"Little ones, your deaths are near."

The thundering voice echoes through the streets and catches the attention of the normally stoic city-dwellers. They are astounded to see the brawny titan standing suddenly above them, towering over the citizenry and dwarfing them into insignificance. Pale eyes gaze down upon the populace, and a sneer curls across Gorgon’s muzzle. He then takes a heavy step forward--cars around him leap up into the air as the earth shakes. Many windows vibrate briefly before they shatter.

Then he takes another step forward--the earth lurches and flings many of the tiny creatures off their feet. Panic seizes them and they immediately begin to flee. To Gorgon, their movements are comical; they skitter madly almost like insects as they flow in a slow living tide away from his oncoming tread. As his huge foot descends into their midst the crowd parts, forming a brief clearing into which his foot lands and sinks into the pavement.

Gorgon rumbles with amusement at the panic--a sound like thunder to the insects below. Eyes as pale as Death's skeletal visage gazes down on the populace below, and he crouches to pick up a vehicle. It is like a toy in his great hand, and he stands, studying it for a moment. The vehicle jerks in his hand as within it some tiny occupants fling themselves about in blind terror. They peer through the windows with bulging eyes and scream at the sight of the minotaur’s scornful gaze. His fingers then rise up around them, his fist closing firmly around the frail metal shell, and the vehicle and its passengers are crushed in his powerful grip like nothing more than a soda can. then dropping it above the tiny specks below. As the wreckage crashes to the earth below the panic increases, with more and more tiny figures joining the great mass fighting to escape from the giant.

The crowd has grown much thicker now -- there is nowhere to run to, no way to get through the press of bodies on all sides. It is practically a sea of humanity now, a veritable carpet of tiny figures below the titan. There is wild activity in one spot, the puny beings falling upon one another and flailing. Gorgon sneers down at the pathetic creatures, and spits to the side in contempt. He lifts one massive foot over the gathering--the victims throw their arms skyward, all shrieking in unison and staring at the bottom of Gorgon’s foot as he raises it over them, then sends it crashing down with all his strength. It rushes downward, growing huge until it fills the sky, and then it lands upon them. There is a terrible wet snapping sound and juice squirts out to the sides. The minotaur can very briefly feel them writhing against his sole, and then almost immediately the sensation becomes more like that of warm mud.

Gorgon chuckles, and proceeds to make his way into the heart of the city, not caring what gets in his way. The sounds of death are truly horrific as the scornful giant simply walks over the crowd, stepping on dozens of helpless citizens like bugs and leaving them crushed flat in his wake. Onlookers cower away from high windows as his muscular thighs sweep past, and then creep back to watch in horror as his towering form retreats. The people crunch noisily beneath the giant tread, each step sounding like someone stepping down on thinly crusted snow.

Gorgon pauses for a moment, then crouches down, peering into one of the so- called 'high' windows. Seeing the inhabitants in their tiny boxes, he stands, wrapping his arms around the building. For those inside the world goes dark, seeing the minotaur’s mighty chest press against the windows and block out the light before he HEAVES, pulling up as much of the building as he can; it is a wild ride as the floor, which had always been so sound and sturdy, tilts and shudders madly under them.

Gorgon then looks down at the little creatures below, and smiles wickedly. "Let us play a game, little ones. It is called 'catch'" He then casually tosses the chunk of building, watching it and the inhabitants rain down on the populace below. Pieces of concrete and squealing bodies rain down from the torn end as four stories of apartments hurtle forward through the air. It lands far ahead of the evil giant on the street and explodes into a mammoth cloud of dust, burying a section of the mob and trapping thousands between a mountain of rubble and the towering form of Gorgon, who then grins. "So many victims, but how to play with them?" he muses aloud, raising the level of panic to new heights.

It is then a new idea is formed--he moves closer to the bugs, then sits down--a few are trapped beneath his rump as he sits on them; they are barely felt, their little bodies flattening into liquid. After getting comfortable, he stretches both legs across, trapping the victims between him and the rubble. They scrabble around the corral formed by the muscular walls of his thighs, but there is no escape. Gorgon has new toys to play with now. He reaches down towards the helpless prey, scooping up a handful of them. Screams rise louder as he sweeps his hand down and through the thick of the crowd, scooping them up like water and carrying them into the air. He then raises his hand, and studies them for a moment--some writhe in the giant palm, some of them tumbling off of their own accord, others trying to cling to the thick fingers, still others screaming, begging or praying. Gorgon then smiles as he slowly tips his hand, sending them spiraling down to the uncaring ground. Their shrieks are like sweet music to the minotaur’s ears as they tumble away, plunging down upon those still trapped below.

