Smoke hung in the evening sky. Puffy white vapors wafted from the hood of a car that had seen better days. Its headlights lay behind a foggy layer of haze. A once fresh, brilliant coat of paint was now weathered, faded and chipped at various places.

There was a silhouette within the plume. Its form was that of a man, lanky, and dressed in droopy clothes. As he emerged from the vehicular-generated cloud, a spindly arm was drawn across his brow, rustling thick, brown bangs. This action smeared grease over his boyish face. The black stain was heavily contrasted against pale skin, the shade of a ghost.

He retreated from the hood of the car, upon observing the plume beginning to dissipate. With a satisfied sigh, he made his way to the diver-side window. Peering in, he gave a wide smile to the occupant, a youthful woman with flowing blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She reciprocated, before turning the key to her car. A powerful roar emerged from the automobile, clean and deep.

The hood was shut, for the car was now fully operational. Peeking out of the driver’s side window, the girl shouted out, “Thank you!”

He opened his mouth to respond. Before he could utter anything, from addressing her gratitude, to perhaps initiating conversation, the girl’s head retracted, and her eyes were consumed by the smart phone obnoxiously held right in front of the steering wheel.

With a somber nod, the man began to trod off. Lifting his eyes to the sky, he bore witness to a blanket of gray clouds. It was a crushing backdrop to a line of brick-laden townhouses he ventured past. The only break in monotony was a rather plain court and clearing. Within, it lay host to a quaint, simple church, topped with an ominous bell tower. As he stared up the gothic structure, the sky began to darken.

A blast of air from the nostrils of the atmosphere nearly unseated his blue denim jacket, causing it to wave in the wind. One of his hands flew to his head, attempting to settle his long, straight hair. Teal eyes spotted another man approaching him, facing the immense gales much in the same manner. He bore a ratty t-shirt that displayed a symbol of a fish, one with small legs and feet growing out of it. Embedded upon the torso of the abstract creature was large font that spelled out “Science”.

At this point, the sky had been rendered completely black. What little light present was provided by streaks of stark red. Everything, from the sidewalk, to the grass, to the townhouses to the church was coated in a gruesome shade of blood.

The man approaching gasped, his face, covered with thick glasses, twisted into an expression of absolute horror. “Good Lord it’s the apocalypse,” he exclaimed.

After uttering this, he sprinted towards the church.

The bell began to toll, compelled by the winds that assailed it. The long-haired, youth-faced man remained rooted into place, mesmerized by its sway. Thin lips parted ever so slightly, listless and speechless, until one utterance of final resentment escaped.

“Even at the end of the world, I’m dying alone.”

He, Macintosh Appleson, resigned himself to fate.

…

From the inky atmosphere, a figure emerged. Over the city skyline, it loomed over even the tallest skyscrapers. Only an imposing silhouette could be discerned.

The anomaly was humanoid in shape. Wider hips and an accentuated chest gave off a feminine appearance. Bulges enhanced its arms, while the legs of the creature were substantial and stocky. It was power given shape and form. From the leviathan’s back sprung four wings, leathery and large, their combined wingspan nearly double the creature’s length. The pair on top were twice the size of the pair below.

Billowing in the apocalyptic winds, the creature’s magnificent spiked hair swung wildly, black as the rest of it, arranged in a manner that resembled the rays of a lightless sun. Two malignant glows, as crimson as the ominous glowing streaks in the sky, pierced through the blackness. Irises they were, cast  against black sclera, scanning the city-scape below. They laid their enormous gaze upon the terrified, fleeing throngs of civilians. From her position up above, the populace would appear as ants scuttling in vain for sanctuary in fragile boxes of steel.

Feet, as human as the rest, save for their charcoal-gray exterior and sharp, talon-like nails, sunk into the adjacent lake. Puny vessels, whether they be speedboats, luxurious yachts, or bulky cargo ships, fled the monolithic appendages, each utterly outclassed. One particular speedboat flew too close, but managed to avoid disaster, the hull of the boat scraping against a massive toe, the prime digit of the bunch. Despite the creature’s skin taking on a shade as dark as the night, the vessel’s pilot could still perceive ridges etched in the toe, much like his own.

To all nearby, their minds began to succumb to her presence. Those closest, within the lake, and at docks, began to clutch their heads and scream wildly. Further away, catastrophe was dampened, yet still present, as men, woman and children collapsed, faint from the domineering aura their feeble psyches could not resist. Even for residences who could not manage a glimpse of the creature, could feel their shoulders weight down and eyes droop.

