Rainwater blurred the camera lens that was angled towards the dense fog overhead. A constant stream of updates rolled across the news ticker. Screams and horns blared in random intervals, but the scene was static, its only motion the shiver and sway of the cameraperson managing the view. A crowd bustled by, just their heads seen as they dash away together, away from what was being filmed. Suddenly, a quake was heard, a low rumble that stood out from the storm and the masses. Yet, the fog remained still.
“We’re-- We’re here live, right here… where the fugitive was last seen,” a frantic, shaken voice of a woman explained from out of view. The quake ran through their position. “Oh, oh! Did you feel that? It’s… It’s still in the fog, we’re trying to find it right now… It’s close! We can actually feel it, th-this is not a joke! I-I know viewers at home might believe--”
Another channel. From a rooftop, a similar picture is presented, of fog and rain hovering between buildings. The word “breaking” in all capital letters loudly proclaimed the danger of the situation. “We know she’s out there,” an unseen man reported. “The weather has kicked up a… particularly heavy fog… but we have correspondents, calling in now, updating us… She’s moving through 12th and Barnes, if you’re here in the downtown area, you definitely feel it… We have word that police are-- Look! Look there!”
The camera zoomed in where puffs of fog swirled from the approach of something in the air. A silhouette of gray grew in the wall-like clouds, like a projection of something massive -- but it was no mere projection. The reporter fell silent, allowing only the sweeps of rain to be heard for a time. Then, the fog was pushed aside, as if opening a path for whatever tread through it. What was unveiled by the parting fog was then unclear, as the camera captured only a fraction of the whole figure, but what was seen was unmistakably a hand, a shape so strikingly familiar yet at such a huge scale, it first appeared to be an alien creature flung through the sky. Fingers as thick as oaks glided to where the camera was stationed, the sea foam green nails impaling into the corner of the roof. The camera immediately toppled over, its final scene being that of the giant hand tearing into the building near-effortlessly.
“There she is! Th-That was an extremely close sighting! Someone needs to get that damn camera back up-- replay that, replay what we saw!” The reporter was frantic, his words nearly bubbling over into a mad laughter. As demanded, the news chose to replay the event, just as some of the giant appeared in frame before wrecking the corner. The footage was played back slowly, and the reporter dissected every detail. The sharpness of the fingers, the length of the arm, and though barely in sight, the distinct shape of naked breasts that popped from the fog moments before the stream was disrupted.
Another channel. Three reporters sat in a semi-circular desk, engaged with an argument over what action the government should be expected to take. In the corner, another perspective from downtown played at all times, showcasing a packed street of jammed cars all trying to evacuate at once; people flood the gaps between the stalled vehicles, rushing away from the long road they were on. Nothing unusual was in sight, but the occasional recording was played back in the lull, showcasing a bleak scene where shadows overcame a street of people; another replay showed a distant giant, only visible as a silhouette, lurking over low risers and plucking things up from the road.
This channel was too loud, too distracted. Lorita sat on her couch leaned far forward with the remote gripped in one hand and a tablet in the other. Her patience was bleeding, her thirst to know more overpowering. What was being witnessed was a truly world-changing event, happening only a few miles into the city. “A giant woman,” she sighed, repeating the words she read on the news ticker with a shake of her head. “I knew this was going to be a hell of a year,” she giggled, flipping the channel to a national news station.
Lorita had become obsessed with the event as it progressed. She had cuddled in for the afternoon to enjoy the rainy weather, a relaxing way to spend another lonely day in her luxury home. A fifteen-minute drive from where the action took place, Lorita lived comfortably in a three storey house that was proudly lavished for an upper class culture. Her living room spoke well enough of the wealth she married into; surrounded by modern technologies and decorations stripped from the locales she had vacationed through, Lorita sat alone in the middle of an extra wide couch, staring up at a television that sprawled across an entire wall. The cloudy weather produced little natural light, casting her in a calm dimness. Though the situation seen was certainly tragic, it was also a thrilling adventure to watch unfold; Lorita was addicted to every development, safely watching everything play out from the comfort of her home. Evacuating was not very possible, not with the weather having flooded roads and closed down bridges -- staying put and not adding to the panic, Lorita figured, was the best approach that so happened to be the most convenient as well.
