THE GIGAS

pg 6

What's left of the nest swarms behind me as I pause on top of the mountain.

The valley below is eerily silent and seemingly devoid of any life. As though the humans and the creatures below had an inkling of the danger that is coming, the future battle that may crush thier lives under its contemptuous foot.

I scan the area from above carefully. We'll have to wait for the signal from our newly appointed leader to move out.

Though.................

Did it have to be that vapid favorite? I can only imagine that he had peppered the queen with flattery for her to sympathetically grace him with this position.

I gently shrug my shoulders before stretching out my back to alleviate the tense muscles there. Oh, well I can't complain anyways.

The nest nervously quanders their own individual fates. Many embrace each other with forceful purpose and whispers of hopeful future reunion are exchanged.

I look at the scene with some sadness. This is why I prefer not be apart of a nest, the matriarch could make or break your fate. I would rather have a say in my own destiny.

I yearn for a privilege that my species culture wouldn't be tolerant or understanding of.

" Set out as soon as you take your positions, nest brothers!!" The favorite's voice boomed over us.

Its beginning. We each grow grave, the chatter dies down abruptly and our faces start reflecting the seriousness of the situation.

We are going off to battle.

Tonight we either obliterate the humans or we suffer a humiliatingly crushing defeat.

Unlike the last time the nest was here, most of the outer ranks are no more. The combination of being wiped out from the first battle and the sudden collapse of the den hall has made them almost nonexistent.

The very few who had survived have been absorbed into the middle ranking males. Thus the squad lines are more tight and neater this time around.

I watch as rows and rows of the squadrons walk down to the valley below making their way to the human stronghold.

Rippling lines of dark figures moving under the moonlight march reaching the hill that the ghostly pale illuminated strong hold sits upon. A blare sounds faintly at first strengthening as time went on. Our presence is known and we do not expect anything other than wretched gore in battle.

This time we will not give the humans time to disperse cold bombs into our midst.

Still I watched as the shadows swallow the moonlight plunging the area in darkness.

The nest has descended upon the stronghold.

Bright sprinkles of fire weakly spray over the dark shadows as they attack relentlessly. The sparks that catch on their bodies quickly wilt on the shiny mucous covering of my brethren.

From this distance the defense of the humans looks greatly lacking without the cold bombs. Fire does little to dampen the wave of nest members clamoring to destroy the humans.

Froooo!! Froooooooosh!!!

A large stream of fire mushroomed in between the shadows suddenly, surprising me on my perch. It flashed brightly before sputtering out, the ones closest burst into flames despite their mucous covering. They fell off to the side like wounded flies, sprawling their charred remains amongst the other fallen victims below.

As the flames become more constant in the fervor of battle, the desperation of the enemy became more apparent.

The stronghold became its own torch in the inky blackness but just like the object it likens itself to, it will be just as easily extinguished.