Gorgon grins with amusement as he lowers his thumb down on the remaining populace below, pulping their bodies like soap bubbles. Pandemonium reigns between the giant minotaur’s legs as he is slaughtering his captives, without reason and without mercy. They scramble about in all directions, struggling to avoid being crushed like ants beneath the murderous digit. Then, suddenly, Gorgon ceases his slaughter of those trapped below, and a bored expression crosses his face. "You bugs are being to lose my interest, and thus..." He does not think he needs to continue his statement. The corralled citizens continue to rush about in blind panic even when the killing stops, his bored expression striking even greater terror into them

Gorgon grins, and decides to end this little bit of fun. He begins to slowly bring his legs together--twin walls of hard, unyielding muscle grows ever closer to the doomed victims. Again the wild shrieks rise more shrilly. His mighty thighs slide relentlessly closer, the crowd retreating before them until they are packed tightly together. The muscular walls reach them and start to press, the tiny bodies writhing all along the length of the huge legs. The screams grow hoarse, starting to fade into a mass choking and wheezing as his legs press relentlessly closer together.

Finally, Gorgon squeezes his legs together, then gives a mighty FLEX--making his quads bulge even larger, pulping what feeble resistance remains. A long, horrible crackling noise rises as he callously crushes hundreds of helplessly citizens into mush between his mighty thighs. Their faces contort in agony and little fountains of red spring up all over, painting them all with glistening crimson as the minotaur’s raw power easily destroys them. He then stands, gore and blood raining gently onto the ground, splattering in a great heap beneath him . He moves onward, and once more the earth trembles beneath his tread; as he lifts his foot over the pile of wreckage that had been a building it once again squashes untold numbers who had been struggling away on the other side.

Gorgon pays no attention to the addition deaths he has just caused as he moves towards the heart of the city, his massive thighs brushing against the buildings as he moves past, ripping the walls into ruin. The street is empty for several blocks, but farther ahead the crowd is just as thick, and screeching just as horrified at the sight of the mangled remains clinging to the powerful legs of the murderous giant. He moves closer to the terrified masses, crushing the street's pavement into powder, until he looms over the populace below. He places both hands against the buildings beside him, and peers down at the insects, an evil grin stretching across his muzzle.

The citizens are mad with terror. The giant who has invaded the city has been seen casually stepping on people, and when he stopped it was only to brutally slaughter hundreds, apparently for the simple amusement of killing them. Now he stands like a god over the powerless humanity, his grin cold and filled with contempt for those below him, yet it betrays his enjoyment of the carnage he is causing, . There will be no mercy, no easy death, and they know it.

Gorgon's voice seems to cut through their terror, filling the city with his deep sound. "Those who stand before me and pledge their allegiance shall be spared my wrath. You have three seconds to comply." He counts slowly, and at the 3rd count, he looks down at those who stand before him. At first some fight their way toward the black behemoth, and in those three seconds a small group has begun to form before him. Their eyes are filled with hope for salvation, but sadly, Gorgon’s definition of escaping his wrath is that of a quick death. One quick step forward, and they are indeed spared his wrath. The last sight they see is that of their god's foot coming down on them before they are smashed into oblivion, their innards squirting out onto those trying to stumble away on either side. The remaining survivors meet his cold stare. "Now, the foreplay is over," Gorgon sneers.

The crowd is insane now, clawing at one another in their desperation to find safety. The looming figure of the minotaur makes many faint with fright, their limp bodies disappearing beneath the sea of heads. Indeed, it is as much the sheer size of his body as the sight of his chilling grin which displays his excitement to destroy them that causes them to lose consciousness.

Gorgon grins sadistically, reaching down to scoop a handful of victims, reducing them to mere toys in his hand. They scramble wildly, a mass of humanity wriggling like caterpillars in his palm before rubbing them against his broad chest. While doing this, he idly moves forward, raining death upon the populace below with his crushing tread. They now become part of the terrible drama, helping to provide the bull-god with his pleasure as he begins brutally crushing the helpless multitudes beneath his gigantic feet. His captives squirm almost as hard between his fingers and his chest as those who squirm beneath his toes, shrieking out their last breaths before it is mashed from their lungs.

Those on the ground suffer in a deadly lottery of sorts. They cannot escape, and can only pray frantically that they will not fall beneath the cruel giant's tread. Many are left choking with relief as they watch the vast, blood-smeared sole of the giant rush through the air over their heads, to land with a horrid crunching sound farther away. Others are not so lucky, and are trapped in the shadow of Gorgon’s descending foot with nothing to do but wait for the agony of being crushed into pulp, like those whose skins are stuck like squashed insects to his sole. Still others are brained as one of the minotaur’s captives wiggles free and falls. The giant cares nothing for their suffering, however; he cares only for his own pleasure.

