Story ©2014 Rogue
Images © 2014 Beherit & Mr. Happy

View the original inspiration here!

None of the passengers on the Number 68 bus paid any attention to the lone figure standing at the roadside. The bus driver noticed, but only because there had been two hijackings already this year and all drivers had been warned very sternly not to stop mid-route. Three is the charm, they say, and the driver had no intention of having his bus and passengers join the list of the missing. He had no intention of stopping, or even slowing down, especially for a scrawny fox who probably didn't have exact fare anyway. "Sorry, Buddy," he said out loud, ignoring the fox's outstretched arm. "You'll have to catch the next one."

The next thing he said, even louder, was "Son of a bitch!" as a blinding white light burst across his windscreen. The tires began to shriek as though being dragged sideways across the pavement, mingling with the startled cries of the passengers as they shielded their eyes with their hands. "Hang on!" the driver shouted and stamped on the brake pedal. He gritted his teeth while behind him the passengers surged forward against the bulkhead. Lucky for them the bus was filled; they would cushion one another. He felt the bus shudder to a halt, the speedometer dropping to zero, but to his surprise the tires were still squealing, the whole bus quivering as rubber ground its way over pavement. The noise went on for at least five seconds before it faded to silence, and at the same time the blaring light vanished.

"Everyone OK?" he called over his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, blinking away the purple afterburn, and then he leaned over the wheel and almost bumped his nose against the windscreen. "What the holy fuck?" he whispered.

They were no longer on the road, but neither had they gone into the woods. A vast expanse of black pavement stretched ahead of him, and likewise to either side. It was as if somehow, incredibly, the bus had been transported to the middle of an airport tarmac. He tilted his head and peered upward, trying to see a plane or a control tower. The trees at the edge of the tarmac were enormous.

One of the passengers behind him let out a sudden shriek, throaty and filled with alarm. The others began babbling excitedly, all of them clambering to the right side of the bus. "What is it?" the driver said, but he had barely finished the words when he saw for himself what they were pointing at.

Paws. Big ones. Burnt orange, white toes, the paws of a fox. And they were huge. Not just huge -- immense. Muscular calves stretched up above them, disappearing from view just above the knee. The bus driver's mouth fell open and he fumbled for his radio handset. "Ten-thirty-three!" he yelped. "Ten-thirty-three, mayday, mayday, holy shit, sixty-eight eastbound!" He had no way of knowing that the sound that trickled across the airwaves was little more than the whine of a mosquito.

One of those paws shifted, rose into the air, and swept forward. Its shadow raced across the pavement toward the bus, the paw following that shadow and then dropping to meet it. There was a deafening impact, a thunderclap, as its heel struck the ground, followed by a second jolt when the broad toes slammed down.

Panicked, the driver dropped the handset and began to jab at switches, his mind too addled even to recognize which one he was after. The passengers were jabbering urgently at him to get the bus in gear even as the other paw lifted into the air and glided toward them, following its shadow until it came crashing down and jarred the bus so powerfully that many of the passengers had to make frantic grabs for the stanchions to keep from being thrown to the floor.

The first paw rose now, lifting out of sight. Its shadow rushed toward the bus, stopping just short of the side wall before the mammoth toes landed with an impact that threw the bus a good twelve inches into the air. When it landed the passengers stopped their screaming, instead simply gawking at something they could not even begin to comprehend. The paw that rested outside was as big as the bus itself, if not bigger.

The silence was broken by a terrified yell from the driver, who vaulted from his seat and clawed at the door, shoving it open bodily and tumbling out. It slid shut behind him and locked tight, responding to the anti-hijacking feature that the driver had in his haste unwittingly activated. The passengers watched him stagger away from the mighty paw. They heard him babbling insanely before he cried out in terror and cowered. A shadow darkened him. A pair of enormous fingers descended into view, pinched neatly around the driver's torso and hoisted him from the ground. His legs were still spinning and he was still babbling as he was lifted out of view. Some of the passengers pressed their muzzles to the glass but they could see nothing past the rim of the roof. They heard the babbling turn to a shriek, high-pitched and ringing with agony, before it ended in abrupt silence.

