Giantess Island

Eaten and Eaten Again

Fernanda ran through the foliage with the monsters at her back and her heart at her throat. Her feet sunk on the layer of fallen leaves over the ground, threatening to make her slip. She had taken her sandals off to run faster, and a few stray rocks had buried into the flesh at the base of her feet. God, it hurt so much, she had to take seconds to take them out, seconds the monsters used to run closer. She wasn't made for this, for running, for survival, she was just a forty-four-year-old mother who worked ten hours a day at an office, sitting all day. The closest thing she'd ever been to running before was the rush for the bathroom during her breaks. She was not built for being chased, not prepared for surviving, she shouldn't have survived if she was honest with herself. Had luck not been on Fernanda's side, she would've melted away in the gut of that fat girl.

God, what a mistake that had been. Fernanda had tried to steal some food for her daughter, hoping that the monster, in her hunger, wouldn't notice her. The plan had worked far too well, and a distracted hand had caught her by the wrist, and she was shoved straight into the mouth of that gluttonous giant, who didn't even know that she'd eaten a person. If it hadn't been for Cassandra, such an angel of a person, Fernanda wouldn't even be there, running for her life. Oh, Cassandra, she didn't deserve what had happened, she didn't. The guilt felt heavy in Fernanda's chest. If she'd been less prudish, if she hadn't insisted on going to her room to change, then they wouldn't have been chased, and none of this would've happened.

It was her fault, all her fault. She was a failure, as she'd always been. She was a failure at her workplace, too busy typing away at a keyboard to be included in any friendship, in any group to hang out. She was a failure as a mother, she'd left her precious daughter alone in this situation, and now she would probably never see her again. She was a failure as a person, getting stupidly caught by a giant and only being saved by the tremendous generosity of someone who didn't know her. Now she'd failed to take care of the children, four of the kids that made up the group had gone missing, and she hadn't even made an effort to go back for them.

A failure, in everything. Now she ran for her life, and something told her she would fail at this too. Her breaths came in wheezes, her legs trembled with every step she took. She would get eaten again. It was inevitable. But she kept running, because all she wanted now was to survive, as bad as she was at it. "Please," she gasped, "Wait for me."

"Hurry up!" the last kid remaining called out. Fernanda couldn't recall his name, he hadn't been there when she escaped that fat girl's stomach. He stood at the top of a hill taller than Fernanda was. They were supposed to be going to a cabin, hidden in the middle of this jungle, but she didn't know where they were going. Trying to act as a guide in that condition would be worthless, so she trusted this boy to know where he was going, she trusted that climbing such a steep hill was the way to go. She put a hand up, held onto a rock, and tried to raise a foot up. Her foot slipped every time, her toes unable to find purchase in the wet, mossy rock. "Hurry..." the boy insisted.

"Please, please," she begged the rock, please let her climb, please let her escape. The giantesses were getting closer. Fernanda found a loose root, she closed her hands around it. Using it as a rope, she climbed. Good God, it was hard, the last time she'd lifted anything was when they were moving years ago. Just dragging herself up a bit took an immense amount of effort. But she was ascending, she was going to make it. The stomps of the giantess sounded closer. Trees began to fall. Fernanda hurried. She was so close to the edge, so close to reaching the boy, and the monsters so close to reaching them that Fernanda could hear the growling of their enormous stomachs. She refused to get trapped inside one of those ever again. She put in one last bit of effort, the top was so close, she could just reach out and touch the ledge.

"Fuck this," the boy said, then stomped on her hand.

The pain shocked Fernanda, it made her lose her grip. She slipped and fell, hitting her back against the leafy soil. "God," she groaned, as she saw the silhouette of the boy slip away into the foliage. "Little bastard," she said, pushing herself up. It was at that moment that she noticed she couldn't hear the monsters anymore. The little sun that had been leaking through the trees above was gone too. Fernanda's heart sank. She gulped, then looked up.