While the mayor’s office lay far from the center of town, and even further from the coastline, all those who held power were captured. Sweaty palms grew pale as they gripped the edges of their richly upholstered seats. Furrowed brows were coated in stressful precipitate. Several officials stood at attention in the clearing, before the mayor’s desk. Their neatly pressed black pants were trembling, while proud broad shoulders sagged much like the rest.

The mayor himself, a middle aged man that sported a full mane of gray-speckled black hair, was currently leaning over his polished wooden desk. Shaking hands were clasped together, braced against the surface. They were the only things keeping him upright.

Right next to him was a man with younger features. He required no such support to remain standing, yet the presence of the creature still weighed upon him. Through round spectacles, he gazed down upon his burdened leader.

Like a spark in a dry area of the woods, the mayor sprung. He leaned back, screaming his throat out. Curdling shouts pierced and disturbed all who resided in the room. His clammy hands took hold of his face, as if at any moment, his jaw would drop off, his eyes would pop out and his skull would split in two.

Within his head, a low, yet feminine voice rang, cold as the emptiest pits of space, searing with the cadence of the bluest stars. “Are you the one who commands this city?”

Attempting to regain some form of dignity, the Mayor stood upright, pulling down the flaps of his navy blue suit jacket. “I’m – I’m just the mayor, oh God!”

The voice continued, “Prescience has led me to your planet. I am here to collect that what was promised to me, eons before your species were exalted over their kin.”

His trembling tone reached pitches he never thought in his repertoire, “T-take whatever you need, I’m in no position to-”

“A name has been given form.” interjected the creature, “I am looking for one called Appleson. I can sense him, but precisely where he lays, I know not. Your resources will be most helpful.”

The mayor furiously nodded, “A-anything!”

His arm extended, ending with the snap of his fingers. The advisor pushed up his glasses as his superior rambled to him, “Search Appleson, appleson. I want police records, mailing addresses, anything!”

“And give up whoever it is to this … thing?” the upright man objected.

“It’s him,” the Mayor declared, pounding his fist upon his desk, “Or us! Not to mention humanity itself!”

It was the advisor’s turn to shake his head, barely even nudging his slick, combed-back hair, “Want me to fashion for him a cross and a crown of thorns so we can sacrifice this innocent soul to save us all?”

“We’ll make a religion out of him as a consolation!” growled the mayor.

Beady eyes narrowed, before the advisor relented. In his arms lay a tablet. His fingers began racing across it, pulling up several windows of information for him to digest. The atmosphere of the mayoral office had concentrated, to the point where a knife could make a clean cut through unoccupied air.

Luckily, none had to ponder the agonizing silence for long, for the advisor shouted, “Found him! Lucky for us, only one Appleson in town! 23 years old. His apartment is on the northeast sector, where all the bars are. He isn’t married.”

“He works for a motor repair shop on Main Street.”

The imposing voice could be heard by all. Legs bent and gave out. Men covered their ears and groaned. Women screamed in despair.

Even the stoic advisor could not resist, “Oh dear Lord! How are you-”

“-I merely needed a reference, to find him within the great chorus of Terra. You have been most helpful, I shall now collect.”

...

Even though Macintosh resided near the outskirts of the city, the image of the invader still loomed over, massive as ever. Her stocky, bulging thighs were partially obscured by the bell tower. Traces of blood-stained illumination highlighted the various bulges of muscle that adorned her, from her toned biceps and shoulders, to the curves of a chest whose size he could only imagine. Just below her massive mammaries lay neatly arrayed ridges of abdominals. Faint rays of light emphasized the definition of her stomach, sculpted in a manner that put to shame the finest of Renaissance artists.

While this creature’s skin was of a dark shade, long streaks of glowing crimson raced across her flesh. They were faintly visible, were within perception if Macintosh but squinted his eyes. These streaks in many ways resembled veins, pulsing and fading in a steady rhythm.

His breath left him once his gaze settled upon her face. The behemoth’s features were barely visible in the dark light, but they composed that of a young woman. He speculated that if it were not for such an ominous color scheme and colossal stature, she would have certainly caught the eye of any man who coveted such a beauty.

Macintosh shook his head in disapproval. Of course, it’s the end of the world, and this is all I’m thinking about, there’s more important things in life to hold on to.

