Hey, Lucky here! Nice to meet ya! Thank you for visiting, reading and YOU BETTER KEEP PROPSERING! THE WONDERFUL PFP IS DONE BY https://www.tumblr.com/mysticcomfort (Age: 23) THIS BLOG WILL NOT EVER CONTAIN ANYTHING NSFW. https://ko-fi.com/luckyshot/commissions
Hey hey, Lucky here, how's it going? If you come around these parts looking for stories, that's what I do! This blog will contain SFW vore stories and some other goofy jazz! IF that makes you uncomfortable or it's not your style, I have a normal blog TheCoolerLucky that doesn't. I'll be posted my edited version of Widfali there, which removes a lot of the excess vore, fixes descriptions, dialogue, and more.
Wanna see if you can stomach a story, check it! ↓↓↓
What I'd do for a Livable Income || Read On A03 - A Soap Opera-esque fantasy fiction about a girl working at a pizzeria run by monsters. (New Chapter at least 2 times a week). Better (less vore) edits and more details here.
I Got Roped Into Being A Hero - A superhero fiction, following those around one of the worlds strongest and most mysterious hero. (Once a Month!)
What I'd Do As A Paranormal Investigator - A contemporary fantasy fiction Widfali Au where Lynette get's the help of a 'fae' to solve a case of murders and prove Wicks's innocence. (T.B.A)
"Wild Escape" - A giant demon hunting "cowboy" and his Yokai shiting stunted are on the run from outlaws. (On Hiatus!)
Are you interested in sampling possessive angst? ↓↓↓
Yandere Vore Master Post-It (Some serious themes inside).
Are you looking for some short stories that aren't plot stricken, but still meaty enough for a fine meal? ↓↓↓
Short Story Snips (I'll be tossin' them all here).
Do you want something to bring out inspiration of your own, why don't you try feasting upon these prompts. ↓↓↓
Prompt-It Notes (Get em' while they're hot!)
Want a "dessert" tailed to ya? ↓↓↓
Ko-Fi Commissions! (Want me to draw something for you?)
(Also my asks are always open, so go ahead and shoot me one!)
And overall, if my stuff isn't your thing, I still wish you a wonderful day! :D And keep looking around the community there are plenty of awesome artist and writers here!
Undisclosed Character. NO, unfortunately not part of What I'd Do For A Livable Income, same universe, but not the same story.
Apologies for being absent, I have been extremely busy lately. Dramatic life stuff, so much so that I've been discouraged from writing/drawing as much as I want to. I've finally decided I should push past it and so far, despite being sick, I've been working for the past week or so on a project. I plan to release the first part by next month. It's for two things What I'd Do For A Livable Income, and my other series that I need to start getting out more, The Jenkai. Details to be disclosed more later.
Regardless, I hope everyone has been having a great time since I've been gone. If not, please keep going and putting yourselves out there even if your head, or someone in your life holding you back is telling you not too. Thank you to those who have consistently been believing in me and giving me hope for a better tomorrow.
AND AS ALWAYS, HAVE AN AMAZING REST OF YOUR DAY, OR BETTER YET, WEEK! YOU STILL GOT TIME, MAKE IT GREAT FOR YOU! NON-NEGOTIABLE!
I know it's really sketchy but it's something I am working on and taking me so long to finish. IS IT important story wise, no, is it goofy, YES. I have been feeling down lately with the new job and other in life stuff. Though, I am still here trying to figure out my next steps. I appreciate the support given to me as always, AND HAVE A GOOD DAY, non-negotiable!
It was a draft I didn't properly edit or finish and I forgot I put it in queue last week. 💀 It's for an AU I'm working on making into a visual novel game. Don't worry about it.
Just been busy, wrecked, working 12-15 hour shifts and trying to find another job. I am going to try posting Jazz soon. Mostly throwing stuff down at @thecoolerlucky lately. I WANT TO FINISH WIDFALI HERE and do re-edits there at the same time, but- life is kicking my butt. Anyway, DUDE'S HOPE YOU ALL ARE DOING WELL, HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR DAY, NONNEGOTIABLE AS ALWAYS, DUH.
