Council Veins

The name we give to things that we don't understand.

He began as and when mankind began. When the first man concealed food from a starving, wayward traveller to protect his family for the coming winter, he came into being. He would circle the cave fires as a small dust mote, dancing with the flames and watching the after dark habits. He grew to the size of a fly when a woman gave birth to a fine son, who’s father was unknown. When the first language was spoken, setting man apart from other beasts, he became the size of a babe. He cried as any other would cry but none would care for him, his smell was not recognisable. Left to himself he cried as the growing pains riveted through his body, their words filtered through him, spurring his growth. If he could close his ears, close them and it might finish. As a woman buried her murdered son he let out a fearful cry, growing into man size.
Under the guise of a new comer he was free to wander through the groups, watching and listening. Realising now that he could stop what was happening he set forth. To the hoarders he said share, to the wary he said fear not, to the thieves he said ask. They laughed with their red-hot faces, throwing their insults at him, taunting and teasing him until he could bear it no more. The pains lengthened his arms and legs, the blood in his veins was pumping so vigorously, in any man they would have burst. He fled to the mountains where he found a dark, dank cavern, providing the solitude that he craved. He could not understand their unwillingness to help. If they could just see, witness with their own eyes his predicament, his curse.
The tonnes of sheer rock above and around him soaked in his groans, his self-beating and growth-restraining torture. It wept with him, forming a cage of stalactites and stalagmites containing him and restricting his rage. If they could see, see, see. It ran circles in his mind, convincing evermore that this was reason to leave, to visit them at their homes. To make them see. Even here, in the cold and dark, their voices reached him, their tales and follies. It seemed he would never escape paying for their actions.
There was no telling how long he was locked away for. His eyes had changed, adapting themselves to the dark, silvery slits in a midnight sky. His flesh had pressed against the bars forcing them to bend to his shape, ensuring that he couldn’t move. The pressure built up inside his brain, lies pounding the inside of his skull. They bounced, hitting nerve after nerve, causing unnatural reactions, twisting his brain and discolouring it. In a fit of despair he outgrew his cage, outgrew his cave. He stood upon the mountain he had inhabited, breathing in the cool air, shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the midday sun. Midnight eyes resolved themselves and colour returned to his vocabulary. He saw the eagle chase the mouse, and then the owl and the eagle yet again.
There were no more cave dwellers. The people had moved out into the open plains and deserts, unafraid of the world. They had moved rock and stone to build themselves red nests that towered over their puny bodies. Their fires were strong and fierce, lighting up the night sky and smothering lungs with ash. They wore clothes fashioned to shelter from the sun glare, adorned with trinkets and obscenities. Their talk consisted of corporeal beings excusing their actions, providing health and satisfaction. Unaware of the consequences they would ask for forgiveness of sins, not knowing who truly heard them.
Ever growing he took his first step. The earth trembled and the trees shook, the people stopped their business to listen and watch. Earthquake some thought, angry Earth thought others. The leaves flew off the trees as the trembles increased in vigour. He walked miles in just a few steps, moving faster than a skittering gazelle, trampling the sick and old.
The city folk had gathered themselves in the square to watch for his arrival, herdsman had heralded his advance, fleeing the hills. Their eyes widened as they saw his height and girth reach the sun. He cast a shadow on the tallest of their towers defeating their pompous assumptions of sovereignty and that made them shiver and squirm. He mocked their fear of him, laughing so that their bones vibrated in their fleshy bodies. This was how he would make them see.
With his fists bunched and heart aching, he smashed the buildings to the ground scattering rubble all over at high speeds destroying anything near. The city folk ran to the dunes and hid themselves in craters to escape the giant’s wrath. He stamped and squashed until there was nothing left but the people that he could not physically hurt. The thought of seeing their insides revolted him for he knew they were so unlike his. His veins were built with unsavoury deeds and his blood was words corrupted and diseased. He sat himself down to breathe the dust, he had never created anything and this dust was his, he had given it life.
The masses pushed forward their petrified leader who stumbled and shook through the destruction. He bowed down before the giant, burying his face into the dirt to show servitude and repentance. Without raising his face he asked the giant.
“May we ask your name, O great one?”
“I have no name, little man.” His voice was rumbling thunder, grating upon the ears.
“With the utmost respect, great one, why have you destroyed our holy cities Sodom and Gomorra?”
“Not holy, not good. I heard you build. I hear you all and the things you do are not holy.”
“We repent for any sins that we may commit, we kept our cities clean and helped those in need.”
“Your cities were built upon lies, just as I was. Its your evils that run through my veins.”
The man leader raised himself to his feet to look the giant in his overgrown eye.
“If you are made of us then you are one of us and you must be punished for your deeds. Our laws must be obeyed by all or none.”
“Your laws mean nothing to me. Your kind turned me away, do not name me as you name yourselves.”
The man leader knew that there was little he or his people could do to enforce their law; the giant was too strong and strange. He was aware of all the eyes upon his back and the hunger for retribution that pierced their irises. If he were to lose face now, they would starve his body and hang it up for the vultures. It came to him then that the giant could save him and his power, all that it required was a name. Once again he bowed before the giant.
“I hail thee Creator! Lord of my people and myself. Your wrath upon our cities was just and fair. We shall mend our ways O great Creator, in your name we shall live.” The city folk fell to their knees, offering their servitude to their embodied God.
The giant screamed in pain and before their eyes he grew. He blocked the sun, causing his side to glow and the folk interpreted it as ethereal light, groaning in awe at the inhuman sight.
He grew, they groaned and he screamed. It took no time at all for his head to penetrate the outer atmosphere, his hands reaching towards the morning star. He could no longer see the people with their lying faces and treacherous bodily fluids. He experienced the sun diminishing in size until it was the size of his pupil, blinking it away. He could not keep his feet upon the Earth without losing balance. He looked around at the galaxy, at the miniscule planets until they too disappeared. He stretched in the black space and waited for the prayers to reach him. Travelling slowly they would reach him, small and steady, they would reach him.
 

Reviews

[Wildecat]

This is an amazing story, I think that one day soon this Giant will come again, people are full of greed and hatred. This is well crafted and the imagery is spectactular. Well done.