Naked Holocaust Part IV
“Run!! Get inside!! “, someone shouts
Not a bad idea, I think. I do just that.
The shadow of the giggling girl is enveloping our little crowd, as we attempt to push through. An enormous finger appears to my right, and pushes me aside, with the force of a moving car, sending me flying to the floor. I just have time to see another one coming forward as it grabs the guy just next to me. I see his face turn in to a mask of terror as the huge tree-like fingers surround his body, And I can almost hear the silent “No. Not me.” expressed in his dismayed eyes. His eyes that are looking at me as he reaches out to me with his hand. In a second his scream is coming from far above. I scramble to my feet, push against the people’s back, press towards the door. Looking back, I see the man high in the air, coming closer to the huge face of the young woman. She looks at him attentively for two seconds. Her green eyes look happy to meet him. There’s definitely a spark in them. Then she sets him onto her outstretched tongue. I have a glimpse of two arms appearing over the side of the tongue, as the victim attempts to throw himself over side. But too late. His screams are suddenly muffled by the closing lips. I am at the door, pressed on all sides by other bodies, when I hear the uncanny swallowing sound.
The room is a mess of toppled chairs and table and the floor is slick with ketchup and God knows what. I’m running towards the stairs, when the vast fingers crash into the glass façade of the little shop, in a crystalline explosion. Outside, the enormous face of Amanda Singles is covering the whole view, as she leans forwards to see inside the shop, plunging the place in near obscurity.
Yet another scream. I feel grabbed. My heart goes to my throat. “Not me” I think, right on cue. The man grabbing me is terrorized. I feel an incredible pull, and see the two fingers that caught his legs. He is dragged outside. And his fingers are sunk into my leg. I fall to the ground , among the glass shards, and toppled chairs, and both of us are being dragged towards the terrace. All I can see outside are enormous lips, on which runs the humongous tongue. No. I grab a small cement pillar. The man screams as his fingers let go of me. I see his body disappear in the air, out of my view, as the giant face lifts up, replaced by the smooth flesh of her stomach and light comes back into the room. More screaming ensues. I’m rushing down the stairs, among the echoing shouts of the fleeing customers
My mind is in serious panic mode. I just want to get out of here. I can’t believe what has happened over the last three minutes. I jump the steps as fast as I can, following the many rushing backs in front of me. Everyone is shouting. Floor after floor we go down, till at last we get to the exit.
There are conflicting interests at play here. Some people are desperately trying to exit the building. We can feel the walls shaking, as if some wild assault was taking place in the upper floors. Some others desperately want to come in, probably somewhat unnerved by the spectacle outside I guess.
I’m all for staying indoors; I sure don’t fancy coming to a close call again. Of course, in the general flow of the customers, pressed on all sides, I find myself standing in broad daylight, in front of the building. People are running everywhere. All the folks attracted by the awakening two hours ago are now far less interested in staying around. Somewhere on my left, gunfire is nearly continuous, like a loud waterfall. I turn round and look at the giant feet planted on the driveway of the building. My eyes follow the impossibly high curves of the calves, the immensity of the thighs till they reach the huge womanhood in the shadow of the thighs. High above, the naked hips are already deformed by perspective. Higher still, the vast body is well erect, looking all the more impressive that I see it for the first time from ground level. Hell, I couldn’t even reach her ankle if I tried. I watch as the young woman is introducing yet another squirming victim to her inner being.
She does not seem to be affected in any way by the myriads of policemen and soldiers who have been busy shooting at her for the past 15 minutes. I can’t even see the impacts on her skin. Hell, she could at least show some reddening, but no, not a mark Bullets must either disappear in her vicinity or re-bound on her like oil on a Teflon dish. No effect whatsoever. I start running to get to the other side of the street, as she seems busy with catching people close to the coffee shop building. Every time she bends down, her groping fingers flying past me. I feel sick with fear, before the sad pang of relief strikes again when I hear someone else’s wail.. I jump into a little alley between tow tall buildings. Any life form with an ounce of survival instinct would have been half a mile away by now. Not me. I have to see this.
The giant body seems to be covering all the surroundings, as she stands in the middle of the cross-roads. She does not seem to be aware of the gunfire, as she crouches down, and snatches a running figure off the ground, and brings it to her mouth.