I love this and I am sorry I keep sharing it around. It's my favorite part so far. xD STILL got a lot of work but hopefully episode one will be out around Saturday. Have a great day, NONNEGOTIABLE AS ALWAYS.
What have you been up to Lucky? WELL, currently I am working on the comic contest Webtoon is having for a series I had that takes place in the same universe as 'What I'd Do For A Livable Income'.
It follows a playful and pride oriented third class C.P.P.A. agent Vallen, playing "baby-sitter" to a serious and level-headed Jenkai named Avila. It's a "buddy-cop" type of episodic story with fantasy action hijinks, tons of monsters, idiocy, and tidbits of drama.
Disclaimer: These are rough drafts for them, in the comic they won't be exactly like this, probably better.
I'll be posting small updates with it soon, thank you again for following. And if it does well, comic wise. I will definitely be looking to make 'what I'd do for a livable income' into a comic one day too. xD
ANYWAY, AS ALWAYS HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY (Nonnegotiable)!
Contents: Drake trying to figure out how to ask Lynette a question. (Much later in Widfali).
Wordcount: 1,300+
“What I wouldn’t give to be able to kick a puppy.”
_______________________________________
Drake craved more of her blood after his first taste in months. It somehow increased in potency from the last time he indulged, and now he was stuck with her debating his options.
Lynette convinced him to accompany her to Bitty Frogs ice cream shop in the city outskirts—an hour before it closed. It was a 20-minute drive to get to the area, and a small ten-minute walk to the shop from where they parked.
It was close to eight in late February, so the other shops along the way illuminated their path on the sidewalk. The cold rarely bothered him, so he threw on a thin black sweater and torn jeans. Lynette, on the other hand, bundled up. Layered in at least five different sweaters, scarf, hat, gloves, and jeans under her skirt, with winter boots. Her wardrobe choices no longer shocked him. He accepted them and only wondered how she could move her upper torso wearing her current picks.
You’d think seeing barely any skin would make me less compelled to bite her. Exposed flesh made him thirsty on occasions, but what drove him better than anything was a person’s heart. The way it thumped reminded him of the fresh, warm, crimson ichor inside, waiting to be released by his fangs.
He hissed under his breath like a machine letting out steam. Why is it coming to this? He disliked asking someone for blood. It either led to an awkward exchange or a flat-out rejection. She won’t say no. Drake knew his kind-hearted, foolishly trusting “prey” too well. It’ll be embarrassing. He imagined himself saying, “may I have some of your blood, please,” and he cringed so hard, he wished there was an open grave to throw his body in.
I could do it without asking. That’s how he hunted humans. All Drake had to do was make a barrier, grab her head, wrap an arm around her waist to press her into him and lift her up, then drink to his stomach’s content.
But no, you have to be such a sweet friiiiieeeend. He complained in his head like he wasn’t grateful for her friendship. He was and wouldn’t attack her unless she deserved it by pissing him off.
Drake glanced at the shrimpy girl striding beside him. Why can’t you be a rude asshole? That’s so much better than being an innocent, lovable puppy. He was too ‘weak-willed’ to hurt one of those.
While he was in his head, she pointed out the ice cream shop across the street, half a block away. “We’re so close!”
Drake’s natural habit of respond to someone he wasn’t paying attention to caused his thought to slip through his lips, “What I wouldn’t give to be able to kick a puppy.”
Her cheerful smile fell. “What?” She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and he did the same, realizing what he said. She whimpered out, “Drake, why would you want to hit a puppy?”