Still, as he remained transfixed upon her glowing, crimson gaze, he could not help but get the impression that the luminous irises were exclusively focused upon him.

“No way she’s looking here,” he dismissed under his breath, “I have to be like a grain of sand to her.”

“A more appropriate reference would be to that which you call ants.”

A crawling sensation made its way up his spine. Even so, despite the quaking ground and howling winds, there was warmth that began to spread within his cheeks.

He heard a rumble, then a silent chorus of screams. The creature was moving, as one of her mighty, olympian arms began to stretch out. Macintosh’s mouth hung open. Though she lay miles away, there was no doubt that she was reaching for him.

Macintosh’s body was yanked from the ground. Air exited his gullet as he was pulled. Wind whipped through his hair, flailing it wildly. Nothing of hers touched him, yet he knew it was her will that compelled him so. He flayed his arms and legs, instinct provoking him to provide some sort of resistance. But, against this unstoppable force, he was no unmovable object.

As the dark shadow of her outstretched hand drew ever closer, he let out a scream.

Larger and larger her hand loomed. He began to catch the darkened etches of lines and folds within her expansive palm. These immense details expanded further and stretched beyond comprehension. Macintosh passed under her fingers, looming structures in their own right. Up above, he gawked, for he wondered if he would even be detected as a speck upon the tips of one of her digits.

There was a certain odor of her he could detect. It was like that of fire and ash. The smell of burning coal entered his nose, and he uttered a cough.

Soon, he was slammed against her skin. It was tough and taut. The membrane barely even shuddered as his puny mass impacted it. Yet, it was also smooth, inhumanly so.

She turned her palm upright. He was stuck to the surface by her will, yet momentum compelled dizziness assaulted his senses. The world itself was turning. Rapid breath strained his throat, as he felt the terrain orient itself into something he could stand on without falling off.

Finally, after a turbulent journey, everything had come to rest.

He heard a new sound, one both familiar and alien all at once. It possessed a tempo, a tempo that matched the rate of his breath. Macintosh felt himself compelled forward and back, but this was not the transient psychic force that had grabbed him earlier. No, this was accompanied by gales that tossed his hair and rendered his skin wrought with goosebumps.

The force that he was subject to was her own breathing.

It smelled more of the same, that of intense char, as if her maw was an abyss to the depths of hell itself. Macintosh dared to face the hurricane, and immediately resisted the desire to empty his bowels. Before him loomed her face, larger than many buildings. Each detail, while hampered by darkness, was no doubt present and visible to him. From her full, slightly parted lips that could swallow an entire block, to a towering nose that required him to crane his neck just to conceive of its length, to two piercing, overwhelming eyes that burned with the intensity of stars, the creature’s face was the very picture of armageddon. It was frightening, yet enticing, full of destructive potential that made his skin crawl, yet filled with enough beauty and symmetry, he could remain hypnotized for hours.

The crimson streaks that ran across her body, were also strewn over her face. Their pulsating glow appeared to hasten, as well as her breathing. Upon the cheek area, where they were concentrated, the red upon them appeared to intensify. The surrounding atmosphere had been clogged, given tangible mass.

Her lips, dark as the rest of her, hung parted. Like lumbering lizards that preceded man, they moved. And, from the depths that lay beyond, a voice rumbled forth.

“I anticipated this event most explicitly for 20 thousand of your years,” she declared, every syllable ramming into Macintosh with the force of a locomotive, “You, who are to be the provider of vitality so I may bear children.”

Macintosh could only stammer in response, his mind thick with implication, “wha- wha- wha-. Wait! Slow down! Children?”

An exhale blasted him, lifting the frail, young man off his feet, before sending him sprawling across the vast terrain of palm. The creature’s voice had begun to rise in pitch, as flustered tones snuck through her imposing cadence, “Fate indeed has marked you! I have suppressed my presence, but still, you are not losing consciousness at such close proximity! Your face, which has occupied my mindspace for eons, is even more aesthetically pleasing in the flesh!”

“What are you-“ he babbled. “I-“

The world had begun to move once more. Sheer momentum pinned him on his back, not even allowing his arms to rise. Beyond the horizon of her hand, he witnessed the dark plush form of her lips grow ever closer.