The onset of the predicament was perhaps the most exciting bit to her so far, and it was playing yet again on the television, just like when it had occurred live. Thus far, it was the most chronicled event of the giant monster attack -- that was what the news originally called it in a burst of confusion and fear. Several news stations happened to already be at the scene since earlier that morning, eager to report on the unveiling of a scientific breakthrough featured at Momentous Industries. The showcase never happened, not after the giant erupted from the roof after a concerning series of shockwaves rattled the ins and outs of the property. It was first just the peak of her head, a flood of black hair that was flung from the debris and draped in the destruction. Lorita remembered that initial plume of smoke and the scatter of bricks, the surprise and worry that plagued her -- only to discover a singular titan at its root, rising from the labs both in posture and in size. Even while slouching, the full height of the giant was stunning; feet as wide as multi-lane roads, a frame equal to that of neighboring buildings, and entirely nude, not a shred of her uniform having survived her expansion.
Nothing had ever felt more explosive and crude, nothing that Lorita had ever seen. A mixture of emotions plagued her gut as the giant tore from the building; part of her laughed, believing it to be an elaborate joke. But that possibility was dismissed early on, when the giant’s first step outside the wreckage was a sheer stomp onto a shipment truck. The trailer was utterly flattened with such force that its unloading door shot right off its hinges. The subsequent earthquake was felt in the footage itself, as astonished onlookers tripped and fell from the unforgiving impact. From nearly all angles that recorded the chaos, the operators behind the cameras turned to flee, only able to capture frantic glimpses of the “monster” behind them.
A shiver ran up Lorita’s spine, encouraging her to coil her bare legs up onto the couch cushion. She had nearly forgotten that she had been bathing just as the news came in. In a hurry to observe the commotion, Lorita had tossed on a pink bathrobe hugged to her waist by a fabric belt. It had been long enough since her bath that her blonde hair was nearly dried, threads slipping free from how it was pulled back behind her. She wondered how long this would all persist, and what the resolution would possibly be like.
Social media was abuzz regarding the giant’s progress through the city. Live updates were drip-fed from a relentless timeline, largely made of bewildered responses interjected between photos and videos. It was a trending topic that continued to entertain Lorita with different perspectives reacting to the gigantic woman. Images of the giant’s legs rising into a skirt of fog, close-up pictures of toes grinding cars into scrap, a video of patterned rumbling that approached and passed. Every update shook Lorita, but she had hoped to find a more intense watch -- an active stream of the situation promised to satisfy.
“Th-This is real! It’s real, i-it’s actually happening!” An energetic voice spasmed about what the video captured. Though unclear what exactly had transpired, the lot being filmed from was a wreckage of twisted metal and craters, the remnants of vehicles and infrastructure that had been trampled upon. The camera rapidly scanned some of the destruction, but the voice behind it trembled over something else. In the background, indistinct yelling could be heard from men -- followed by pops of gunfire. The perspective blurred as the operator behind it ducked, “Shit, fuck!”
Lorita shifted anxiously in her seat, crossing her legs into a more focused position. Her face glowed with the tablet under her, “What is it, what is it…?”
Amidst the operator’s heavy breathing, the view was turned to reveal what had just been out of focus. It initially registered to viewers as some kind of pale slope that rose up from the street, but it was in actuality the naked backside of a tremendous human. The giant was seated, her feet propped partially under an ass that a ditched taxi was cracking under. Black hair trailed midway down her hunched back; she was observing what was in front of her, something that warranted her amusement.
“Heh heh… hee…” A giggle rumbled the air, its depth heavy and huge despite the restrained tone. More gunshots were heard, indicating some sort of attack, but the giant was still and uncaring.
“She’s just laughing at us…” the streamer stammered under the intimidating chuckle. “Is this just a game to her? Just some fucking ga-- ohh shit!”
Risen above her left shoulder was a wailing police SUV, elevated by the casual grasp of the giant’s hand. She made a mockery of its heft and weight, twisting the vehicle under her smile. She snickered at it before shifting her gaze onto her right fist, which clutched a pair of officers haphazardly held between the coiled fingers. Stray limbs that happened to be free flailed about desperately, but their efforts to break free only tickled the giant.
“You shouldn’t have even tried,” the giant laughed. Her voice beckoned for all to listen to her, silencing even the haggard breathing of the streamer. “I would have just walked right over you… Nothing can stop me, you realize…?”
The officers cried out for help as the fingers tightened their grip over their bodies. As entertaining as this was for the giant, the moment passed and her patience ran out. Deciding this engagement to be over with, she nonchalantly tossed the SUV behind her. The two-ton vehicle glided through the air with great suspense before it crashed into a rooftop corner; the next second, it continued to fall towards the street, hitting the pavement with a loud boom emphasized by a geyser of smoke.