He averted his eyes and checked their surroundings. Not only did they interrupt the flow of people walking behind them, but he also heard the judgmental muttering and heartbeats, too. He expelled an embarrassed hiccup of a chuckle. “Ha, you’re so-." His lip twitched, shooting her a look, “funny!” He quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. He brought her to the crosswalk and turned the corner. They weren’t going across the street yet. A short distance from the pedestrian traffic, near a corner boutique’s brick wall, he released her.
He stood in front of her, waited a second more for any prying eyes or ears to pass, and consoled her sad face. Although, in his fluster, he matched her previous exclamation volume. “I didn’t mean literal puppies!” Her heartbeat tensed. I’m yelling at her. He bowed his head in apology and lowered his voice to talk in his normal, non-fang exposing softness. “It was a metaphorical puppy as a reference for you.”
His poor choice of words slapped him in the face on their way out. He threw his hand up to silence her before she could say something like, “you want to kick me?”
“No, I don’t want to kick you. I was trying to think of a way to ask you something and not embarrass myself.” Too late for that. He moved his hand down and he considered the thought of putting it against her face and pinning her against the bricks. He dismissed it by tucking his clawed fingertips into his pockets to avoid temptation.
Lynette’s sweet and caring melody responded almost instantly. “Did you want to drink my blood?”
He flinched. He questioned whether he should feel insulted by her rapid deduction of his predictability or frustrated by her saying it blunt. Can’t you act a little scared?
Drake's eyes flicked down as she moved her gloved hand to tug at her purple scarf. He realized she was trying to expose her neck.
He fought her gesture and fixed her scarf, “Wayland.” He said her last name sharply and bared his fangs, “don’t offer yourself to me so easily.”
The redhead dropped her small mits and took a step back, so he released her scarf. She pressed into the wall behind her and looked longingly across the street at the ice cream shop. She adjusted her feet, and her green-eyed gaze helped her monotone reply. “Fine, no, you can’t have my blood.”
Drake’s shoulders dropped, offended. “You can’t take it back.”
Her attempt at being stern receded. “Huh?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Drake’s did too from his backward logic. “You told me to reject you.”
“I did.” He pressed his own palm against his face and spoke, his hand muffling his words. “I meant you shouldn’t accept my request so fast.”
The slacked eyelids and pouty grumbles showed how much she was tired of their idiocy. Don’t worry Lynette, I hate myself too. She pushed her mitten to his chest first, then hers. “We’re friends Drake.” She put her mittens on her hips to show confidence. “I trust you, and that’s a good enough reason to say yes.”
And that’s where your idiocy lies. He groaned and copied her stance. “I’m being selfish here. I only want it because it tastes better than last time.” If I could have it every day, I would.
She leaned in, fearless. However, her short height took away all seriousness because she had to crane her head up to look at him. “I’m being selfish, too. I dragged you away from your anime binge because Wicks canceled.”
He dropped his arms. “True. I was an episode away from the season finale.” Hmm. I could abuse that and guilt her into giving me blood all the time if she asks me to do something and I’m “busy”. He shook his head. I’m not doing that. “How much I’d love to say, ‘good point’ and bite you. The little Lynette I have as a conscience in my head keeps telling me no.”
Her eyes popped with vibrancy and life, she put her arms at her chest happily, “a little me? Awww.”
Drake gave a sardonic smirk and prepared his tease, “yeah, your disgusting positivity is contagious.” He acted it up by making a sour face and shook out his arms like they had something wet all over them.
She held her laugh, stuck out her tongue and walked around him, “aw shucks. That’s unfortunate. Having positivity means no blood privileges.”
Drake straightened up and followed her to the crosswalk. “Hey, I refute that.”
“Sorry, court decision.”
Drake hissed jokingly, “Not if I attack the judge.”
She gasped as they crossed the street. “You’d assault the judge?”
“If they have good blood.”
She whispered to keep the people they passed from hearing her. “Doesn’t every person have good blood to you?”
Drake wadded through all the tasty heartbeats, passing him to hear what she said. He sighed, “okay, if they have blood to die for, I’d be willing to attack a judge.”
