despite all of this.”

I paused for a second as what she had said fully registered in my brain. “Sacrifice!”

The guards behind us began pushing us forward, using their weapons to herd us down the line of drumplayers. Jenny, in the meantime, kept walking towards a gigantic structure that I took to be one of the temples. It wasn’t until she sat down upon it that I realized the entire thing was a throne, scaled exactly to her size. As soon as she rested comfortably in her seat, the dancers ran to the foot of her throne. Jenny looked down on them as they lept about, throwing ribbons of silk in the air as they danced for their goddess. Meanwhile, other men and women approached her feet and began rubbing themselves against them, using their entire bodies to try and give the giantess a simple foot massage. She nodded in approval to both groups, maintaining a stoic disposition the whole time. I had to hand it to her, she was quite the actress.

“This has got to be some massive ego trip,” I muttered sarcastically.

“Did you say something Dr. Loya?” Monica asked.

“I said ‘This has got to be some massive ego trip’,” I repeated for her.

That remark got me a swift elbow in the ribs. “We’re about to come face to face with a real life Mayan goddess! Please try and show some respect!” she hissed.

“No. What we’re going to do is get the hell out of here as fast as humanly possible before anyone can sacrifice us to her.” I countered.

“Escape? We have a 100 ft tall giantess right in front of us. Where do you suggest we go?” she asked incredulously.

“Preferably in the opposite direction.”

We both stopped talking as we approached the base of the throne. On either side of us were small groups of devoted worshippers, not slacking in their efforts to please the feet of their goddess. In one swift motion, the guards behind us struck Monica and I behind the knees, forcing us to kneel before their deity. Jenny reached down with one menacing hand, managing to grasp both of our puny bodies at the same time. She brought us up to chest level and continued to look down at us in silence. The reserved expression she continued to wear became all the more unsettling. For as long as we’ve been friends, Jenny has been one of the most bombastic and expressive individuals I’ve ever met. To see her lively and upbeat personality be replaced by this . . . nothingness, worn upon the face of a giant, was a completely different version of fear than I’ve ever felt before.

“Jenny?” I asked. “That you in there?”

She didn’t so much as utter a word. My friend, the Mayan goddess, only bore into us with her gaze. Monica cleared her throat.

“Mighty, divine goddess of the Mayan people.” she began. “I am Dr. Monica Williams, professor of anthropology at Cambridge University. This is my college, Dr. Jonathan Loya, professor of archeology. We have only come here to learn of your people, the Mayans, and mean no disrespect or offense by our intrusion into your city. It is my hope tha-”

She was cut off when Jenny lowered us onto a stone ledge that jutted out from the right arm of her throne. On the ledge stood several other men and women, having been brought up by a stone staircase that had been carved into the side of the monument. They were of various sizes and ages; with each one holding food as an offering. We were dropped unceremoniously onto the ledge, and one of the men standing by was then grasped in our place. The Mayan male looked as if he were holding back on a lot of emotions as he was lifted up into the air. Oddly enough, though, he appeared happy more than anything else. Jenny lifted the man above her head as she opened her mouth. Even as he was lowered into her gaping maw, the man never so much as cried or screamed. The others around us were looking on in open wonder at the sight before them. I personally had already seen this enough that it neither shocked, nor amazed me. Without chewing, Jenny toyed with the little man a bit in her mouth, before swallowing him in one gulp.

They never mentioned sacrifices like this in ancient history books.

We didn’t have much time.

I hastily searched through my satchel for anything of use in a situation like this. Among various assorted items I found a Smith and Wesson revolver, string, a lighter, a knife and some empty glass test tubes labeled MANGANESE. Despite the urgency of the situation, I grinned. So, Jenny thought she could stump me by taking away my favorite trick? This was going to be fun.

I took the bullets out from the Smith and Wesson and dropped it back into the satchel. If missiles couldn’t phase her then the gun was useless as a threat. The bullets, however, were still very useful. Removing the bullet itself from the shell was pretty difficult, and took a number of tries each time to unstick the thing. When they finally came free, I tossed the bullet aside and kept the shell. Taking one of the empty test tubes, I poured the black powder from the shells inside, sealed the cap back on, and punctured a small hole in the cap with the knife. Monica continued to watch the sacrifices in horror.

“Dr. Loya,” she whispered. “I’m sorry . . . I think this is the end . . .”

“Oh this isn’t the end.” I offhandedly replied while I worked. “Well, it’s an end, but it’s a lousy one. Very lazy writing. That’s why I was brought in. Need to do something about that. Pass me your canteen, please.”