“Fuck this! Wh-What the hell was that?!” the streamer panicked. The camera bounced in all directions as the person stumbled away from the wreckage, but the view was focused on the giant as she twisted in his direction. “Oh g-god, no no,” the streamer pleaded, backing away further. His instinct did not mislead him, but it failed to save him; having allured her attention, the now-emptied hand reached for him. Fingers sprawled out in an inescapable net that quickly enveloped the streamer, but not his stream. Though the specifics are lost in a whirlwind of noise and motion, the phone used to broadcast seemingly slipped and fell to the ground, recording a blank gray sky and the dwindling scream of someone being carried away. The ground trembled, and what was last seen was a massive foot swinging right above the camera.
Lorita was still for seconds after the broadcast’s flat end. The shock of what had unfolded on her tablet had alarmed her, but what truly had her stiffened was the few glimpses of the giant’s face that this particular streamer managed to catch. It was rough to form a picture of the giant due to the fog, but there were several angles where some of the face could be identified. What Lorita noticed specifically was a pair of black moles; one under the corner of her lip, another further down her neck. Her eyes glanced at these features, as minute as they were, out of some instinct she could not recognize, as if her eyes had been drawn there before.
It was familiar, all of what she had seen of this giant, but not especially so either. Who was this woman? She stuttered to admit it aloud, “I think… that I know her…” She swallowed on the thought. “I do. But… where…?” She chuckled, not having a clue where she could have stumbled into a giant before. Was it from a job she had? A relative of her husband’s? The question was burning her up inside.
The buzz of a helicopter could be heard from overhead. Lorita looked up through the skylight and realized it was more than just a single helicopter. Several were being mobilized, cutting above the suburbs and towards the city. Their military paint spelled chaos in the near future, which tickled Lorita’s excitement. She sat up with so much energy to spare, flipping her attention from her tablet to the television. Soon enough, she would be seeing those same helicopters on live television.
The question, however, had gone unanswered. How did she know this person that had grown giant? She felt safer assuming this monster was someone she never knew, but her eyes went wide upon looking at the next news station she had brought up. Perhaps it was an incorrect claim that the news misinterpreted -- another comfortable assumption -- but this bit of information struck Lorita with another sense of familiarity. On screen, it was suggested that the giant terror in question was one of the scientists from Momentous Industries, an engineer identified by the last name on the name badge she grew out of: Collins.
It was a name she remembered from high school, perhaps even earlier than that. A distant memory, too far to clearly recall. The name rang in her head and continued to with every mention of it. From that moment, the news and social media alike referred to the giant as Collins, or the Collins in some cases, the name rapidly reaching popularity and becoming a trending topic all on its own. Yet the name and face still was not enough for Lorita to understand who this was -- she had to find out more.
As Lorita went hunting for a yearbook, the Collins on television proceeded with the hunt that she was on. A major news station prepared several crews in order to capture multiple angles of her striding by. The primary reporter was calm and collected, bringing attention to how fast Collins was moving and the direction she was headed. This comment was made as the giant was seen passing between lowrise buildings as a silhouette in the fog, her legs and arms snaking around the structures in order to squeeze past their tight turns.
From another angle that the broadcast snapped to, the approach of feet collapsing from the canopy of fog was observed, each step tearing into the road and flattening cars that had been left behind. Powerlines stretched and broke as they hooked around her ankles, and caught between her toes was a mangled street light being carried step after step. As each footfall neared closer, the perspective vibrated more radically, until one last crash was enough to make the camera shiver out of position and crumple to the road.
Lorita was back on the couch with a yearbook in her grasp. It had not been touched in years, probably not since she received it some twelve years ago. So much had happened in that time, but memories resurfaced after only a few flipped pages. This was no time to be nostalgic; on screen, a flash of fire suddenly lit up the foggy air, the result of a gas tank breaking underneath one of Collins’s feet. Lorita dug back into the yearbook, hurriedly looking up the last name Collins from the array of old photographs.
But the action being broadcast was too thrilling to overlook. In the midst of her search, Lorita watched as the Collins on screen was stopped. A row of buildings blocked her path forward and helicopters peppered her with gunfire from just out of reach. Despite these obstacles, the naked woman was hardly phased, even giggling to the resistance. The heavy weapons seemed to do little more than itch at Collins’s skin, and with just a casual swipe of her arm, one attacking helicopter was disoriented and fumbled in the sky. It spiralled in a frenzy towards the ground, the giant watching pleasantly as it dove into an alley with an unseen boom.