She snickered, “don’t you usually fight people for less?”
Drake tipped toward her and playfully jabbed her shoulder with his elbow. “Shut up.”
He opened the door to the ice cream shop for her, and she spoke under her breath. “After we get ice cream, you can have some blood on the condition that you explain why you wanted it to whoever asks me.”
Drake slumped on the door and watched her walk in. She’s not kidding this time. He trudged forward. All along there was a secret third problem. I didn’t have to worry about her making it awkward or rejecting me. No, I have to deal about the others ridiculing me into oblivion. He stepped behind her, the man at the counter greeting him like he did her. He reflected a close smile and looked down at the colorful wide variety of flavors. Is ice cream always this bright?
Beside him, Lynette asked for his opinion. She must have forgot I can't taste any of these without human energy or blood on them. He smiled and looked over the names of the flavors, nah, she wants me to feel included.
He checked the names, rocky road, minty mountain, coffee swirl, and said what he assumed was the most bitter option. That's what her brother would do. She requested what she wanted, a triple scope sundae, and Drake pondered the concern that was her brother. Is her blood worth risking that psycho finding out I drank it without an actual reason?
Drake weighed his options for a moment and shrugged. “Here's hoping one of them know a good funeral director.”
Lynette pinched at his arm while grabbing his sleeve. “Drake!!"
...
Wondering where these bozos are from? Check them out in my story about a human working in a pizzeria run by monster called, "What I'd Do For A Livable Income"
In which Danny leads the mob to the home of a giant.
Contains: 3.4k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!
For a man as loathsome and disgusting as Cyrus—at least, in Danny's eyes—it was surprisingly easy for him to get people on his side.
Cyrus left Nathan, Danny, and all the preparations for the trip ahead in the hands of the cronies he’d brought with him. Meanwhile, he left with only a couple of them and came back less than an hour later with what seemed to be most of the town's capable men and a few audacious women besides, armed with anything and everything from torches to axes to fireplace pokers, all shouting along behind Cyrus. There had to have been at least a hundred—maybe more.
“We can't have a monster threaten the village!”
“No one is safe!”
“Not until it's dead!”
Cyrus looked so incredibly pleased with himself as he walked on ahead of the crowd towards Danny, who had her hands tied behind her back as she sat in front of Max on the horse that she'd borrowed from Christopher. Maria whinnied nervously as the man approached, kicking up her hooves—though it seemed that she had submitted to complacency since Danny had gotten astride her.
“It's such a comfort to know that I have the support of our village in this endeavor,” he sneered. “Who knew years of public relations would pay off like this?”
Danny glared back at him. “We had a donkey that was just as loud as you, and still, somehow, less of an ass.”
Cyrus shook his head as if he truly felt pity for Danny. “Such a shame what that monster did to your mind. Making you resent your savior like this.”
It wasn't even a good act. Cyrus didn't believe a word he said about mind control.
“What's this really about, Cyrus?” Danny snapped. “I know you. You're not some fucking hero. What exactly do you hope to gain from killing Christopher?”
He couldn't, right? There's no way. Sam can stop them. Christopher could literally crush Cyrus under his foot. He doesn't stand a chance.
Cyrus's smile twitched, and his beady eyes darkened. “A world with one less man-eating giant in it.”
Danny wanted to scream. “Even if there was a giant, you wouldn’t stand a fucking chance. How the hell did you convince these people they could take down a giant?”
Cyrus leaned in close enough for her to smell the putrid scent of cigars on his breath. “I didn’t,” he sneered. “Turns out the threat of a magical, mind-controlling monster is enough to rile everyone up.”
He only laughed loudly as he turned to walk away. Danny screamed in frustration, which prompted Max to throw one of his elbows into her side. “Shut up, bitch. You'd better cooperate, unless you want your friend to die in the cold.”
There were times that anger could be useful, or at least, felt useful. When she'd had nothing to do but pace around a gilded cage, alone, anger had felt good. Even if it had been pointless, it made her feel like she was still fighting back, like she was doing something instead of just rolling over and giving up.