The shadow fell now over the entire bus. Yowling, the passengers scrambled away from the windows as more fingers appeared, four of them now, sliding down along the windows on the left while a broad thumb-pad pressed against those on the right. The walls bulged inward; the glass cracked in zany spiderweb patterns; the bus rolled to the left, sending the passengers tumbling to that side in a great kicking pile, and then they all felt the unmistakable stomach-lurch of a rapid ascent.

The bus leveled again, the walls creaking noisily and bulging further inward, and as the passengers began to disentangle themselves, much of the left side was darkened by a wall of fur that pressed firmly against the ruined glass. More fur, that same burnt orange, pressed against the right side. Thunder followed, each crash jolting the bus roughly and rattling the passengers to the bone. They could not see where they were going, only where they had been, the woods retreating past the shattered rear window as a spaded tail swept in and out and in and out of view.

* * *

"Hold on!" someone shouted as the bus pitched onto its side, landing with an impact that sent the passengers sprawling atop one another. Those who were able to extricated themselves from the tangle of limbs and clawed at the handle of the emergency exit. It gave way after several frantic shoves, allowing them to scramble free of the wreckage. There the first thing they noticed was the ground beneath them. It was not ground, but rather a vast expanse of what seemed like canvas, a great fallen circus tent that stretched the length of a football field before them. The second thing they noticed was that they were not alone. A short distance away lay a commuter rail car, upright, as bent and crumpled as was their bus. It, too, was disgorging its dazed passengers onto the odd terrain.

They all noticed the third thing at the same time when a young doe pointed and screamed, and then all of them were screaming, shock and disbelief briefly paralyzing every muscle except their vocal chords.

They saw him only from mid-thigh up, and even that much towered like a skyscraper. One or two of them might even have recognized the fox that they had glimpsed in passing in the seconds before this nightmare had begun. Now he peered down at them from a dizzying height, his eyes glimmering with unmistakable malice, his tongue hanging between his lower canines as he panted with excitement. He stood both naked and grotesquely aroused as he played his cold yellow eyes over the stunned passengers before him. His jaws parted and loosed a thundering roar. The sound crashed painfully into eardrums and rattled ribs, and while it echoed and rolled it seemed to take the form of speech, a single word:


With a huff and a grin he leaned down and stretched forth his hand.

Screams turned to a panicked yammering as the shadow fell across the passengers, and like a swarm of startled roaches they began to scramble every direction. They quickly found, to their horrified dismay, that the fabric beneath their feet gave little traction and yielded just enough to reduce their flight to an awkward stagger, leaving them helpless as the giant reached for them. It was the doe who had first cried out who now fell first beneath the descending fingers. They knocked her flat and covered her, smothering her voice for a brief moment before they gathered her up and hauled her, screeching, into the air.

The fox held her close to his face, turned her this way and that, studying her with an air of bemusement before he shifted his gaze to the tiny beings struggling to flee across what they were gradually coming to recognize as an enormous bed. He grinned to himself, and as he grinned he pressed the squirming female against his teeth and rubbed her body pensively across them. Slowly, casually, he parted his jaws and nudged the female's head between them, and then a few seconds later her shoulders, and then bit by bit the rest of her torso before closing his lips about her waist. Then, without warning, he let his body topple forward, his shadow instantly overtaking the fleeing captives below.

Those still within the bus were jolted violently as an erection that was nearly as long as the vehicle itself slammed down upon it. Its fleshy bulk covered the windows on the top side of the wreck, such that the only light came in now through the twisted exit doorway. They watched, horrified, through the jagged metal frame as the giant's hands came down in the distance, his underbelly stretching overhead, a high flat ceiling covered in fur. It was beneath that ceiling that the stumbling passengers now began to lurch and sprawl, thrown off their feet by the shock wave that rolled through the mattress beneath them.

With a resonating chuckle the fox positioned himself so that his captives could see from below what he had in his mouth. He took great care to show off the doe's legs frantically kicking from between his lips. He made sure that they were watching while he sucked those legs gradually inside until with a quiet slurp her hooves vanished from sight, and by the shrillness of their tiny voices he knew that they were still watching while he swallowed her whole, her body making a gruesomely wiggling bulge in his throat before disappearing for good.