He gazed into the void beyond, taking the form of a mouth that could swallow several two-story houses. Within, he witnessed the only part of her that was not of a dark shade. In a neat array lay pearly white teeth, arranged in the same manner as any of his fellow men. One frightening difference, however, were the upper canines were longer and sharper than average, much like that of a vampire. As he peered further into the abyss, he caught a smoldering red glow that resided within the back of her throat. What powered such a sight, Macintosh could only speculate.

The great black destroyers closed, puffed and puckered. He felt the plain of her palm tilt forward, though he remained firmly glued to his position, not sliding down even an inch. Heavy breath washed over him, bathing his form in moist, hot, charcoal-stained air. Prowling just behind her towering teeth, slithered a dark red tongue, more narrowed and pointed in comparison to what he was familiar with.

Despite all this, for some strange reason, Macintosh felt the hem of his jeans tighten. He dared not dwell on exactly why.

Soon enough, he could count the individual folds and bumps that lined the creature’s lips. Wind ceased, and darkness swallowed his vision as he was pressed into their surface. Her flesh was surprisingly tender, and it engulfed the entirety of his body. A low, thundering moan shook every cell that composed his being. He noticed the same sound exited his own mouth as he was smothered against her colossal kiss.

Macintosh’s heart had accelerated into a frenzy.

Her palm relented, pulling away. However, he remained stuck, adhered by a thin film of saliva. The young man turned his head to and fro, gawking at the terrain of flesh that surrounded him. He knew where he lay, yet it proved difficult to peer beyond the surface of her lips.

A howling exhale released him. He was tossed through the air once more, before smacking back into her palm.

Black clouds billowed and expanded. The waters surrounding her grew turbulent, as vessels great and small struggled against the waves by her feet. In mere moments, she was swallowed by the miasma. It soon dispersed, leaving no trace of the creature.

Up above the atmosphere, where countless stars lay crystal clear, while the soft curve of the Earth glowed below, inky black clouds and flashes of red emerged. They expanded and writhed, until the dark form of the creature materialized, carrying her prize. Giddy, glowing eyes gazed upon her beloved speck. What rare, powerful substance flowed through her, raced ever faster, while the beating of her chest could have awakened the entire Milky Way.

The most adorable human squirmed in her hand, before squeaking out in dulcet harmony, “S-space? I can’t survi- How am I breathing?”

A smile formed upon her lips, “Worry not, I have tasted of your planet’s atmosphere, and can replicate its exact composition and pressure.”

Her luminous crimson orbs caught him rubbing the back of his head, ruffling lovely locks of brown hair.

“That’s pretty neat, you’ve got a lot of nifty tricks up your … uh … wings I suppose?”

There was a compelling desire to mash this magnificent creature against her lips once more. Even more so, she had to hold back an uncharacteristic high pitched squeal.

Macintosh was growing dizzy. While the domineering presence of the creature certainly did not help, turning around and surveying his surroundings had disturbed his orientation. Yet, the soft teal glow of Earth’s atmosphere, accompanied by the eternal twinkling of countless stars had hypnotized him.

Eventually, he had to settle his wonder, and halt his curiosity, for one thought dominated his mind and his vision. He gazed into her brilliant irises, inquiring, “You, you brought me up here for a reason, haven’t you? What’s all this about? You said some strange things back there.”

“Forgive me for my hastiness,” she apologized, her lips forming into a small pout, “I have been rife with anticipation. It has been ordained that you were to be my … hmm, your terms escape me … friend?”

Her massive face adopted a contemplative posture, as she continued, “No, insufficient. Companion? Closer. Oh! Indeed, you are to be what is known to your kind as “husband”, and “father”. Time and space have spoken this to me. Yet, even their grandiose gestures do not compare to just … bearing witness.”

Macintosh had frozen solid.

“Husband?” he blurted out, "But, we don’t even know each other!”

“I know much about you,” she replied, “Although I have not properly introduced myself.”

Her eyes narrowed, while the tone of her voice darkened, even threatening to swallow the black void of space itself, “I have been called many names, but the one I answer to is Sathanastia. I travel the stars as a destroyer, annihilating planets, stars and civilizations, before consuming the remains. It is my role, so that the universe may not be overgrown and overcrowded.”

There was a pause. A cautious voice then exited from the puny speck in her palm, “Are … are you doing this to humanity? Please … I”

A low chuckle made it past her lips, “It is wondrous that you defend your species with such vigor. But, no, it is not time for Terra to face oblivion. Your species still has a grand destiny to play out before it is to be judged. I do not destroy life, unless I have been ordered to.”