Her anger wouldn't do anything here—not when Nathan's life was on the line. Any risk she took would be a risk for Nathan, and any detour or distraction would only prolong the bitter cold he'd have to endure. And she had no doubt at all that Cyrus wouldn't hesitate to hurt him further, if she didn't comply.
It tasted like bile to swallow her anger now, but she did. She took a deep breath, stared straight ahead, and imagined herself strangling Max. She played over and over in her head the many different ways she could hurt him, and Cyrus, and every one of the people he'd brought with him.
“Lead the way, Danny,” came Cyrus's arrogant voice from behind her. She tried to look to the side to see if she could get a glimpse of Nathan, but Max gave her a subtle, but still painful shove.
“Get moving,” he hissed.
First, I'll put my hands around his neck and squeeze until his face turns blue. She gestured towards the woods with her head, since her hands were still tied. “That way. Down the path.” Then I'll punch him right in the gut, right where it hurts. After that—
* * * * * * * * * *
Danny hoped that they would get as lost as Christopher seemed to think they would without the mirror—which she had managed to keep with her during all the commotion, though she kept it hidden beneath her dress. Maybe there was some sort of illusion Sam could pull off to hide the mansion from view, or turn them all around in the woods.
She had little choice but to lead Cyrus and his now much larger mob of people down the path she'd taken to Christopher's residence. To her dismay, the huge mansion came into view, with its dark spires rising up into the gray sky above.
“This is the place,” she snarled as they approached the iron gate that led to the mansion’s grounds.
Max pulled the reins on Maria to stop her in her tracks, and the rest of the mob behind followed suit. Cyrus hopped off his own horse and sauntered up to the huge, wrought iron gate—shut and locked tight, with no lock or handle in sight. It was the only way in—the stone walls would have been too high to climb over easily.
She seemed to be the only one to notice one of the iron bars bending just slightly at the bottom, before it swiped under the feet of one of the people standing too close to the gate.
“W-what the fuck?” The man’s head snapped side to side, trying to find the source of whatever had tripped him up. “What the fuck was that?”
“Get the gate open!” Cyrus shouted, ignoring the man’s distress. After a few men threw their shoulders into the metal to try and make the gate give way, a group eventually used a large log nearby as a battering ram to try and force it open. A thunderous CLANG echoed with each attempt.
Max dismounted and yanked Danny off the horse after. She fought against his hold on her, trying to at least find Nathan in all the commotion, and though she couldn’t see him, she heard him coughing further back. Fuck. He needs to get indoors.
The screeching, horrible sound of metal giving way accompanied the sound of one of the attempts to break down the gate, and Danny saw the gates regretfully swing open, enough for the mob to begin pouring through. She was herded along with them all, pushed unceremoniously by Max, who still held her bound hands behind her.
“LOOK OUT!”
Something large whizzed over her head, and as it clattered against the walkway, she realized it was a paving stone that had been lobbed through the air. She tried to crane her neck to see ahead, and just as she did another paving stone came loose from the walkway, seemingly of its own accord, and aimed squarely at Cyrus’s head.
The bastard dodged, but the brick managed to catch someone else on the side of their head before it dropped to the ground. A shocked clamor rose up from the people, with shouts of an invisible enemy beginning to emerge from the crowd.
“Is the place haunted?” one man cried out.
A dark, familiar chuckle echoed from all around, as though the voice passed through every stone in the pavement beneath. “You bet your fucking ass it is.”
More paving stones removed themselves from the ground, one at a time, flying towards the crowd with a vengeance. Some were able to find their mark, sending the odd person falling to their knees in pain. Others were able to be swatted away by the clubs and axes. The whole commotion was enough to send at least a few people running back towards the gates.
“LeEeAaVE~” Sam wailed, as menacing as they could. Danny’s grin quirked up a bit.