Pushing himself upright again the giant made a show of licking his chops before he loosed a bone-rattling belch. One hand wandered lazily down to his mammoth erection and stroked it obscenely while he watched his prey resume their retreat. Squealing, stumbling, gibbering, they fought their way toward the sharp cliff-edge in the distance where the expanse of fabric abruptly ended. Their fear-crazed minds drove them seek to escape in any way they could, as those trapped by fire are driven to launch themselves into the open air and take their chances with the plunge, but even that slender hope was snatched away when the landscape beneath them heaved violently and threw them once more off their feet.

Crawling on all fours across the mattress, the fox overtook his captives with ease, and he leered down upon them as they scrambled helplessly in his shadow. He waggled his hips, jostling the bed and bouncing them playfully about, his monstrous penis swinging side to side above them in a vulgar taunt. Some of them now tried to retreat back in the direction they had come, realizing far too late their mistake when they found themselves trapped beneath the giant's descending rump. He was pushing himself up once more, settling back; they screeched a final chorus before he sat on them, and just like that they were silenced. The bed groaned as his immense weight cratered the mattress, sending the remaining captives tumbling helplessly down the newly-formed slope. One by one they rolled down, landing piled atop one another against a pair of testicles that each outweighed a mid-sized car. They kicked and flailed with all the strength that they could muster, but the giant merely rolled out his tongue and once again began to stroke himself.

One young wolf managed to kick his way free of the tangle of bodies and started to scrabble frantically at the sloping sheet. He might even have managed to reach the top had his movements not caught the attention of the giant above. The wolf was broad and athletic, the sort who in school would have made life miserable for a slender fox like this one, which could have been the reason he was singled out for particular attention. Just when he reached the rim of the crater he was jerked to a violent halt, pain exploding through his back and rump as his tail was seized between two big fingers. They first dragged him backward and then hoisted him, howling and thrashing, into the air.

The wolf landed with a thud in the giant's open palm, where he writhed and whined and threw his arms up defensively. Arm-length teeth hovered over him. Big yellow eyes played over his body and lingered unnervingly on his groin for several unnerving seconds, until the fox pursed his lips and spat a barrelful of saliva onto the wolf's face. While the wolf sputtered and swiped at his eyes the fox busied himself with ripping away his captive's clothing, peeling the wolf like a cooked shrimp until he was left naked and shivering. Once again that icy gaze settled on the wolf's groin; yelping, he tried to shield his manhood with his hands only to have them batted roughly aside by a flick of the fox's finger. His whining turned to a howl of indignation when the fox's nosepad shoved down on his chest and he felt a warm and massive tongue slather over his sheath and proudly-sized testicles, dragging the entirety between two great lips that began to suck lasciviously upon them. The wolf's fists beat a frantic rhythm on the sides of the fox's muzzle but the fox's attentions in return only intensified, his eyes fixed with cruel contempt on the wolf's sodden and horrified face.

The brutal molestation went on without respite until the wolf whined and groaned and bucked, and only then did the fox lower his hand from his muzzle, a thin pearlescent strand trailing briefly away from his lip to the wolf's midsection. The fox smirked and then glanced down at the remaining prisoners still trapped between his legs. Not as nimble as the wolf, they were struggling simply to get themselves away from the fox's immense scrotum; some, in their clumsy haste, had managed to become half-buried beneath it. The sight of them made the fox laugh. He took a moment to press two fingers down on his towering erection and made as though to smash a few of them beneath it, but he spared them, perhaps so that they would not miss what happened next. His grin turning savage, the fox pressed the whining and exhausted wolf against the underside of his penis, where he held him in place with one finger while with his other hand he tugged at his sheath, tenting it enough to let him slide the hapless wolf feet-first into its embrace. His flesh made an audible slap as he released it, leaving the wolf imprisoned with nothing but his head poking free and the remainder of his body creating a quivering outline beneath the furry bulk.