Macintosh let out a nervous laugh, “Well thank goodness for that!”

Once the echo of her voice dissipated, silence reigned. It was a true silence, for no ambience of racing cars, distant chatting or chirping birds could fill the space. Space itself absorbed all noise. Only the steady pattern of Sathanastia’s breathing was present.

Her lips parted once more, as if she were to speak again. Yet, a voice did not emerge, instead, out came her teeth. They clenched the skin of her bottom lip. Her eyelids drew downwards, partially eclipsing her eyes. Macintosh desired to look away, as the red streaks in her cheeks burned ever hotter. Even better, he wanted to fly, fly through the atmosphere and land home, for her desire had become plain. 

Finally, she spoke, but her majestic drawl was tempered by a slight stutter. “If” she began, “If you are put off by … me, which I understand, I shall not disturb your civilization again.”

Her luminous orbs averted their gaze. Sathanastia’s face was that of bashful hesitance. A steady quake challenged his already precarious sense of orientation. But, it was not he who was trembling.

His eyes widened, and his breath departed. Realization finally dawned across his face. Macintosh’s mind had been made dim by the journey, but now, now all that he saw was rendered in crystal clarity.

“You’re really serious about this? You want … me? That’s why you came?”

He was tossed about, as her hand moved once more. This time, her palm trapped him against her cheek. The young man was pressed most intimately near one of her exposed, glowing veins, a structure that was as wide as a neighborhood street. Burning, pulsating warmth overwhelmed him, while her voice boomed in the distance, “Oh Macintosh Appleson!” she shouted, “I wish to whisk you away into the veil of stars and reveal the depths of my passion to you!”

Before she got carried away, he was pulled from her cheek. Her other hand quickly covered up her mouth, as if the gesture would save her from embarrassment.

Chattering teeth and stammering tone marred his response, “Maybe we … I dunno … uh … think of … ah… marriage.”

The creature had managed to recompose herself, although her cheeks retained their enhanced luminance, “I shall observe the necessary Terran traditions and rituals so that I may make you my husband. You are willing, are you?”

“Well gosh,” he exclaimed, gathering himself up once more, “It’s a lot to take in, and you’re, well, you’re pretty in a sense …”

He fought to maintain composure, for he could hear the smallest of squeals escape the apocalyptic entity.

“We’d need to meet my parents,” he continued, “I think my Dad might be okay with you, heck, he might be happy that I finally got a girl. Mom on the other hand …”

Sathanastia narrowed her eyes, “’Mom’, there is a peculiar inflection in which you say that word. As if there are powers hidden from my sight that I must be aware of from this ‘Mom’.”

Macintosh nodded, “Yeah … my Mom can be pretty scary.”

“I shall tread with great caution around her.”

There was no sense of duplicity, nor comedy, as she said this. Of course, it doesn’t matter how much this gal can blow up, once Mom blows up over her, it’s game over.

But, for all his anticipation, there was one issue that had held him back. “You, Sathanusi- Sathanastia, huh, that rolls off the tongue real nicely.”

He heard a giggle, “It is good you have found it so.”

The young man pressed on, “Why me? I know you got some premonition, but I think, especially to a real extraordinary lady like you, I’m just some disappointment. I’m a speck on your finger for goodness sake! And even if you’re just set on some human, I’m the bottom of the barrel! Girls back home wouldn’t even-“

“Humility is a most enticing virtue, one that you possess in excess,” she interjected, “Although it can distort one’s view of their own self-worth if left unchecked.”

His head hung low, “I think I got the gist of what you’re saying.”

Black lips spread into a smile that stretched on for eternity. “Worry not, there are worse aspects to possess in excess.”

Macintosh felt his breath then shorten. His sight dimmed, while his very consciousness appeared to float away. Sathanastia’s smile disappeared as a result.

“It appears I’m unable to maintain your atmosphere for long. This will be farewell for now. But remember my beloved Macintosh …”

Black miasma consumed his form. He felt himself transported. Streaks of black and red rushed past him. It was as if he was both flying, and falling with style. Soon enough, before him was the bell tower. Below his feet lay not flesh, but asphalt. The sky had resumed its gray overcast shade.

Macintosh gazed around, shaking his head, considering for a minute, that he had been caught in some sort of dream.

But, from the sky, like a bolt of lightning, Sathanasia’s voice struck.

“…I shall love you for all eternity.”