The Gobbler - Part 5: Just a grub
Something was moving in the near distance, it looked large, and struggling. When the dust had cleared, their eyes grew large and their mouths drew long.
There sat a giant worm, the height of eight floors and the width of twelve beds, smack in the middle of the hall.
Its eight grubby legs, each as large as a carriage, was grabbing something familiar, yet sorely out of shape.
It was the mean, big man! His eyes were closed as though in slumber, his face twisted in a crooked smile, red as if he had drunk too much wine.
The grub took its mighty head, now as smooth as an egg. Then, it opened its mouth. First a tiny, black dot emerged from the rumples of flesh.
Quickly, it grew larger and larger, the size of a dark, black star. And down it gobbled the man's head, full and whole. With the head swallowed, the rest of the body followed. Limbs, arms, legs, torso, everything merged like a lump of swollen, brackish skin, so tight and stretched it looked like it would rupture. It all went down the giant gobbler's mouth, moving in giant, rapid ripples down its belly, until the last toe was sucked, and a shoe dropped down.
Thud! The giant shoe fell in front of the villagers, their face pale as sheet.