Satisfied that his victims would not escape any time soon, the fox reached behind himself and picked the battered bus up in one hand. The cries echoing from within told him that quite a few of the passengers had not made it out. With a gleeful snicker the fox upended the bus and peeled away the rear bulkhead with three fingers, and he perked his ears and began to pant excitedly when he saw just how many were left. Their screams were shrill, and became even moreso when the fox's huge eye moved away and was replaced by visciously gnashing teeth. The walls of the bus creaked and began to crumple slowly inward, leaving the passengers no choice but to retreat upward as the giant slowly crushed the bus's hull from the bottom up, squeezing it like a tube of toothpaste.

Most of the people trapped between the giant's legs had stopped moving now. Realizing that their struggles were serving only to gratify their giant tormentor they had chosen to play dead in the desperate hope that they could make themselves sufficiently uninteresting as to be ignored. But they could not block out the screech of collapsing metal, nor the awful screams echoing within, and they could not look away as the fox began to thrust his tongue over and over into the dwindling space inside the bus, every lick dragging out a writhing figure and flicking it into his maw. A final shriek. A ghastly crunch as the great jaws closed. More crumpling metal. Repeat.

He swallowed the last four passengers without chewing. Four licks, four screams, four gulps, then silence, and the ruined bus was tossed aside. The giant was panting deeply now, his jaws open and dripping with redness that stained the white fur of his chest. Pieces of his meal, even an intact hand frozen in a plaintive reach, were wedged between his teeth, but he took no notice. His fiery gaze settled on those who remained alive between his legs, and with a low and lustful growl he swept them up all at once, gathering them all together in one hand that he clapped roughly against his twitching erection. The wolf trapped within the monstrous sheath was the lone witness to their final agonies as the fox-titan began masturbating brutally, scrubbing his helpless captives over his length at dizzying speed. The wolf cringed as kicking feet rushed down, sped away, rushed down, sped away; rushed down again, this time battering at his muzzle before speeding away again. Their screams grew increasingly hoarse and strained as the giant's fist relentlessly tightened about them, until at last they were squeezed into silence. A few strokes more and their voices were replaced by an awful crackling sound, and the former passengers began to come apart. The wolf could only watch in hopeless chagrin as the jerking legs first went limp, and then began to tumble away. The sickening noise grew into a wholesale crunching and mashing of flesh, blood pouring down onto the wolf's face, followed by a veritable avalanche of heavy white cream. He watch it surged toward him and held his breath as it engulfed his head. He could feel the giant's powerful heartbeat crashing against his body, could hear the roar of breath even through the coating of fluid. The fox continued to pound himself through his climax, sending more and more liquid warmth coursing over the wolf's face. His lungs burned, but the tide did not stop. His final gasp filled his lungs with musk and salt. He choked, jerked his limbs in a brief and wild dance, and then fell limp.

Gasping raggedly, the fox slumped and dropped his chin to his chest. It took quite a few breaths before he had recovered enough strength even to open his eyes and survey the devastation. On the bed before him there was no movement. Between his legs lay a grim mess of semen and gore. In his hand nothing was left but a sodden tangle of pelts and clothing, their flesh thoroughly ground to juice by the fury of his pleasure. Shrugging, he wiped his hand clean in the fur of his belly and fished about in the debris for survivors, but found none. He pinched the wolf's head between his fingers and dragged the limp body out into the open air. He gave it a shake, frowning in disappointment when he saw no signs of life. No fun. Leaning backward, he reached for the still-intact rail car and lifted it to his face, but nothing stared back at him, no delicious screams of terror. With a sigh the fox set the car back onto the bed. At least the ones in his stomach were still wiggling.

He stopped, motionless. One ear quirked. He tilted his head. Both ears swiveled, and then eagerly he rolled to his belly and dropped his chin over the edge of the bed.

A-ha! Eight, nine -- no, a dozen of them had made it to the floor, with one still climbing awkwardly down the trailing sheet. With a sneer the fox seized that straggler when it was just inches from the floor, crushed it noisily in his fist, and tossed the gruesome remains into the path of the escapees. They stopped short, and a satisfying panic ensued.