She absentmindedly steps on a parked car. I hear the metal go crunch, while shards of glass fly explosively in all directions, quickly followed by the instantaneous explosion of the tyres. The mass of the girl is such, her foot actually touches the ground. The car is flattened to pancake proportion. She stops and looks down at the metallic remains. As she crouches down to inspect it, her huge bottom is hovering a mere meters from me. I could touch the vast orb of flesh near me, and I must confess the thought actually crossed my mind. The flagrance of her skin is washing over me. A man is running across the street, a minuscule figure crawling at a snail pace in front of the massive feet. The girl is looking down and her gaze goes from the flat car to the fugitive. She stands again, developing her huge frame (I see her well toned thigh muscles bulge ever so slightly) and makes a step forward. The giant toes catch the running figure and send sprawling across the tarmac. Her big toe is hovering over the prone form. I look up and see the amused smile of the young woman. She really seems to enjoy this. She slowly starts pressing her toe on top of the man, who is now crawling desperately in the deep shadow. I hear his scream turning into a quick gurgle, and in a split second later the toe flesh is pressing hard on the ground. The man himself is no longer visible (except in the slick presence of projected fluids and guts). An unreal giggle resonates in the awakening city. With a pout on her face,Amanda Singles takes a moment to smear the reamains on the alsphat, all across a zebra passage. Then, apparently satisfied with the result, she directs her attention down the street, where dozens of people are now running between the abandoned cars.
Walking slowly, nearly carefully, she applies her feet excatly on the frozen lane of cars, squashing all them in a screeching din of crushed metal. People are stuck between all the opened doors , and try to jump over trunks, only to disappear under the enormous landing feet. When the giantess has reached the end of the avenue (still looking very very large) she turns round and makes another pass. Any of the stragglers and injured are [i]methodically[/i] targeted by her naked feet. Two men are caught by the huge toes, gently herded aside by the round mounds of flesh and slowly ground against the base of a building, leaving a gruesome red graffiti. A cop is standing between her feet, shooting at her crotch (does he think this her weak spot?). She laughs gaily and starts crouching down. The officer is seeing the error of his ways, i think, and is already running, but the giantess has set her hands behind her on the ground (inadvertantly squeezing to death a woman under her flattening fingers) and, balacing her huge mass on the ball of her feet, lets her enormous ass hover above the running cop. With a slow motion, the enormous body comes to rest just on top of him (and a few cars) burying him under zillions of tons of ass. The young woman is happy with her stunt, and lets out a sound that I can only interpret as a playful "Oups" . A few minutes later, melted cars and squashed bodies are all that is left of the once busy street.
In a moment, Amanda is back where she started, just a few meters from my alley. I can see the vast feet resting on the ground near me, dirty and the soles somewhat covered in clotted blood.
She’s standing there, legs akimbo, her hands on her hips, apparently very pleased and excited, looking down around her, in search of moving things. She’s so tall, you can’t see the whole of her in one eyeful. I have to crane my neck to see the golden hair on her shoulders. When three police cars show up at the other side of the street and come to a screeching halt, a big smile stretches on her serene face. She passes her hand on her brow and gathers her long blond hair around her ear and walks to them. The police cars have stopped and I can see some scrambling inside. Four officers jump away and run to the cover of the building. Wise. The third car is suddenly blasting backward in reverse gear. But already Amanda is settling her foot on top of it. I see the passenger trying to open his door. Too late though. In a second, nothing is left of the car and its occupants. When she steps away, she takes time to raise her foot and scrap the squished car from her sole. It crashes on the tarmac with a loud bang. Everyone inside is now less than a foot tall. I see the giant girl turn in to 23rd Street, disappearing behind the town-hall building and after a minute of hesitation, where I listen to a cacophony of screams and honking and crushed metal, well, I follow her…
By the time I reach the intersection she’s quite far in the distance. Most of the street is already nothing but a graveyard of junk cars and squished bodies. The rising sun is straight in the alignment of the avenue, still low on the horizon, bathing the whole scene in its rosy light. I see the girl stopping and looking up at it, putting her hand to her eyes to avoid the glare. The contours of her perfectly toned body (she was after all a yoga teacher in another life) catch the sun rays, emphasising its curveyness. She’s looking at three black spots hovering in her direction. In a few seconds the spots’ blurry shapes have resolved into threatening-looking attack helicopters from St Andrew’s base. The dull vibrating noise of their rotors is reaching me now, as I walk along the building in their direction. The girl is just standing there, with an intrigued look on her face. Her hair has hardly been blowing at all in the morning breeze, it is so heavy. But with the approach of the copters, the first locks begin to dance in the morning light. She seems delighted with the new arrivals.