“Don’t be fooled by these tricks!” Cyrus bellows above the crowd. “Keep moving forward!”
And so the crowd did, for the most part undeterred by the seemingly haunted grounds of the mansion as they pressed forward in a huge and increasingly furious wave towards the mansion’s front door.
Before they could storm the door, Cyrus held up his hand. “Stay back!” The mob halted as Cyrus began to march up to the front door alone, though he made another gesture behind him. “Max. Bring her here.”
Max shoved Danny forward through the crowd. The sea of people gave her mostly distrustful and disgusted glances as she passed, but she didn’t even bother acknowledging them. Max pushed her forward until she stood at the base of the stairs that led up to the elaborate front door.
As Cyrus stepped up to it, ready to knock, the door swung violently open and nearly hit Cyrus square on.
And there, standing calmly on the threshold, was Christopher—looking by all accounts nothing more than a normal man.
Almost. Danny’s eyes couldn’t help but search for the dark horns atop his head, for any trace of his appearance that could give his true nature away. His horns were dark and short enough now to almost be unnoticeable, hidden by his hair. He looked nothing but refined and distinguished—whatever sadness had lingered about him before, Danny saw no traces of it now. It was effectively covered up—if she had seen it correctly to begin with.
The giant’s eyes immediately went over Cyrus’s shoulder to Danny, but he looked away just as quickly, smoothing out his expression.
“I’m afraid I’m not entertaining guests today,” he said curtly, as though he had simply misjudged the nature of the raucous crowd of angry villagers standing on his front lawn. “I’ll have to ask you all to leave.”
There was a chorus of hushed whispers and gasps traveling through the crowd now. Danny thought she could hear fragments of what several of them were saying.
“That’s him.”
“I’ve…I’ve been here before. He—”
“Oh my god, he ate—”
“It’s the giant. How—”
A cold chill seeped into her bones as she realized that the mere sight of the giant was enough to bring back memory to those he’d taken it away from. How…how many of these people had Christopher…?
“You and I have some unfinished business, Penn,” Cyrus snarled, quiet enough for Danny and Max to be the only ones to hear.
“I’m sorry…who are you?” Christopher asked blithely, his voice carrying an almost genuine ignorance. There was enough condescension, though, to make Cyrus growl back at him through gritted teeth.
Danny snorted. Max retaliated by driving his foot into the back of her heel, prompting her to wince sharply.
She noticed that Christopher’s lips tightened slightly, but the giant did not otherwise react.
“You know damn well who I am,” Cyrus hissed in Christopher’s face. “You got your nose into business you shouldn’t have.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Christopher replied. His eyes kept darting back to Danny, his lips still set in a fine line. “Though I would ask that you refrain from hurting my friend there. She doesn’t seem very comfortable.”
Cyrus chuckled darkly. “Friend?” He turned slightly so that his voice now projected out toward the crowd. “The way I hear it, you kidnapped this innocent young woman. Messed with her mind to the point she’d defend you, even now.”
Danny strained against Max’s grip on her. “He’s lying!” she cried out, trying desperately to squirm from his hold. “I wasn’t kidnapped!”
Max growled in frustration as he tried to keep her restrained.
“Christopher’s not a monster!” Danny yelled. “Can’t you idiots see?”
Cyrus whipped around and gave Danny a poisonous glare. “Max, shut her up.”
Max sent a sharp elbow into Danny’s back, causing her to stumble on her feet. A sharp cry was forced out from her lungs. “You forget we have your OTHER friend here, too?”
Her eyes on the ground, Danny almost didn’t see it—the instinctive step Christopher took forward, with his hand slightly outstretched, before he met with the invisible barrier of the doorframe, and hastily pulled back.
A sense of dread fell over her. Did Cyrus notice? The giant attempted to cover up his mistake and stand straight up again, as if nothing had happened.