Two more helicopters continued to attack, but Collins would not be slowed for long, deciding to break her way forward by kicking into an unfortunate building. Her sole broke through the walls and windows with ease, enough force that most floors immediately collapsed into one another. Her hands then pried into the split she had created, and with a firm push to either side, she widened the gap to allow her passage. Within the building was a mess of supplies and people scrambling to find safe corners, but most were washed down into the tear where the massive body was being wedged. Stragglers at the edges of the split-open floor were ended by a wall of flesh intruding upon their workspace, the gigantic body exiting the other side with the bloodstains hidden by splotches of dusty debris.
Somehow, the carnage and destruction did not frighten Lorita. She was obsessed with this answer that hung at the tips of her fingers, and the chaotic scene of Collins clashing with citizens was seen as just an entertaining distraction. Pointed into the yearbook, Lorita continued where she left off, passing by her own picture. Her smile back then was cheerful and posed; she was a rich kid and popular on top of that, always free to pick and choose whatever she wanted in life. That privilege continued beyond such simple days, directly taking her to the house she enjoyed so often alone.
The search continued, but for only two more pages. The face that she had recalled was there in the yearbook, and the name beneath it confirmed what she had found. Her gut feeling had been correct, but how she was meant to feel about that, she was not sure. In any case, her sleuthing had revealed who this giant was, or at least used to be; Cassidy Collins, a bookworm student that was most recognized for her aptitude towards science and math. Quiet and reserved, Cassidy was a simple young woman that blended into the crowded hallways, lurking to herself and never seen with any friends outside of class.
Lorita made sense of it all in her head, but she was still discontent. “There’s more,” she told herself, “I just can’t remember… Ugh…” She glanced at the television where a frame of Collins’s rampage was frozen, the pause allowing her to compare the two beauty marks. As far as she could tell, they seemed to line up, but Lorita still suspected that she knew more of Cassidy than just what she looked like.
A notification rang from Lorita’s phone. She thought to ignore it, but it rang again, alerting her of messages. With the yearbook still spread on her lap, she reached forward and retrieved her phone, just as another message was received. She expected some comments of concern she could quickly dismiss, but the all-caps message was more frantic than just an idle check-up. The first text was a question, asking if Lorita still lived in Brooksmeet, the gated community in the hills that she was home to. The subsequent messages spoke of the naked giant marching in that direction, begging to know that Lorita had evacuated or was somewhere safe.
At first, these warnings were disbelieved. Lorita initially wanted to laugh the concern off from her friend, but before she could type up a witty response, a message arrived from someone else -- a neighbor. It came without a comment, a photo taken from the golf course at the foot of Brooksmeet. In its center was a naked behemoth, her breasts unabashedly out to be seen, her bush of pubic hair free to be tossed by the wind. She was seen in mid-step, her sole crushing down on the stone gate into the neighborhood. It was of course Cassidy, but notable most of all was her smile, nearly cropped from view but eerily apparent in this static frame.
Whatever reply Lorita had been expecting to send fumbled from her thumbs the moment she heard a wave of some noise seep into her home. She shuddered, hoping it was just the rainfall that had since ceased, or the first clap of thunder. Items shelved around her den jittered where they were placed. A car siren could be heard wailing next, somewhere off in the neighborhood. What she feared was no doubt the reality of her situation, yet she would not accept it as true until she saw for herself. Wary of finding out, she timidly approached one of the large windows at the front of her house, peering between the lavish curtains in search of what could cause the ground to quake.
The woman was out there, a beast lurking in the fog with long limbs that stretched over the hills and roads. A leg rose, then struck the ground with a shattering crash into a neighbor’s yard. Lorita flinched, but it was not until the second step that she cowered away completely from the curtains. Her heart drummed nervously under her robe, which she clutched tighter to her chest in worry. She paced around the room -- another rumble earned a squeak of fright.
Lorita closed her eyes as another quake left her leaning against a bar stool. Another trill of familiarity ran up her spine. Being approached like this brought back the most distinct memory yet, and quite realistically the very reason she feared that Cassidy was coming straight for her. She hoped it was an overactive ego that had her think herself central to this giant’s rampage, but once upon a time, she was considered the most important part of this woman’s life...