Two of them, a pair of cheetahs, had the presence of mind and sufficient speed to dart beneath the bed and out of sight. There they cowered, clinging to one another, watching in horror while a pair of colossal paws crashed down from above and sent a shock wave racing through the floor. Booming laughter echoed, and then a thunderous roar whose echoes seemed to take the form of speech. The brief and sonorous words crashed painfully into eardrums and rattled ribs.

"Fucking bugs!"

One massive paw rose out of sight. A fear-crazed lioness spun around in mid-flight and fell to her back, writhing and shrieking and throwing her arms upward in the split-second before that same paw dropped into view and landed upon her. It hit with a dull thud and hesitated briefly before it settled to the floor with a gooey crunch. A male lion, perhaps even her mate, let out a feeble roar and began to beat with his fists on the heavy toes. The assault was met with a sonorous snicker from above, and the great foot lifted. Wide-eyed, the lion stumbled backward, casting about frantically and then suddenly pointing toward the cheetahs hiding under the bed. Perhaps in his desperation he felt that he might ingratiate himself to his tormentor, but it did not save him. The giant stepped on him anyway, squashing him flat, with his outstretched arm still pointing.

The others were rushing blindly about, some making for the shelter of the bed, others racing away. The fox made a leisurely game of trampling them, crushing each one slowly and carefully, his sonorous giggle echoing loudly with every gory finish. The cheetahs saw the slaughter unfold and did not dare to breathe, nor even to blink lest they attract the monster's attention. The giant flattened all but a few of them before he came up with a new game. His reddened toes pursued his victims and raked over them, knocking them down one by one, dragging them together and nudging them into a kicking pile. His heel then settled upon them, and with cruel patience began to bear down little by little. It took them a full minute to die, and the giant gleefully ground what was left of them into a smear with a twist of his ankle.

The last victim to remain in the open nearly made it under the bed, but just inches from safety the giant's broad tail-spade slapped down on him like a flyswatter, splattering him in the blink of an eye and leaving the room at last in silence. The cheetahs watched, petrified, as the huge paws paced slowly to and fro, and fingers dropped periodically into view to peel the flattened corpses from the floor. From the sounds that followed it seemed that he was eating them.

The paws stopped and stood in place for an agonizingly long time, and then abruptly the monster's face dropped into and grinned savagely. With a shriek the cheetahs wheeled and darted away. They kept pace with one another only briefly before one was suddenly surrounded by greedily groping fingers. He squealed and reached plaintively for his companion as he was dragged backward and then up out of sight. From the noises that followed, what was happening to him was unspeakable.

Alone and desperate, the final survivor cast about and finally spied a gap in the baseboard of the wall ahead of him. It was not large and there was no way to judge its depth, but from behind him the shadow of the mighty hand loomed once again, and in desperation the cheetah dove headlong into the cleft. He found himself in a void that was tall enough for him to stand. Darkness stretched away to the right, but to his left he caught a feeble glimmer of light. He hesitated, fearing what he might find, but when mammoth claws began to rake at the baseboard behind him he made up his mind and darted toward the faint hope of salvation.

The exit, if it could be called that, was a tiny hole that was ringed with sharp wooden slivers and gleaming nail-points, all arching away as though something had pushed violently through from within. Perhaps another survivor had made it this far? There was no time to ponder, though. The spear-tips raked at his fur and left deep scratches in his skin as he forced his way past; ignoring the pain, he wiggled out into a blaze of light.

He stood, and stared. His knees went weak and a strangled sob escaped his throat.

The room before him was enormous, but it was not the size that struck him. Towering in the distance was a wall made up of several long shelves. Upon each one, carefully placed in neat and orderly rows, sat the mangled wrecks of vehicles of every shape a size: a yacht, a battered airplane, a yellow school bus torn in half...

...and worse, opposite that wall were similar shelves, and upon these, just as neat and orderly, were rows of cages, each one containing a miniscule figure. Most stood or sat motionless, but some were waving, although their voices were lost in the immense distance.

Horrified, the cheetah turned back toward the hole through which he had entered, but found that the spikes and the spears were pointed toward him now, curved like the teeth of a serpent, preventing any retreat. Slowly he raised his eyes, noticing for the first time some gigantic letters scrawled upon the wall above the hole:














The floor shuddered with the thud of approaching footsteps.

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