I cheer, along with many people (not as insane as me, they are looking from the windows of the adjacent building not strolling like me among bodies on the street) when I see the trails of the missiles draw their cloudy lines on the sky in the direction of the woman. She just watches them coming and takes it. The explosions are loud enough, and even from where I stand I feel the sudden heat, while I crouch on the ground protecting my head. When the double fireballs that engulfed her torso finally dissolve in the wind, the young woman lets out a joyful laughter and suddenly jumps to catch the new toys. I can’t believe my eyes, when these thousands of tons of flesh suddenly leave the ground, her breasts swaying madly. The giant hands miss the copters by quite a good distance, but the wind of their approach sends the machines in an uncertain revolving dance for a few seconds. The boom of her landing back on the ground shakes the entire district. Smiling, the young woman relaxes, and just sends a kiss to the copters, while a second salvo of armour-piercing missiles is already flying … One of them misses and comes my way.
I jump into the destroyed shop of a record dealer, looking for shelter from the coming blast. As I lean against the wall, awaiting the explosion, I stare into the poster of the “Attack of the 50-foot Woman”, pinned on the opposite wall. The blast finishes off what was left of the window shop. The laughter that booms shortly after tells me more than I needed to know. A man in the record shop is tentatively moving out to try see what’s going on in the street. “Oh my god…” comes his drained voice. Just then I hear a terrible rumbling coming from the far side of the street, followed by short explosions and a din of crushing glass. I step out as well. No longer interested by the copters, the girl is half crouched, and busy gutting the tenth floor of a building. One of her hand is propped against the angle of the sky scraper, while the other one is foraging inside. Glass and broken cement parcels are still falling down. The copters hovering above seem to hesitate to launch a third volley so close to civilians. The young woman is withdrawing her hand from the hole she created in the flank of the tall building. I can see through her half closed fingers a chaos of chairs, drawers, electrical cables.
Kneeling down now and opening her hand, The young woman separates the pieces of furniture from the people she trapped in the wreckage. Chairs and other objects are negligently tossed down on the street. Three people are apparently moving now in her palm. She grabs one delicately with her fingers and, craning her head back, lowers the screaming woman into her mouth, quickly swallowing her. She takes the other two, pinning them face to face between her fingers and deposits them on her tongue. When she swallows, her throat accommodates their passing into her vast cavernous inner body. The copters pilots have apparently come to a conclusion and launch a new salvo. The blooming flowers of fire send their burning flagrance down the street. I check again. Not a single strand of hair is singed. She just goes back to the building and enlarges the hole, like a bear attacking a beehive. Less than forty minutes have passed since Amanda Singles has had her boyfriend for breakfast and the two main arteries of the city already look like a war zone, strewn with debris, fires, and smashed bodies.
Among the carnage, a group of marines are making their way towards the giant shape of the woman, as she concentrates on catching the office workers above. I watch them take their position behind half-destroyed cars and resume their shooting. I know now what the little plastic green guys must see when they’re played with. (Although beautiful naked girls are not their usual customers, I suppose). One of the soldiers gestures to me to stay indoors, but I ignore this good advice and he’s too busy to care. The crisp machine gun noise is deafening. Some mortars are fired at the vast body. Some guys with complex communication equipment are shouting orders or taking commands. Every one of the soldiers look stunned and enraged by the total lack of reaction from the young woman. Magazines go empty, guns are reloaded. But her breakfast is in no way disturbed.