“I’m not sure I appreciate the way you’re treating my friend, Mr. Livingston.” Each word Christopher spoke was as sharp as ice. “You seem to have a problem with me, not her. Let her go.”
“Oh?” Cyrus took a bold step closer to the doorframe, smirking maliciously. “And just what are you going to do about it, pretty boy? You’re not going to rush to her aid?”
Christopher’s lip twitched, the beginning of a snarl that he repressed. “Perhaps you’d like to come inside to discuss this business you have with me?” Each word was pointed and clipped, propriety being stretched as thin as possible.
Cyrus looked unfazed, studying Christopher for just a moment before his smile widened. He scratched his chin idly. “Max. Come here. Have someone else keep a hold on her.”
Danny thought that she could hear Max’s heartbeat increase tenfold. “O-of course.” The man ushered another of Cyrus’s brutish thugs forward, who grabbed Danny’s arms and held her back with much more force than the weasely man had been able to.
Max crept forward timidly until he stood by Cyrus’s side. Danny could see the way the man trembled like a leaf before Christopher, who only glared down at the man coldly.
“Do you remember him?” Cyrus asked scornfully as he grasped Max’s arm, something like amusement dancing in his expression.
“No.” Christopher was, by Danny’s estimations, a remarkable liar. If she didn’t know better, she thought he could almost be telling the truth.
Cyrus sneered unkindly. “Well, he certainly remembers you.”
Without a warning, Cyrus shoved Max over the doorframe towards Christopher—in such a way that it should have meant that Max would collide squarely with Christopher, and yet, from everyone’s perspective, it appeared that Max had suddenly disappeared into thin air.
Cyrus pulled his own hand back from the doorframe immediately, Max no longer held within it.
The cries from the crowd became louder all of a sudden as they witnessed a man vanish before their eyes.
Christopher snarled as he glanced down, like he’d noticed a bug near his feet, and bent down swiftly before returning to his standing height, something tiny held between his fingers. Only those standing close to the door—Cyrus, Danny, and the man who held her back—would be able to see that it was Max Christopher held between his fingers.
“If you’d like him returned safely,” Christopher hissed, “I suggest you let my friend Danny go, and take your business elsewhere.”
Cyrus eyed Christopher up for a moment, his eyes landing on Max only briefly. “Well, why don’t you come and get her then, giant?” he taunted, his voice just barely above a whisper as he grinned devilishly.
The fury in Christopher’s eyes was unmistakable—and his silence was damning.
“Do what you like with him,” Cyrus laughed. “I’ve learned all I need to.”
It sounded like Max yelled something undistinguishable to Danny’s ears—just the high-pitched squeak of a mouse—before Cyrus turned to address the crowd gathered before him.
“Don’t be fooled by these illusions!” he shouted. “While he may seem like a normal man, he is little more than a monster in disguise.”
“Yeah!” shouted a man from the crowd. “He’s a giant! He ate me—I remember!”
“He tricked me into coming here!” another voice cried out. “And then he made me forget!”
“What’s going to stop him from doing it again!”
Cyrus had done little more than effectively light the match beneath the coals of the mob’s anger, standing and watching as it quickly caught fire and took off before him. The cries continued on and on—people shouting about how they’d been tricked, put in a cage, eaten. There was hardly any deceit necessary from Cyrus anymore—the people he’d gathered were assured now of the nature of the beast they needed to slay.
And Christopher—Christopher did nothing but watch. Desperately, Danny tried to meet his eyes—but the giant could only stare out in horror at the sea of people, hearing his own victims shouting out his crimes. Something broke, then, in his countenance. His eyes swam with a desperate, hopeless sort of look to them, like a frightened animal caught in a trap.
Despite everything—despite the fact that her voice ought to have been among the people gathered here, and under different circumstances it very well might have—sympathy pierced her heart painfully. He has to face all these people that he ate. They’re all calling him a monster, but they don’t know—
Eventually, Cyrus seemed satisfied with the level of vitriol that had been stirred up in the crowd. He gestured behind him with an arrogant flick of his wrist. “Luckily, the monster is imprisoned in his own home. He can’t step over the threshold.”