Monica finally managed to pull her eyes away from the gruesome deaths of the Mayan sacrifices to notice me. “Dr. Loya . . . what are you doing.”

“Building a god machine to fight the goddess.” I answered. “Call it a deus ex machina, if you’d like. Really it’s more of a plot device, but the pun is too good to pass up. Canteen, please.”

See passed me the canteen while I looked around at the few sacrifices left on the ledge with us. Each one carried with them some kind of food as an offering along with themselves. One woman standing close by us, who happened to be looking curiously at what I was doing, held a clay bowl filled with peppers of various colors.

“Perfect.” I announced, standing up and plucking a fat red pepper from the bunch. “Gracias.”

Cutting off a length of string, I soaked it in the burning juice from the hot pepper, and threaded half of it through the hole I had made in the test tube’s cap. Next I emptied the canteen of water, using it to cleanse my hands of the irritating pepper juice. Jamming the pepper first into the canteen so that the top of it stuck out, I then wedged the test tube firmly in the top of the pepper. I wasn’t a moment too soon, as Jenny had finished the last of the sacrifices . . . other than us, of course.

The goddess licked her lips as she slowly reached a giant hand towards us.

Monica held back tears. “Dr. Loya . . . if this it, I just want you to know tha-”

“Whatever it is, don’t say it.” I told her. Taking the lighter, I lit the tip of the string. The pepper juices helped it burn much faster than it would have normally. I grinned “Save it for when we’re actually about to die.”

Taking the canteen in my hand, I cocked back my arm, and aimed. For just a split second I saw Jenny break character, as curiosity, and perhaps a bit of doubt, manifested in her expression. Putting as much strength and technique into the throw, I pitched the canteen right at her. I didn’t even stop to see if the throw was good. As soon as it left my hand, I grabbed Monica by the wrist, and bolted down the steps of the ledge. Barely a second later, our escape was spurred on by a very audible BOOM!

“What was that!” Monica yelled.

“Dynamite!” I yelled back.

“Where did you learn how to make dynamite?” she exclaimed.

“Mythbusters!”

We reached the bottom of the stairs and were now sprinting across open ground. Most of the guards had been in front of the throne during the sacrifices, but one lone guard happened to be walking by the back, and was not running for us, spear held aloft. Pulling out another pepper I had saved, I broke it open, lit the inside on fire, and tossed it towards him. The man dodged it, but was unable to prevent the smoke from entering his eyes. His senses were assaulted by the burning fumes of the pepper, and he stopped dead in his tracks. I only wish I had kept more of those things. Pepper spray bombs would have come in real handy at a time like this. Especially since I noticed a now looming shadow over our heads. Taking only a brief second to glance upwards, I was blessed with the sight of the sole of Jenny’s foot, descending towards us. With a somewhat unmanly yell, Monica and I poured on the speed, narrowly avoiding her crushing sole. The impact behind us jarred our bodies, pressing us to keep moving. Adrenaline was coursing through my system at this point. We practically flew over the ground. All the while, Jenny’s feet pursued us.

Up ahead of us was a Mayan temple, much closer to the ground than a pyramid. Realizing it was our only hope of escape, we headed for it, taking the steps two at a time. Another overhead shadow chased us, this one in the shape of a hand. We didn’t dare waste time looking up. Monica and I approached the top of the stairs and dove inside the nearest doorway. The walls around us shook as Jenny’s hand made contact with the stone walls. The doorway was just barely big enough to allow her hand to fit inside, but it was a tight squeeze. This gave Monica and I the chance to hastily crawl away from her encroaching fingers, as she struggled to reach further inside. They stopped moving towards us after only a few feet, having reached the limit of space her arm could occupy inside of the temple. Withdrawing her hand, Jenny peared inside, giving us a close up view of her painted face, more beautiful up close than from ground level. She fixed us a level gaze, but never uttered a word. When she finally withdrew from the doorway, we were left in silence and apprehension.

Monica looked over to me. “Are we safe here?”

“I don’t know.” I confessed, standing to my feet and brushing the dirt off from my clothes. “Let’s just assume no and work from there.”

“So then what now?” she asked.

“We need to get to the jungle. Put as much distance as we can from the city.” I squinted towards the darkness of the temple. Reaching into my satchel, I pulled out a flare and struck it to life. “You know anything about Mayan architecture?”

“I’ve studied extensively, but not all temples are built the same.” she informed me.

I shrugged. “Good enough for me. Make sure you keep holding onto those final words. Never know when we might need them.”