A rumble sound is coming from the building. And it starts to visibly sway forward. From its base a sudden river of people is gushing out of the ground floor exits. The huge woman is letting out a shout of glee and crouches furthers to catch a few runners in a big swap of her hands. She extends a foot towards the entrance doors and smears a dozen of the fleeing people in the tarmac. The marines have stopped shooting, with the sudden appearance of the civilian escapees. They can only witness with horror, as the girl is tossing the captured people in a big mouthful of wriggling bodies. The giantess is just starting to savour them, when the building starts toppling forwards, all its front support pillars damaged or destroyed by her insane foraging (and possibly some recent rocket explosions) We can see her start raising a hand to protect herself when the massive edifice crashes on top of her crouched shape, and into the opposite high-rise. An enormous rumble fills in the air as all the storeys crash upon the giantess. A huge billowing cloud of dust rush to fill the space in all the adjacent streets. Marines shout and crouch behind their cars, holding their helmets, and I frantically retreat into the record shop, grabbing a piece of cloth to my mouth. The next second, a storm of dust rushes past in the street and fills up the shop in its dense folds….
After a few minutes of coughing and spitting and eye-watering blindness, I attempt to look outside. The street is nowhere to be seen. A humongous pile of debris is occulting the length of the avenue, and the rays of sun are just about piercing through the heavy dust. I hear the first cheers echo from the marines ranks. A second later, faces appear in the windows of the buildings about us, and the cheering gets louder. No motion comes from the destroyed high-rise and the mountain pile of debris. The giantess created her own doom, burying herself under thousands of tons of steel and concrete. We can still hear the drum of the copters rotors hovering above the incredible scene. As the cloud drifts slowly to the ground, I can vaguely see a huge hand protruding form the wreckage. It looks limp and lifeless. The marines are cautiously moving toward the huge pile. Coming in the opposite direction, survivors are being greeted by firemen. Everyone looks like moving statues of dust.
As I walk back to my car (which I had parked a mile away, to enjoy an early stroll in the city), I keep spitting on the ground. My teeth are grinding on all the sand stuff I breathed back there. The first cordons of policemen and firemen are rushing to the scene behind me. The ambulance sirens have replaced the din of the firearms and rockets explosions. It evokes one of these catastrophe movies of the seventies. But in a way, the sound is nearly peaceful to me, its plausibility a welcome respite from the maddening thumping of the giant feet and the loud giggles that dominated the morning. I still have to come to terms with what I just saw.
My head is full of the terrible images of the morning. I had never seen so many bodies, so much blood before. I had never brushed with death so closely. My body is still tingling with adrenaline and I feel light-headed, walking like a zombie in the slowly populating streets (people are coming out in the open now, the news must have been broadcasted that the threat was over) . I look at the faces and see the shock that everyone is experiencing. I know that this shock is spreading at lightning speed through the entire planet. We got the surprise element here, but now I wonder how people feel that are living near one of the still sleeping giantesses. They no longer live near a strange landscape of attractive feminine shape. They live near an enormous time bomb. The fear that has been palpable over the past few months is going to turn into serious panic if a pre-emptive solution is not found quickly. Every human being is now living within reach of a new dominant predator. I still have on my retina the hungry look in the giantess’ eyes this morning. The satisfied expression on her beautiful face when she swallowed these people. The happy purring when she rubbed her vast naked belly. (I wonder briefly if they can get to her in time under the building’s wreckage to save the people in her stomach) .
A thought comes across my mind. Amanda Singles was one of the “small” giantesses. What about the " BIG" ones?
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At long last, I can see my car now. Like everything else, it’s covered in a whitish layer of dust. A news car is flashing past me, rushing to the site of the catastrophe. They have their task cut out for them today. A rumbling sound is coming from there again. Other buildings must be collapsing. I’m reaching for my keys in my pocket when I hear my name being called. “John!, John! Wait for me!” I turn round and see a man running towards me. It takes a second before I recognize James under the distraught face and dusty face. I wave at him. I never saw him leave the coffee shop. It feels good to see someone familiar suddenly.
“Start the car!! Start the bloody car!!”
A strange object is flying high in the sky roughly in our direction. It’s spinning real fast on its axis. I stare at it, as it reaches the apex of its trajectory and start descending and growing faster. My brain stops wondering at last and I instinctively duck as the huge thing silently passes 20 metres above us, and disappears behind a tall warehouse. I blink. It was a military armoured tank.
nostromo