The stompers

Jin

If there was one thing Jin regretted about the day, it was leaving his terrier Dummy behind. Now he felt terribly lonely, all tied up with his hands and feet behind him. If Dummy was here, at least they could die together.

His head was still spinning, afire, after that generous dose of meth Dirk shoved into his mouth when they roped him up.

"It's your last shot. Be thankful I got you drugged to death. You know there are worse ways to die," Dirk had said.

He said other things but there was no way for Jin to hear him. He was under.

And when Jin was under, he saw things he only imagined seeing in his dreams.

Like the lady in yellow walking through the door. She was stunning even as the red glare of the drug surrounded her figure. She even looked liked Jin's dearest Monica. Didn't she pass away? How could she be here?

She was his only company now in this dark bedroom. Dirk and the others have fled, in a frantic haste to leave. Something was coming, Jin remembered them say. Damnation, that's what's coming for them.

Yellow Monica stooped down, making it easier for Jin to check out the shape of her jaw. She was indeed Monica. Her nose came just an inch from him. She seemed to be studying his face.

"Mon-Monica..." he breathed.

She dabbed a kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes then, reveling on the soft warm texture of her lips on his moist skin. When he opened them though, all that was left of her was a flock of butterflies.

They fluttered lightly around him, enveloping him in the tiny wisps of breeze their little wings made. They were too bright for his eyes, too sunny.

He only intended to blink but reopening his lids took tenfold of the effort. They were heavy and they wanted to shut the light off.

Something was crawling under his skin and it awakened him. A bug. But his hands were tied and he could not scratch it. Then there was another one. Longer. Bigger. And crawled under his back, wiggling its way over his shoulder and up his neck. Another bug started to wiggle on his scalp. It was painful and annoying the way it tried to get out. He direly needed to tear them off. If he wouldn't, he would die in agony.

"Stop!...Stop!" He screamed.

He winced as more bugs crawled around him. They made their way to his legs and calf, forcing his muscles apart. He could do nothing but coil in pain, struggle to get his hands free but fail.

"No...No...No! No!"

His drool started dripping onto the floor. He stared out into midair, helpless.

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he awakened gasping for breath. The only thing he inhaled was a lungful of fluid that that was not air. He was drowning.

Things were floating inches off the floor. And he did not know where he was.

His body was sore and tired and his head was heavier than a rock.

He had to get up.

He wiggled around, his face now facing the floor and his lungs out of breath. He pushed his abdomen up, his forehead supporting his body. Then he rose - on his knees and able to breathe. But he immediately lost balance and fell over the other way.

He crawled for the bed and somehow managed to get on it. He swept the room, wide-eyed. The water was utterly invisible. He wondered if this was still the drug playing tricks with his eyes.

The level was quickly rising. At this rate he'd drown.

He searched for something in the drawers. Unluckily for him, it was a girl's bedroom so there was nothing sharp to cut the rope with.

The lampshade caught his eye. It happened to be made of glass. He grabbed it between his knees.

It was a difficult stunt. He laid his side with the lampshade in front of his legs. Then with a quick jerk of his back, he threw it off the bed with his knee. It flew to the floor and successfully shattered.

He scrambled down for the fragment. He took one in his hands and started slicing the rope. It was a good thing it came off easy.

He was almost done with the rope around his feet when the winds seized and the rumbling sounded clearer. He took it off hastily and run to the window.

The eye of the storm had arrived.

A silhouette came into view. A man's figure towering every house and tree in the horizon. More emerged from the distance, stomping everything that lay in their path. They carried what appeared to be huge clubs which they brandish remorselessly - more like children demolishing a sand castle.

It seemed there were worse ways to die indeed.

Jin watched in horror as one giant pulled a two-storey off the ground then tossed it aside. Another one kicked a random house down as the one next to it stomped a tree flat to the ground. Someone was jumping around and another seemed to be dancing.

Through the still air, he heard their laughing and the sounds stones made when they crumbled. These creatures were mental. And they were heading in his direction.

Jin saw a giant pluck the figure of a person out of a house. Then not a second later, it dropped it into its mouth. Jin had never felt so cold a chill up his spine before. It was beyond terrifying. The dogs that were left, the people who chose to stay - they were like crabs on a beach and these giants, they were not children thrashing around without a purpose, they were bears toppling rocks over to feed.

When they were but a kilometer far, Jin saw beyond a shadow of a doubt how they were the incarnate of evil. They had hairs all over their body, with a strange putrid smell that preceeded their coming. Their eyes were charred black and their lips a dark unhealthy purple. Their spiked clubs were made of wood, a large wood that did not grow on this planet for it was bigger than the giants' limbs and sturdier than the stones they smashed.

Gawking at the imposing size of them, Jin almost forgot he had to hide. They were here now. He run for the stairs, took a lungful of air and descended the steps until he was entirely under the flood. He grabbed onto the rail and put a piece of wood over his head. They must not see him.

The thud of their steps rocked the earth and Jin could feel it through the water and the stairs.

They passed by. He felt their steps. And he saw them pass by the window. Now that they were nearer, he could register their voices and the way that they were in sync with all the others. They seemed to be singing a warsong.

With one strike, the roof and the entirety of the second storey came off. Bright sunlight and debris showered upon him.

The rest of the house shook as a huge dirty foot swung in. The unseen fluid sent Jin to the air, utterly exposed. He landed on the street, the fluid slightly cushioning his fall.

His back took all the force of the impact and he feared his ribs broke. He was caught in a throe of pain and it did not matter that he was sinking, losing his consciousness in a cloud of bubbles. His head hurt, his back hurt, his vision darkened. He had never so much as wanted to fall asleep.

Ungently, something clasped his legs, bringing him up to the air again. He gasped for breath and limply hang upside down.

It stinks. It was the only thought on his head. It stinks. It fucking stinks.

He felt himself being hoisted up higher.

Then he heard it. A faint song. A fluttering of tiny wings that barely stirred the air and made a sound. But he heard it. He heard it blowing around him.

He saw flashes of yellow and heard the giant screaming. He felt being thrashed around. And suddenly he was in free fall, the pressure on his legs relieved.

He hit the water again. But this time it did not hurt as much.

The butterflies, he saw now. They gathered in a hostile cloud that enveloped the giant who screamed as if being mutilated.

It was just a flesh after all burning in yellow fire. He found it strangely amusing to look at.

Before Jin could sink again, a hand pulled him up tenderly. When he sat up, he came face to face with the yellow lady.

"You're safe now," she said.

"Monica?" She was indeed Monica. She sounded like her. She perfectly looked like her. The curve of her nose, the sheen of her hair, and the shape of her eyes. Even the fragrance she wore.

"What is your name?"

"I'm Jin, you know who I am."

"Now I do," she smirked. "Come."

Jin had lost all his strength; yet when she beckoned for him, he was suddenly invigorated as though he had chunked loads of energy drinks. "Where are we going?"

The burning giant had long stopped flailing. The butterflies finally scattered, exposing what remained of the huge beast. It collapsed in a cascade of humungous bones, its skull tumbling off first. Its wooden club fell onto the ruins with a thud.

"To the one who made this storm," she answered, looking past all the giants and the horizon.