Gorgon rumbles with satisfaction over the death and destruction he is causing, the very sound shaking the ground below. He glances at the occupants of the building, then grins as he gets inspired for the chance to cause more fatalities. Moving over to one of the fragile structures, he slowly moves his arms around the building like a lover, and starts to squeeze it against his chest, crushing it with his great strength until with a loud rumble, the entire structure simply disintegrates, falling apart in his arms and dropping into a pile of rubble.

The minotaur smiles at the crushed remains of the structure, then looks back to the populace. The square below him looks almost like a living carpet, crammed full of puny beings. A trail leads through the crowd--huge footprints, red, with the mangled remains of meat and clothing pressed down into them. He flings what little rubble he has in his arms to them, almost as if showering them with deadly affection; chunks of the building scatter through the crowd, cutting swaths through it as they fly away from the evil titan.

"Insects. No challenge for me." Gorgon rumbles as he takes a heavy step, idly slamming his fists into random buildings, making them crumble all around him like houses of cards. The crowd is still milling around like the insects they are, just like a disturbed anthill. Gorgon reaches down to scoop up yet another handful as a cruel idea forms in his mind. The minotaur can see them cower and try to duck away from his mammoth hand as it descends, only to tumble in a great wave into his palm and pile up there, limbs kicking amusingly from its depths as they struggle to free themselves from the tangle.

Far below there is a tickle at his feet; whereas the crowd is always fighting to push back from the great crushing feet, there are now three or four on their hands and knees, licking and fondling slavishly at the tips of the minotaur’s giant toes, though their faces are stricken with mortal terror. The rest are as before, reduced to mindless, shrieking blobs by the horror of the merciless giant who has corralled them.

Gorgon tsks. "I so despise spineless worship." His would-be worshippers, hoping to curry the minotaur’s favor, now find his huge toes rising and moving over them. They scream in short-lived agony as the giant toes press down on them, and each of them pops bloodily as Gorgon grinds the so-called 'worshippers' into the asphalt.

The minotaur’s stomachs begin to growl, and he grins as he looks as the writing mass in his hand before he raises his hand above his muzzle. They can see the glistening pointed teeth and writhe even more wildly as the minotaur’s hand tilts and they start to tumble toward the vast, fanged maw that yawns open beneath them. Frantic screams and shouts of "don't eat me!" fade through the air as Gorgon’s mouth fills with wiggling morsels.

Gorgon does not bother to even chew. This meal is swallowed whole. "Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair." He reaches forward, and pulls on a building, trapping the insects below. He sits, and the corral is formed again. The captives now know that there will be no surviving the giant's rampage. They have just seen him eat people alive, and know now how they are seen--they were playthings, they were insects to be crushed, and now it is clear that they are food. They continue to plead for mercy as the huge minotaur surrounds them with his mammoth legs, and their struggles are wild as he looms over them and gaze down at them with that uncaring, hungry smile. They push against his legs, try to crawl beneath his knees, anything to escape that terrible gaze.

Gorgon's heart is cold. He feels no pity for them. He scoops up yet another handful, dropping them one by one into his cavernous muzzle. They plead. They squeal. They cling to one another. And they fall, one by one, dropping from Gorgon’s fingers and tumbling down into his waiting mouth. They bounce on his tongue and pile up there, clawing their way forward, desperate to get away from the looming gullet behind them. They can even hear the muffled screams of those who are already inside the giant's stomach.

Gorgon waits until he has dropped the last one, then stretches his tongue teasingly forward, giving them one last bit of hope before withdrawing it back into the uncaring dark. One swallow, then another--the sound of his gulp rises above even the din of the crowd. A huge clump of people is shoved backward by the thick tongue and stuffed into his throat; they are squeezed as though by a mighty fist, pushed down in one writhing mass, forming a lump in the minotaur’s throat that slides down and disappears at his chest. The struggles within Gorgon’s stomach intensifies. Those between his legs can only watch in numb shock as his jaw works, the sound of crushing bones and rending flesh assailing their ears.

Gorgon then grins bloodily down at the survivors as his great hand reaches down for more. He gathers a mass of flesh into his hand, but his fist can barely contain them--little bodies poke out between his fingers all around, limbs kicking, faces ashen and mouths open in mingled screams. He raises the gripping member skyward...and squeezes. His might is absolute, a fact cruelly demonstrated as he crushes them all in his bare hand with laughable ease. The blood rains down his lips--a thick warm soup that splashes onto his tongue, a salty and sweet repast--and he drinks until there is no more, discarding the pulpy mass into the crowd below. His grin could drive the most hardened sociopath into tears.

He is an evil force of nature...

...and he is not yet finished playing.

To be continued...