G/T One Shots

False Hope | Part 2

Phil slowly opened his eyes. Where was he? The surface he was on was radiating warmth. He glanced at it, his stomach dropping as he realized what it was. The predator's hand.

Everything came rushing back to him. The predator. He'd almost eaten him. Why hadn't he? Or was Phil dead and this was simply a torturous afterlife? His stomach dropped as he realized what had happened.

Phil had passed out before.

He let out a whimper of frustrated, confused despair. Dan would probably just want him to be awake to suffer. Predators were cruel like that, weren't they?

His head was slowly lifted to look up, guided—or forced, more so—by the predator's finger. Phil's breath hitched and his bottom lip began to tremble.

Glowing brown eyes stared down at him and he saw a sharp canine peek out from behind Dan's lip as he smirked.

"P-Please." Phil whimpered, shrinking back as the predator leaned closer.  "I'll—I'll—" His voice died in the back of his throat as the predator plucked him up by the back of his shirt, lifting him to be level with the huge face.

"You'll what?" Dan asked, quirking an amused brow. "What can you do?"

"NOTHING! I'm too damn small!" Phil startled both of them with his outburst. He shied away, realizing what he'd done.

He'd yelled at him. The predator. Great, yell at the giant monster literally holding your life in his hands. Way to go, Phil.

Now, yes, it may seem absurd to be so afraid of the repercussions, but for Phil, all the results of those actions involved his death as he thought about it.

He didn't want to die. A sob threatened to rip its way out of his throat.

"I—I didn't—I—" Phil stumbled over words in a fearful and hasty apology. He whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he was moved closer to the intimidating visual of the predator's face—more specifically to his eye, as if seeing him better was worth something. Phil squirmed, terrified of what was to become of him and beginning to sway precariously back and forth between the predator's thumb and forefinger.

"Stop." The growled command by the predator made the borrower tense up and cease his movements.

He was moved away from Dan's face as the predator stood up, making Phil's stomach do somersaults.

He'd never seen the room from the perspective of a predator—or really anything other than a borrower's. He was so high off of the ground.

A predator's perspective of the world to him? Terrifying.

A predator's view of him? Also terrifying.

The furniture that usually towered above him was lower than he was in his current position. That realization hit him like a crashing wave of insignificance. He must be absolutely diminutive to a creature as powerful as a predator.

He'd been so zoned out, he hadn't realized that the predator had been talking to him.

"...All that said, your situation just got better, little borrower."

Phil looked up at him in confusion, not even realizing that they had stopped in the kitchen. He let out a startled cry as he fell through the air. It only lasted for a moment before he smacked into the cold countertop. His eyes swiveled upward to meet the predator's, who loomed above him in a menacing way even now, though he looked almost apologetic.

He scrambled back frantically, his breathing quick and shallow. He yelped as the predator moved his hand behind his small figure. Phil whimpered as his back met the warm leathery surface behind it, and he flinched, though he cowered into it as Dan leaned closer.