A rush of whispers, confused and shocked, flew through the crowd. Danny tried not to let anything show on her face to suggest that what Cyrus said was true, but panic clenched her heart.
“Even if that was true, that means he wouldn’t be able to get out. He’s not a danger to anyone. Why are you all—”
She received a harsher jab in the back, enough to knock the wind out of her.
“How many of you have seen this monster’s true colors?” Cyrus’s voice boomed out, to a chorus of thundering assent. “How many has he already fooled? Bewitched? Consumed?”
Cyrus turned around slowly to face Christopher again. “And by all means, if I do not speak the truth…” He waved his hand before him, as if to invite Christopher outside with him. “Feel free to prove me wrong, Penn. Join us out here, and prove your innocence. Save your friend.”
Danny looked to Christopher, hoping for a miracle. Please, she begged silently. Say something. Do something. Please.
Christopher didn’t move. He didn’t speak. His eyes hardly met with Cyrus at all, or any of the people standing in his front yard.
The longer he remained still, the louder the cries of anger from the crowd became. It wasn’t hard to tell that they were all now eager for blood. Their shouts and cries became a distant buzz in Danny’s ears—all she could focus on was Christopher.
What could she do?
What could he do?
Finally, the giant’s lips parted, and Danny had to strain to hear the words he muttered.
“Please, you can do whatever you want with me…” Christopher’s dark eyes finally went back to Danny, flowing over with emotion. “But don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with this. Let her go.”
“I don’t believe you’re in a position to bargain, monster,” Cyrus sneered.
He faced the crowd once more—and the tension in the air felt on the verge of snapping then. “Against all of us, even a giant is powerless!” His voice boomed triumphantly, as though he meant to lead an army into battle. “It’s time to put an end to this madness once and for all!”
A horrible, stomach-churning cheer erupted from the mob, and before Cyrus could even direct them to, they rushed forward towards the house in a mad dash to cross the threshold. Cyrus’s eyes widened as he realized they would not stop for him, and in the madness of it all he was pushed into the house by the swarm of people screaming bloody murder, wielding all the weapons they’d soon find to be rather inadequate.
Danny, too, couldn’t resist as she was rather forcefully shoved along in the chaos, until she was faced with the only somewhat familiar feeling of vertigo as her feet stepped over the doorframe and onto the giant tile of the inside of Christopher’s mansion.
The giant himself only took a single step backward, caught in the horror and confusion of the moment as hundreds of people tried to force their way into his home, and became nothing but a small, confused assortment of tiny creatures scurrying at his feet.
The change in perspective had certainly thrown more than a couple of people for a loop, and Danny could see that many were trying to force their way back, to get to the safety of the outside again, but the crowd just kept pushing forward as the mob streamed into the mansion.
There was a loud THUD as the doors forced themselves shut, keeping what remained of the mob out—and locking the ones here in.
“There! Fuck,” Danny heard Sam exclaim from the doors themselves, causing several people to jump and flip around, as though they expected another giant to appear.
A voice cried out then, one of the many people who’d been unfortunate and delusional enough to force themselves in, who now saw that their enemy was not one that could be taken down by a simple fireplace poker, who was slightly more intimidating in stature than Cyrus’s rallying cries had suggested they were in any way capable of defeating.
“RUN!”
* * * * * * * * * *
What kind of danger could a bunch of humans really pose to a giant?
It's certainly been a while, hasn't it? The good news is that I do believe I've gotten over the writing block snag of what comes next in this story! Will I be able to publish a new chapter every week? Eh, less likely, but I'd like to wrap this story up within the next few months at least!
Thank you for continuing along with this story with me, and I hope you enjoy the ending as much as I have enjoyed thinking about it for the past...oh gosh. Year?
Thanks for bearing with me, and as always, for reading. Until the next chapter!
