New Heights - Chapter 1

Sam pulled an oaken bow from the back of the Impala, running a hand along its length. Out of all the monsters he could have been going after... He shook his head in incredulity. He wouldn't have believed the story, honestly, if it weren't for Bobby's stern berating over the phone. Caleb's the one who found it, and you know he ain't one for telling stories. Now quit being a know-it-all, ya idjit!

He smirked fondly at the memory, but quickly sobered when he returned his attention to the weapon before him. He slung a quiver of poison-tipped silver arrows across his back, figuring at least part of the lore they'd pieced together would have an effect. He wasn't one for archery, but apparently bow and arrow was one of the identified death weapons, in Greek mythology if he remembered correctly. The silver was pure speculation, and the poison a failsafe. Though he would usually handle the research himself, at Bobby's insistence he had relinquished his own idea of a well-placed slash to the throat with a blessed sword.  

After all, killing a giant wasn't exactly his area of expertise.

He shut the trunk, switching on his flashlight and sweeping the beam across the uneven, leaf-strewn ground, wincing at the crunching of dead foliage accompanying his every step. With a creature that large, its hearing would either be too dim to perceive the small noises Sam was making, or, it would have even sharper senses, magnified along with its size,  easily catching wind of him, and taking away any chance at the element of surprise. Knowing his luck, it would likely be the latter option. He resisted the urge to sigh, instead trudging on, with a hunter's light tread, making as little noise as possible.

When he got to the barbed-wire fence separating the nature preserve from the outside world, he shoved his sweatshirt sleeves over his hands and pulled himself over, landing on the other side with a grunt.

A rustle in the darkness ahead made him freeze for moment, assessing. After a moment, he turned off the flashlight, just in case, and resigned himself to the moonlight that made it between the trees in dancing, silvery patches.

He navigated the the woods for a good half-hour, resisting the temptation to let his guard down at the apparent undisturbed wildlife — tree frogs calling brightly, crickets chirping in reply, the occasional hoot of an owl or squeak of a bat breaking the steady droning in the crisp autumn night. There was something out here, and it was his job to take it out before the death count got any higher.

He paused in a valley, noting his location. If he needed to make a quick escape, he was going to have to know where the car was parked. As he took stock of the incline before him, he frowned, discovering it was much steeper than any of the hills before it. And...plaid-patterned?

A slight movement of the shape before him stopped him cold. In a rush of adrenaline he realized exactly what the hill was, and exactly how much trouble he was in.

All in one motion he swung the bow around, notched an arrow, and aimed at the towering mass. It merely moved up and down again, with a slight rush of warm air. The giant was breathing peacefully. I caught it sleeping? Really? he thought with a spark of hope. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad of a hunt after all.

He stepped back a few paces, and took in the enormous body. It was laying on its side, putting its broad chest front and center in Sam's vision. Farther down he could make out what must have been a pair of building-sized legs, crooked at the knee to avoid a copse of trees. A mix of curiosity and hesitation gripped his stomach as he walked along the giant's length toward the massive face, arrow notched and tense against the bowstring.

It — he, Sam corrected himself — was fast asleep, countenance still and arm pillowed beneath his head. By virtue of the lack of trees, pale light poured over the clearing, giving the colossus the bleached appearance of an intricately detailed marble figure, complete with the sweep of long lashes against a smattering of freckles.

It was this observation that brought the hunter's attention back to his task. The eye would be the best target. A swift path to the brain, incapacitating at the very least, and instant, painless death if the lore held. Hopefully it would. His father's probable disapproval at the misplaced compassion came before his mind for a moment. He shoved it away impatiently and took careful aim.

A blur of motion startled him into an early release. He cursed as the arrow buried itself into the giant's hand. The hand that had just moved to grab him.

The giant yelped at the unexpected pain, his hand drawing back in a movement far too swift for something that magnitude. Sam gaped as the titan sat up, blocking out the moon and most of the stars, and plunging his world into shadow. Reeling at the sheer size, he was barely able to sort through the pure terror rushing through his veins, the insistent urge to run, far and fast. He brought the bow up again, a new arrow on the string, and fired. This time the giant flinched, blocking the projectile with his vast palm.

"Son of a BITCH!" he thundered, shaking his hand as if trying to get rid of the sting.

Sam had just enough time to duck before an oncoming monolith of flesh and bone snatched him high into the air. He cried out, struggling furiously against the massive weight of the fingers wrapping around him, though he knew it was useless. His arms were pinned hopelessly against his side, his entire lower body clenched effortlessly in a immense fist. Even his panting breaths caused his chest to meet unyielding pressure. Fearfully he looked up and found himself pinned by a pair of sharp, green eyes.

"Dude," the giant said, sounding affronted. "You shot me."

He blinked, because the lore had clearly stated giants were not the sharpest crayon in the box, and the gaze inspecting him with a slight frown was far too intelligent for his liking. He fought harder in his captor's grip, legs kicking at empty air and arms squirming against their fleshy bonds.

The giant took absolutely no notice of this. Instead he turned his attention to his other hand and carefully plucked each arrow from the bloom of red they caused. Sam swallowed as he realized they were no more than pinpricks. He was pretty sure even the fingers were taller than his whole body.

His heart jumped into his throat as the giant returned his intense regard to his capture. He smirked, and on a face the size of a house, it was too wide, too tall, too lopsided, too wrong. "What's up with the Legolas impression?" he asked, eyeing the quiver of arrows slung across Sam's back.

He didn't answer, still scrabbling against the inside of the giant's fist. Desperation was beginning to claw at his throat.

The giant's gaze dropped to the ground, where the bow had fallen in the struggle. He pinched it between thumb and finger and lifted it to eye-level. It was practically a twig in comparison. Sam had a sudden vision of those enormous fingers squeezing tighter and tighter, his ribs cracking one by one under the giant's steady, unconcerned smirk —

"You're here to kill me," the giant said quietly. "Aren't you?"

The statement jolted Sam into immobility. He stared up at the suddenly inscrutable expression, and felt the panic swirling in his stomach pull into a tight, heavy knot.

The giant stared at him for a long, heart-pounding moment. Then he sighed, ruffling Sam's hair with the warm, heavy exhalation. "Alright, kid," he said. "You're obviously way out of your depth with this. And I would’ve let you go if I thought you wouldn't come back with more hunters."

Sam's heart started pounding double what it had before. He was going to die, wasn't he? Right here, right now.

"So I want you to pull out your cell phone and call whoever sent you and tell them you ganked me," he continued. "And if you code word, I'm gonna know it, and I'm not gonna like it. Capiche?"

He nodded, swallowing hard. He had to figure a way out of this. Shit, how could he figure a way out of this?

The fist around him loosened enough to let him dig a shaking hand in his jacket pocket, press a trembling finger to speed dial, and lift the cell to his ear. It rang. And rang. And rang. Finally he got voicemail. Bobby's gruff voice nearly brought tears to his eyes. But he gritted his teeth. "Hey, Bobby," he said, his voice as level as he could make it. "It's Sam. I got the giant. Managed to burn the remains without starting a forest fire. Thanks for your help. I, uh, got a call for another hunt nearby, so...I guess I'll see you around." His throat closed, and he hastily hung up.

"Phone, please."

He hesitated before dropping his cell in the proffered palm. It skidded into the lifeline and stayed, looking more like a little speck of black plastic than anything else. Sam gulped.

The giant gave him a soft look that really made him uncomfortable. Like he was genuinely sorry he was about to crush Sam out of existence.

"Just do it," he said, shutting his eyes and bracing himself, hoping it would be quick.

There was a too-long moment where nothing happened. Sam hated himself for it, but he peered up at the giant after a few long seconds.

"I'm not going to kill you," the giant said plainly. "I probably should, but I'm not going to."

The fingers twitched around him, and Sam flinched, expecting the worst, but they only twisted and opened, leaving him lying on his belly across the broad palm. He scrambled out of the exposed, vulnerable position as soon as he had enough leeway to do so, settling into a coiled crouch. He glared warily up at the giant. "What are you going to do, then?" he asked, pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Well, I can't exactly let you run off, now can I?" the giant replied with a teasing smirk. "Blow my cover. Like that other guy, the one with the bum leg." Caleb, Sam's brain provided. "I mean, I kinda want to live. I'm sure you get that." There was a sliver of teeth showing, glinting in the moonlight, and Sam tried desperately not to think of sharks and alligators and Jack and the Beanstalk.

"I guess I've got to hold onto you," the giant said casually. "At least till we can get an agreement worked out."

Sam felt like he'd been suckerpunched directly in the stomach, or maybe like someone had vacuumed all the air out of his lungs. "W-What?"

"Guess we’re gonna be sticking together for a while," the giant said, seemingly unconcerned by the oncoming panic attack.

Scratch the punch or the vacuum. This was so much worse. He was facing down a living death in captivity to a monster.

He scrambled to his feet, intending to leap off the side of the massive hand, only to be closed in a fist before he could come close. "Let go of me!" he shouted, fighting against the too-powerful fingers with all his might. "Let me go, you fucking BASTARD!" His breath was coming too fast, black dancing at the edge of his vision.

The giant was saying something else, something likely meant to be soothing, but the oncoming hand aimed at his face kind of drowned out any calmness that might have inspired, even if he had been inclined to listen to his captor. He ducked as the tip of the massive finger landed on the crown of his head, but it only ruffled his hair, in what was likely supposed to be a light and comforting touch. Instead Sam felt horribly patronized, bile rising in his throat as he struggled and shouted.

"God, you're a feisty little bitch," the giant chuckled and stood, and shit, Sam may well have underestimated the monster's height. It was hard to tell through the blinding panic and his attempt to get his teeth to break through thick, callused skin. He was only chest-high and he could still splatter if he hit the ground from here. He realized dimly in the back of his mind he was hyperventilating, and maybe he didn't want to pass out while completely under the power of a colossus with dubious intentions. It was a little late to think about that, though.

He sunk into darkness, sharp green eyes pinning him from far above, and hoped to God he would wake up to find it all a dream.